Chapter 3
chapter
three
MAREN
“I just need to pop in and make sure things are running smoothly.” Addie jerks the doors open to the gymnasium, and her dress swishes from side to side as she marches inside, Caroline and I on her heel.
Addie rounds the welcome table and bends at the waist to talk to another teacher in hushed tones.
Meanwhile, Caroline and I drift to one corner and pause in the doorway leading to what is normally the basketball court, but it’s been transformed into a night under the stars for the dance. Twinkling lights blink low across the ceiling in a circus tent shape, rising to a point in the center.
Everyone is dressed up, with variations of black-and-gold corsages accessorizing their outfits. The school spirit sprinkled among the students makes me smile.
A game of some sort has broken out in one corner, where three guys burst into laughter. Two girls touch up each other’s hair, and a couple makes googly eyes at each other from across the table.
It was ten years ago when Addie, Caroline, and I danced in the center of this very gym. Our theme was a masquerade ball, and we wore matching masks so that we could easily find each other in the crowd.
Caroline was crowned homecoming queen.
Addie was the class president.
And I was… well, I was Nathan McAllister’s girlfriend—a title so many other girls envied.
Their eyes would double in size when he’d walk by. Their mouths would fall into an O, and on more than one occasion, I’d catch girls actually fanning themselves.
But he never seemed to notice.
Nate was always glued to me.
It was special—I was special.
Next to me, Caroline shifts, and I follow the direction of her finger toward the corner, where a spotlight illuminates the photo area. “We used to get a photo of our friend group at every homecoming. Do you remember?” Caroline beams, a sheen of nostalgia in her eyes.
A crescent moon as tall as the students rests to one side among matching, glittery stars against a sequined backdrop. In front of it, a group of friends pose with silly faces, while other couples wait their turn, chatting in the line along the folded-up bleachers.
“Mama insisted I give her copies.” I smile, and a wistful mist coats my eyes.
It always happens when I remember my mom.
“She nagged me about taking a ton of pictures at every dance, football game—anywhere I went. I thought she was being excessively sentimental, but at my senior graduation, she gifted me the cutest scrapbook of memories.”
Caroline clutches her chest with one hand and squeezes my arm with the other. “How beautiful,” she whispers.
“We should bust it out after the reunion tonight. I haven’t looked through it in a while, but I’m sure it’ll provide us with hours of laughs.”
“I have no doubt.” She giggles, but it’s followed by a dreamy sigh. “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to tonight, though. It will depend on how the reunion goes.”
“And by that, you mean, it’ll depend on how quickly Austin rushes you out of there to ravish you?” I exaggerate the dreamy sigh she just made and gush over her whirlwind romance with Sapphire Creek’s grumpiest mechanic.
I’m not surprised that Caroline Summers was the one to get under Austin’s previously impenetrable skin. Her bubbly personality could barrel through anyone’s defenses like a wrecking ball in high heels.
“We’re in a room full of teenagers—there will be no talk of ravishing,” Addie says, sidling up next to us again.
“It was either I use that word or just call it what it is and use fu—”
Addie clasps her hand over my mouth and levels me with a wide-eyed, warning glare.
I swat at her and free myself. “I was just going to say fun. Austin’s going to have fun with her, although I’m not convinced he knows how,” I tease.
Caroline blushes. “Oh, he knows how…”
“I guess you just bring it out in him.”
“It’s the special charm I possess.”
“You got that right, Miss Homecoming Queen.” Addie squeezes Caroline’s shoulders and gives them a jostle.
A stab of jealousy sends a ripple of… something through my chest.
I’m happy for Caroline and her budding relationship—or whatever she’s got going on—with Austin. They didn’t get off to the best start when she returned to town last weekend, but they figured it out.
They seem to have something real.
I wish I wasn’t envious, but I don’t have anyone. I haven’t in a long time, not since I was eighteen, and with our reunion tonight—standing on this campus again—I can’t stop thinking about Nate.
It’s more than thoughts, though. There’s a weird ache in my chest.
I’m absorbed into this bubble of nostalgia. Everywhere I’ve turned this week, I’ve come face-to-face with my past, which has always included Nate.
He is my past.
It was our freshman homecoming when Nate asked me to be his date to the dance.
His hands were hesitant when he fidgeted with the corsage on my wrist.
The only time his eyes left me were when we danced, and he rested his chin on top of my head. I laid my cheek against his chest, and I could hear the thud of his racing heart, like it was hard for him to breathe.
At the end of the night, his lips had trembled when he proclaimed his love for me. We’d been just friends for years before that, and once his true feelings were out there, I was immediately swept away like they were a magic carpet.
I hopped on and rode the wave of young love all the way to the fateful end.
That night, I didn’t question his feelings. I didn’t even ask when he’d started to feel them—what made him see me as more than a friend after so long?
What made him choose me, of all people?
I’d just leapt into his arms and planted my mouth on his as if I knew how to kiss a boy. I’d never experienced it before, but with Nate, it felt natural.
I didn’t have to question his feelings—or mine—because we felt too natural. Like we were always meant to be together.
Reminiscing of all our good memories, along with seeing him last night—I almost forget the string of heartbreaks that followed.
Almost.
“The students seem to be enjoying the playlist I put together. The photo corner is a hit. No one spiked the punch, and Justine laid off the apple cider vinegar for once,” Addie rambles.
I blink as said playlist filters back through me like someone had turned the volume down, and now they’ve turned it back up.
Caroline scrunches her nose. “Apple cider vinegar?”
“She drinks it every other day because she once read that it may help her lose weight. I can usually smell it from miles away.”
We shudder in sync.
“Ready for the reunion?” Addie checks her watch. “We’re already a little late.”
Caroline gives her a once-over. “And yet, I don’t spot any hives.”
