FOUR
Cassie
Six Months Ago
This had been a terrible idea, and the moment the words had left my mouth, I’d regretted it.
This diner has been a second home to me for as long as I could remember, and not a lot of people knew that about me.
Lincoln parked the car, and I immediately got out, breathing in the cool night air around us. Being stuck in his car, surrounded by his scent, and listening to his incessant talking that had nothing to do with anything was overwhelming, and I couldn’t have done it for much longer.
There was a day that I would have loved to be stuck in this exact situation, but that was long past now.
Racing ahead of me, Lincoln opened the door to the diner, and we walked in, him following close behind me.
Marie smiled at me from behind the old-school bar top, pink stools lined the edge of it, set on a black-and-white checked floor. The walls were adorned in every picture and piece of memorabilia that could have been found from the ’20s all the way up until the ’70s, some of my parents’ favorite decades. People were scattered around the restaurant, and I could hear Bobby in the back singing along while he cooked, but it was quiet enough to get some work done, especially in the back where we would kind of be hidden.
I’d never brought anyone here, based on principle alone, I didn’t want anyone to know that this was my fallback.
Of course, I would have rather not had the fallback at all, because what if I never finished my novel and then I became a waitress in a diner for the rest of my life?
Which, of course, that line of thought made me always feel like shit because I could never bring myself to tell my mom the same thing.
Thankfully, that night, she wasn’t in. That may have been strategic on my part.
“Wow, this place is awesome. Kind of off the beaten path,” Lincoln said, nodding his head to the Elvis tune that was playing off the jukebox.
“Yeah, that’s what I love about it.” I nodded my head toward the back booths, and Marie waved me off. She knew exactly where I was going and would come and take Lincoln’s order. She already knew mine.
Mick and Vic knew my mom owned a diner but never asked where, and I never told them. It was twenty minutes outside of campus, just far enough away to be…well, far.
Considering Rose Hill Campus had everything we needed to survive, I didn’t think it was imperative that everyone knew my mom owned a diner or that we should ever eat here.
Lincoln was the first person since high school that I’d brought here. I tried not to think too hard about what that meant.
We found our booth and each took a side, our bags plopped beside each of us. Lincoln took a menu from where it rested in the holder at the table and read it. I pulled out some workbooks, a notebook, and my favorite pen.
“Hello, welcome to Retro Bites. What can I get you guys?” Marie’s calming presence had always been a haven for me, which was why I felt comfortable introducing her to Lincoln.
“Marie, this is Lincoln. Lincoln, this is Marie.” I made the introductions, and Lincoln surprised me by standing, holding out his hand, and smiling as he politely introduced himself. The gesture shocked me long enough that it took me a second to finish my sentence. “I’m tutoring him for a class.”
He nodded and smiled again, tucking back into the booth.
“Well, that’s fun.” Marie gave me a look, and I shook my head. She knew who Lincoln Ellis was. Was she putting two and two together? “What can I get you to drink, Lincoln?”
“Just water, please,” he said gratefully. “What do you recommend to eat here?”
She gave him a rundown of the menu, rattling off favorites that are common returning customer orders, and smiled when he ordered a double bacon cheeseburger and a salad.
Marie wandered off without taking my order, and Lincoln raised an eyebrow. “Are you not eating?”
I waved my hand. “Marie knows what I like. I haven’t had to order here in a while.”
Try years, but there’s no reason for him to know that.
“Huh, that’s cool. Must be decent enough if you come back that often.”
I nodded my head nonchalantly and encouraged him to open up his books. Now that we were here, that tension that had been stuck to his shoulders seemed to have worn off. I was glad to see that, because working with Lincoln was going to be challenging enough without having to deal with the drama he was doling out at the library.
Marie came back, setting down our drinks. Hot tea and water for me. I took a moment to doctor the tea the way I wanted, letting Lincoln explain what he was struggling with.
“Sounds like you understand the material, what’s the issue?”
He rubbed his eyebrow and leaned an elbow against the table. “The writing portion is killing me.”
