Chapter 109
The last mattress commercial faded out, and I pulled the earphones from my ears.
I’d done it—I’d listened to all of Cereal.
I now understood all the references that Bryony had been making since I’d known her.
I felt a pang as I thought about all the time that we could have been sharing these jokes and talking about our favorite episodes…
but I couldn’t go back and change that. And at least now I knew what I’d been missing out on.
Someone jostled me as they passed, shaking me out of this reverie. I looked around and realized where I was. Almost to Pixar Pier, but not quite. I looked down at my watch, wondering if this had just timed out right.
And sure enough—a second later, I saw him. Freddie, walking fast, and carrying a bright orange bottle of soda.
I moved without thinking, just stepped into Freddie’s path. We crashed into each other, the bottle fell to the ground, and the contents exploded, splashing up and hitting my dress.
“Oh no!” Freddie gasped, staring in horror at the orange stain on the hem of my dress. “I’m so sorry—are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I assured him. I looked at Freddie, letting myself take it all in—the lock of hair over his forehead. His dimple. How much I’d missed him.
“But…” Freddie looked up at me, his brow furrowing. “Your dress…”
“I promise it’s okay.” I looked down at the orange puddle, the one that all the seniors around us were giving a wide berth to. “What about your soda?”
“No, I think it’s a lost cause,” Freddie said with a rueful laugh. “It was probably a kind of stupid idea anyway. I was getting it for my friend, as kind of a…peace offering, I guess.”
“Or maybe,” I suggested, “that friend is a mean jerk and he doesn’t deserve a peace offering. Or orange soda.”
Freddie just blinked at me. “What?”
“Nothing,” I said quickly, realizing I wasn’t supposed to know any of this, but finding it very hard to keep my mouth shut when Niall was involved. “Never mind.”
“Well, is there anything I can do?” Freddie asked, gesturing toward my dress. “I can pay for the dry cleaning?”
“Or.” I tipped my head toward San Fransokyo, where I knew Ghirardelli’s was. “Maybe you could get me an ice cream?”
Freddie nodded, his face relaxing into a smile. “Yeah. I could do that.”
He threw out the Irn-Bru bottle, and we walked up the pier, our feet falling into step together.
I wasn’t sure why I was doing this, exactly—I knew that it couldn’t lead to anything.
But the truth was, I’d missed him. And even though I hadn’t been able to stop the disaster that the Eton Mess performance became, the time when I’d been trying to had been some of the most fun I’d had—because of him.
Because of the us we’d been able to become for just a few hours, when he was the one person who understood what I was going through.
But none of it lasted, I reminded myself even as I snuck looks over at him. Which was why he was looking at me with a small, polite smile—the way that you look at a stranger. Which was, of course, all that I was to him.
“I’m Freddie,” he said, in that wonderful accent, giving me a nod.
I know, was on the tip of my tongue, but instead I just smiled at him. “I’m Cass. Cass Issac.”
“You’re here for Grad Nite?”
“I am. Um, are you?” I asked, hoping it didn’t seem too obvious that I knew the answer to this.
“No, I’m in the band that’s going to be performing later. Eton Mess?”
“Oh yeah, I saw some posters for that.”
“You’ll have to come see us,” he said as we reached the ice-cream parlor.
“It should be good….” For just a second, I saw a flicker of worry on his face, and I knew in that moment he was thinking about the manager who was coming tonight, and his nervousness about pulling it off.
Knowing all too well how this would turn out, I had to look away for a second as Freddie pulled the door to the ice-cream parlor open and we stepped inside.
Freddie got the rocky road, like I knew he would.
And having already sampled the mint chip, I chose the strawberry this time.
As we collected our ice cream, I glanced over at him.
I knew I could do what I’d done so many times now—explain about Excalibur!
Go through the mental list I’d made of all the things about him.
Convince him that this was happening. But as I took my first bite of ice cream—cold and sweet and good—I realized I didn’t want to.
I just wanted to be a girl at Grad Nite, one who’d had a meet-cute with a British musician and was having ice cream with him.
We stepped out of the parlor into the cool California night, and I felt myself shiver.
“You okay?” Freddie asked.
“Just cold,” I said, starting to reach for my jean jacket, then realizing I was hampered by my ice cream. I held my cup out him. “Would you mind…”
“Not at all,” he said quickly, taking it from me. “And you don’t have to worry about me eating any,” he added with a laugh.
