Hold Me Tight(16)

Every time I hear it, it stings a little to hear how Eric was so enraptured by Cassidy. I wonder if anyone would say he looks at me the way he used to look at her. I guess only Tim would know the answer to that.

“Time went by. I stayed busy training for swim meets and keeping my grades up, anything to keep my mind off Cassidy. I’d see Eric around, but we weren’t as close as we used to be. Then Cassidy began showing up at the pool to watch me practice. She told me they had a blowout fight. Eric had wanted them to start dating, but she said she wasn’t ready. Her parents were pretty strict and they were probably nervous about her hanging out so much alone with Eric, no doubt afraid he was going to get her pregnant. Kind of ironic, don’t you think?” Tim chuckles bitterly.

“Yeah, but if we were able to predict the future, we’d never get out of bed,” I respond, pondering Cassidy’s fate.

“But here’s the thing,” Tim says excitedly, sitting up. “They weren’t even sleeping together.”

“And Cassidy told you all this?” I ask, scooting closer to him.

“Yeah. She turned me into her confidante, coming to me for advice on how to handle Eric,” Tim responds, flooring me. “Talk about being put in a sticky situation.”

“I’d say,” I whisper, my mind abuzz.

“And that’s not all. I was just starting to hope that something might be happening between us when she came to me, begging me to start hanging out with her and Eric again so her parents would get off her case. Here I thought she was coming to the pool to check me out in my Speedo, but instead she just wanted me to help her sneak around with Eric behind her parents’ backs. Man, it gutted me,” he admits, his shoulders sagging.

“Well, you were a fool to go along with it,” I respond, smacking his arm.

“It’s just that they were so off and on. Eric would do something stupid and get her mad and then she’d turn to me for comfort until he apologized. Then the whole vicious cycle would start up again,” Tim says with a moan.

“I didn’t think things between Eric and Cassidy were so rocky. I thought they were the perfect couple.” I tilt my head to the side, pondering the ramifications of what Tim’s telling me.

“There was no denying the chemistry they had together, that spark. Anyone within a hundred-mile radius could feel it. But that didn’t mean it was always smooth sailing. They really had to work at it. And that’s what killed me because things could have been nice and easy between Cassidy and me. I wouldn’t have stressed her out. I wouldn’t have made her cry. God, I wanted her so much. I would have cherished every moment with her. I did cherish every moment with her.”

He lowers his head, and I give him a minute to collect himself. This can’t be easy for him, especially since he’s only delving into his past because I asked him to, not because he wanted to.

I’m alarmed when he stands up and strides across the room. No, he can’t stop now. We’re right in the middle of this.

I swing my legs underneath me as I follow him with my eyes. “Where are you going?”

“Hold on. I want to show you something,” he responds, stooping over the bookcase, running his finger down the spines. “Ah, here it is.”

He slides out a thin volume, showing me the cover like I should know what it is, like I had to have seen it before.

But I shrug, not getting the point he’s trying to make. “What is it?”

“You don’t know?” he asks, coming over to join me as I curl up on the couch. “Eric never showed you our yearbook? Really?”

He starts flipping through the pages like he didn’t mean anything by it, but I’m sick of him making assumptions about my relationship with Eric. Like we’re not super close because he never took me for an illustrated trip down memory lane.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but reminiscing over his days at Glendale High is not the kind of thing that Eric and I like to do in our spare time. If you catch my drift.” I let the full meaning sink in as Tim shifts uncomfortably next to me.

“So that’s how that happened, huh?” He reaches out to pat my baby bump, but I slap his hand away. “Hey!” he winces.

“You have a hell of lot of nerve.” I snatch the yearbook off his lap. He’s taking too many liberties with me, getting too familiar.

“Hey, give it back,” he whines, trying to pry it out of my hands.

“No way. I want to see you in your Speedo.” I open the cover, searching for an index.

“Ivy, c’mon. Cut it out.” He tries to grab it again, but I’m too quick for him, dodging his outstretched hands.