“Ha-ha,” she deadpans. “I know how much of a tight-ass I am about my schedules and punctuality, but tonight is the last night of homecoming. It’s our reunion. The three of us are together again, and I’m not going to let a stupid little clock give me hives.”
“I’m so proud of you,” I manage around the growing lump in my throat.
I’m drowning in fucking memories, and I should really come up for air already.
“If tonight goes well, future high school alumni will hold their class reunions here too,” Addie tells us as she leads the way along the narrow path toward the Buchanan House.
“Uh-huh.” Behind her, Caroline nudges me, and I roll my eyes.
We’ve heard this from Addie a few times over the last week. Her face has turned blue ranting over the importance of our conduct this weekend.
Inside, my heels tap along the black-and-white checkered tile floor, and I wince against the pinch of my toes. Why did I let Caroline talk me into these shoes? I swear, the woman could convince a bear not to eat her.
The gorgeous historic mansion transports us to the eighteen hundreds. The foyer sprawls beyond the entrance and opens into an intimate courtyard out back. To our right is the sitting room, which currently hosts a number of old classmates as they admire the antiques and trinkets adorning the space.
A welcome table greets us, with a large frame of our graduation picture standing tall in the center like a monument.
Next to it are rows of what appear to be name tags.
I assume those are mostly for plus-ones.
Our class was hardly large enough to forget one another, no matter how much time has passed.
Behind the table is a spiral staircase, the iron railing designed with intricate roses.
It’s taped off for the night to ensure no one goes upstairs—we’re all under strict orders to be on our best and most careful behavior tonight.
That means no reverting to teenage mischief like making out in dark closets or breaking any of the aged items in Sapphire Creek’s most prized historical landmark.
A scuffle in the entryway is not recommended, but it’s exactly what I’m looking at.
We come to a stop in front of the wrestling pair, and I fold my arms over my chest. “I don’t think they’ve heard your speech about proper conduct in here.”
Addie scowls at the two grown men in rumpled tailored suits. Owen has Nate in a headlock, and Austin stands near the side, his wide gaze locked on Caroline.
Nate pries a flask from Owen and holds it high like a trophy. Both of the guys’ jackets hang halfway off their shoulders, but their sloppy appearance isn’t what catches my eye.
It’s the opening of Nate’s shirt that floods my mouth with drool.
Addie’s scolding tirade is muffled as my traitorous gaze travels over my ex.
The tip of the V rests in the valley between his lean pecs, revealing smooth, tan skin—plus the edge of a lion’s head inked across one side.
Why did I have to know that he has such a tattoo?
I shouldn’t have snooped on his social media.
If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have a million questions swirling in my head over what the significance of this lion could be. Why did he choose that?
And what other tattoos does he have? What do they mean?
He’d wanted a tattoo the night of our last homecoming dance. He’d convinced Wake and Owen to get one too, but they hadn’t gone through with it.
But just like he did with his career dreams, Nate eventually did go through with the tattoo as well. He’s done everything he always said he would—including getting married and having a family.
Without me.
He’s never needed me to succeed, and that fact slices through me with the acute precision and pain of a box cutter. It’s enough to snap me out of my confusing trance—and not a second too soon.
“You seriously brought your own booze?” Addie gapes at Owen and perches her hands on both hips. “I used twenty-five percent of the budget to stock the bar for everyone, and you had the audacity to bring your own. Wow. Why am I surprised? I should’ve expected nothing less.”
Owen points a thick, accusatory finger at Nate, his eyes falling to Addie’s cleavage as he says, “I did no such thing. That’s Nate’s.” Then he tears his gaze away, squints his hazy eyes, and exaggerates his outrage toward his old friend. “How could you?”
But Addie’s not buying any of his bullshit—she never does.
She purses her lips and tilts her head back, facing the ceiling. “What happened to the gentle violin soundtrack I left here to be played?”
“This is more fun than boring violin music,” Owen shoots back.
“Of course, it was your doing.” Addie makes her way toward the courtyard, and Owen trails behind her, his long strides easily keeping up with her short, purposeful ones.
All the while, he argues in favor of the “electric tunes.”
The remaining four of us stare after the pair, their debate echoing across the high ceiling and over Owen’s poor choice of techno music.
“I see those two are still great friends, huh?” Nate adjusts his jacket back into place and shifts the collar of his shirt. In doing so, his arm brushes mine, and that’s when I realize how close we’re standing.
I’m so close that I smell the unholy cologne he wears like a weapon. The spicy scent could alter my brain chemistry if I inhale too much.
I inch away, putting much-needed distance between us, as Caroline muses, “They are the best of friends, if friendship means constantly fighting and trying to rip each other apart.”
“Rip each other’s clothes off, anyway.” I snort.
“Those two would rather kill each other than sleep together,” Austin chimes in, completely oblivious to the very real attraction between our friends.
Addie and Owen might not want to admit it, but they fight because there are real feelings at play. No one would argue as much or as intensely as they do if they didn’t want more from each other.
“There’s a fine line between those two things—trust me,” I blurt.
My eyes involuntarily land on Nate at the exact moment his gaze locks onto mine, and the floor practically shudders beneath my godforsaken heels.
With the extravagant chandelier directly above his head, he appears like a divine being. The light fixture sparkles like a shower of glitter raining down over him and brightening his disposition more than usual.
The light also taunts me by bouncing off his dark eyes, like he’s amused. Why is he looking at me like that?
It doesn’t matter. I should be more worried about why the hell I even said it. Was I talking about Addie—or about myself?
Logically, it couldn’t be about me. This night is playing tricks on me, that’s all. There are too many reminders of all the good days I had with Nate.
But I laid those to rest long ago.
I’ve changed, and I need to act like it before all these rushing, clashing emotions make me do something I’ll regret.