“I wasn’t,” I assured him as I pulled my jean jacket on over my dress.
“I have this allergy,” he explained as I shouldered my bag and took the ice cream back from him. “I can’t do any raw fruit or vegetables.”
I raised an eyebrow at him, trying to look like I was hearing brand-new information. “And ice cream counts? The allergen doesn’t get…frozen?”
Freddie laughed, and I smiled just hearing the sound of it. “I don’t want to risk it. I have—an important performance tonight.”
I felt the smile falter on my face. “Right.” I took a bite of my ice cream so he wouldn’t read anything on my face. Because even though I wanted to warn him about what would happen at the performance—I knew it wouldn’t change anything. That there was nothing to be done.
We walked for a moment in silence, both of us just eating our ice cream. I looked over at him, then back down at my scoop. I wasn’t sure if this was…over now? I didn’t know where things went from here. For all the time we’d spent together, we’d never before been precisely here.
“How’s the strawberry?”
I gave him a smile as I took another bite. “It’s great.” I knew now he’d probably tell me about the Sweet Emporium, back home in Croydon. But, not even knowing I was going to, I took a breath and kept speaking. “The best ice cream, though—that’s at Sweet Lady Luck.”
“Oh yeah? And where’s that?”
“Las Vegas.”
“Vegas?” His eyebrows shot up.
“Have you ever been?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.
“Never. Always wanted to go, though. My brother, Jack, is desperate to go. He’s just trying to save enough money….” Freddie’s voice trailed off, and he shook his head. “How do you know about ice cream parlors in Vegas? Do you live there?”
“No, I live in Harbor Cove. Like, twenty minutes from here. More in traffic.” Freddie nodded and took a bite of rocky road, and I knew I could have left it there. But I found, to my surprise, that I didn’t want to. “But—I used to live there.”
“You did? That’s brilliant. I didn’t know anyone actually lived in Vegas. I’ll have to tell Jack.”
I smiled at that. “Yeah. I was there for…four months, I guess.” I made myself keep going, even though I was very aware that this was uncharted territory.
“My dads renovate houses, so we move a lot. And I used to think that I was fine with it. I really did. But…a friend of mine told me that maybe I’m actually more upset about it than I’ve let myself feel. I’m still processing it, I guess.”
Freddie nodded. He was listening to me, just like I knew he would. “That sounds like a smart friend.”
“He really is.” I smiled, feeling a little lighter just for having shared this.
“You have to say what’s on your mind, right? Otherwise, the words weigh too heavy on your heart.” Freddie blinked, an expression that I recognized coming over his face. “Sorry,” he said. “That just could be a good—”
“Lyric?” I finished for him. He glanced at me in surprise and I shrugged. “It just sounded like one to me. And you told me you’re a musician.”
“I’m trying to write the perfect song,” he said, digging in his messenger bag and coming out with his black Moleskine notebook.
“You are?” I asked, surprised—I hadn’t heard this before.
“I mean, I think all songwriters are, right?” Even though he bent his head to scribble the line, I could see he’d started to blush faintly.
“But I feel like it’s a daunting thing. And if you chase it, you’ll probably never find it.
I think it kind of just has to…appear? But maybe that’s just what I say to excuse the fact I haven’t gotten there yet. ”
“I’m sure you will.” I smiled at him, even as I felt a wave of guilt hit me. Freddie was so talented, but the fact was, it wouldn’t matter—his big break was just an hour away from getting undone by forces outside of his control.
Freddie’s phone beeped, and he pulled it out and looked at the time. “I should really get going. I have to get ready for the show.”
“Good luck,” I said, trying to look nothing but supportive and happy for him.
“Thank you. I…um…” He ran a hand through his curls. “Maybe I’ll see you again, Cass?”
I nodded and smiled at him. “I’m sure of it.”
Freddie gave me a grin, then headed in the direction of the theater, breaking into a half run as he got closer.
I took a bite of my ice cream, then started toward the entrance that would reset all of this.
But I wasn’t running or hurrying to get there—I was just enjoying the walk, and my strawberry scoop.
Talking to Freddie had been calming, somehow.
I knew it hadn’t fixed or solved anything, but maybe that was okay.
And by the time I’d made it to the wooden doors, I’d finished my ice cream.