I frowned. “Writing, huh?”
He shrugged his large shoulders. “I’m good at talking out loud in front of crowds. The public speaking portion that they have us do doesn’t bother me, but it’s getting the right things to say that’s been my issue. I can’t seem to sit down long enough to find the right words to put together.”
“What’s the topic?”
“What do you mean?”
Marie came back and delivered food to our table—an order of fries for me, my favorite and Lincoln’s meal, which is piled high with lettuce, tomato, and pickles—his eyes lit up like it’s Christmas.
“Wow, this looks awesome.” Lincoln thanked Marie, starting to put the hamburger together the way he wanted it.
“So, what kind of class are you studying for?” Marie asked, leaning a casual hip against the booth.
It’s at that moment, with her mama bear laser eyes, that I know that she knows who Lincoln is.
“Cass is helping me with my journalism class.”
“Ah, well, you couldn’t have picked a better tutor. Tell me.” She narrowed her gaze on Lincoln, and while I love to think he’s a clueless man, he’s not. He paused his movements and gave her his full attention. “Why are you bothering Cassie with this and not another English major?”
Lincoln swallowed and looked to me, regret swirling in his gaze. I absolutely hated that look on his stupid face. I didn’t want to see it.
“My coach was the one who set it up, actually,” Lincoln started, looking from Marie to me. I could feel a flush break out on my cheeks and wondered if it was already working its way under my hoodie. “But I was glad he did.”
“Why?”
Marie was quick with her retort, and as much as I appreciated her sticking up for me, I was kind of hoping a big black hole would suddenly open up and swallow me whole.
“Cassandra is one of the smartest people I’ve ever met,” Lincoln stated, plain and simple, his eyes latching on to mine.
Why did him using my full name make my stomach twist?
“I thought you two didn’t get along.”
“Okay, that’s enough, Marie. We’re just working on his homework,” I said, not wanting her to give away everything I’ve ever said to her.
“It’s fine,” Lincoln said, but I could tell he was getting irritated.
Marie looked at me, and I widened my eyes, signaling to her to leave so that I could actually survive this. She didn’t know all the details. Didn’t know that Lincoln’s sister was dating his coach, didn’t know that I was keeping that a secret for the both of them, thus making this whole interaction hard enough—I hated keeping secrets—but Lincoln would lose his mind if he found out anything I’ve said about him or his sister, so I implore her to drop it.
“Holler if you guys need anything,” she said, wandering off to help other patrons.
I breathed a deep sigh of relief as she walked away.
“She’s protective of you.” Lincoln’s voice was soft—softer than I’d like to hear it—and I waved my hand nonchalantly. I didn’t need Lincoln to ever feel sorry or worry about my feelings.
Not ever again.
“Don’t worry about it, so let’s get back to the topic at hand.”
But our study session was less than productive. Lincoln grew even more quiet, telling me that he was having a hard time developing a good argument on the topic that he was given by his professor, and I was wondering why he didn’t get to choose.
“I got to choose the topic I argued for in that class,” I stated, not thinking anything of it, and Lincoln shook his head.
“We don’t. The topic is made for us, and mine is the political climate.”
“That’s…a hefty subject for creative writing and journalism.” I sat there, more than a little confused by this subject.
“Well,” Lincoln started, his cheeks tingeing red, and I frowned at him.
“What?”
“I think I was…targeted.”
Immediately, my defense went up, and I couldn’t figure out for the life of me why. That same feeling, that one that lurked in my gut on that fateful night over a year ago lingered, and I braced myself for the information.
“I was…” Lincoln seemed hesitant, his boyish face now completely red, and I know that what he’s about to say is going to piss me off.
“Spit it out, Ellis,” I snapped, not wanting to draw this out any longer.
“I was intimate with the TA.”
I bit my tongue hard enough to taste blood, my face flushed, and I suddenly felt overheated in my hoodie. Of course he did.
Of fucking course.
I snorted, disgusted, and shook my head. “I shouldn’t be surprised, should I?”
Anger flashed in his eyes. “I don’t sleep with everyone.”
“No? Really?” I asked sarcastically.
“No,” he answered hotly, his own anger taking control. “I’m not some fucking man whore that sleeps with everything that moves, this just happened to be a coincidence.”
I rolled my eyes and started to put away my things. This was the most unproductive get-together. I couldn’t believe I thought we could do this, but we can’t, we just can’t.
“Where are you going?”
“Nowhere,” I answered, tucking my arms into a crossed position. “I just should have known this was the reason you were ‘flunking.’” I used air quotes and…well, pissed him off some more.
But I don’t care. I don’t care about his feelings, not when he uses girls’ feelings and gets sex out of it, not caring a bit about the consequences of his actions.
“Fuck this,” he gritted out, tucking away his work. His food is long gone, his plates stacked neatly on top of the other, and I would appreciate that he was trying to make less work for Marie, but I can’t. “I knew we couldn’t fucking work together; you can’t get your head out of the clouds enough to realize that this is the reality we live in, and it’s not so bad if you give people a chance.”
“What are you talking about?” I snapped defensively.
He stood and leaned over my side of the booth. “I remember your book obsession. You think that men in this world should live up to the fantasy of your fictional heroes. That’s not how it works.”
I snorted. “Please. I would never hold such a standard for the likes of you.”
His eyes flashed, and he grabbed his backpack, flinging it over his shoulder. I watched him take out his wallet and throw down enough cash for all our food plus a tip, and start to march out of the diner.
He stopped a few booths down and turned back to me. “Come on.”
I blinked. “What?”
Our anger was palpable, and I could feel people looking at me. I was thankful that Marie wasn’t around to see our interaction because I would have been sublimely embarrassed about this whole thing.
“I gave you a ride.”
“I can get home.” I would have to just wait for Marie to get done, or Bobby, and they would take me back to my place.
I saw his fist clench, and he marched back over to me. “I’m taking you home.”
“No,” I stated, thinking that getting in a car with him right then would be the worst kind of torture.
“Yes.”
I looked up at him in surprise and scoffed. “You don’t get to tell me what to do, Ellis.”
“Are you fucking serious?” He raised an eyebrow. “I offer to do something nice, and you hate me. I’m a dick, and you hate me. I beg for your help, and you hate me. What the fuck do I have to do to get you to not hate me?”
His fist is over his chest, the muscles in his arm flex with every word, and for a split second, I saw defeat written all over his face, and I felt…bad.
“Whatever,” he finally said, then started to walk out of the diner. I don’t know what persuades me to do it, but I grabbed my bag and took off after him.
My mind is saying don’t do it, don’t chase him, don’t give in.
My heart is saying…something else.
“Wait,” I called out, and right as Lincoln was pushing open the door, he paused and looked back at me.
I slowed as I got closer to him and sighed. “I could use that ride.”
Lincoln looked torn, but he clenched his jaw and then tilted his head, motioning for me to go first.
We got to his car, and another thump of my heart went out as he opened the car door for me. He wouldn’t look me in the eye, and his jaw was still clenched shut, but his actions were telling me something different.
The drive back is silent, neither of us wanting or knowing what to say, and I wasn’t about to be the first of us to talk.
He pulled up to my building and got out. I gave myself two seconds to breathe, and there he was, opening my door for me.
It was everything I’d always wanted to see guys doing. Getting doors for ladies and being chivalrous again. I knew it was an old-school way of thinking, but I couldn’t help it.
“I’m…sorry.” I stared at the entrance to my building. “I didn’t mean to insinuate—”
“It’s fine,” he cut me off, his eyes not meeting mine, and I couldn’t tell if he was regretting this entire tutoring thing or if his mind was far, far away. “I can’t study this weekend. We’re away.”
Meaning he’ll be on a bus or plane to play another state for two games this weekend. I hated that I knew that.
“Fine.”
“I’ll text you for the next time.”
“Fine,” I repeated and watched him stalk off to his car.
For whatever reason, I didn’t go inside until I couldn’t see his taillights anymore.