Chapter 26
Cienna
“Iced coffee or water?” I called out from where my head was ducked in the fridge.
“That’s seriously all you have to drink?
” Darcy huffed from the living room. I grabbed the iced coffee.
More for me, beverage snob. Before I closed the door, my eyes landed on the takeout container from dinner on Tuesday.
It was Saturday. I should probably toss it in the trash.
But, as gross as it was for fridge hygiene, it was my only reminder of what happened outside of the restaurant that night.
How he took charge and pulled my to-go bag from my hands, letting me explore and remember the curly strands of his hair, his strong jaw, his firm chest. After my departure from the restaurant, the doggy bag was the only thing I had to cling to. And his words. This time, you were my reality.
That statement echoed the words racing through my mind. It would have been so easy to kiss him, bury myself in his scent, whisper for him to take me home and carry on together as if there wasn’t a long pause and a life-altering summer between us. But that wasn’t an option.
Letting out a big sigh, I held my cup to the ice dispenser, the cubes clinking against the glass. “I heard that,” Darcy hollered. “How do you think I feel? My best friend invited me over for brunch and can’t even offer me a proper beverage.”
“I’m an adult, Darcy. I have coffee and water, not a full fountain-soda bar. Coffee, water, well… and wine.”
“Why didn’t you say that in the first place?” So dramatic, this one. First thing this morning, I received a text, all in caps.
Darcy: GUY TROUBLE. BESTIE brEAKFAST. COMING OVER.
For the person inviting me to be an impromptu host, she sure was high maintenance. She knew I took my breakfast in the form of bean water.
Balancing on my tiptoes, I reached my merlot from the top shelf, and then I dug around for the corkscrew in my messy utensil drawer.
The bottle opened with a pop, and Darcy cheered from the other room.
An evil grin crossed my lips as I poured her wine into the mug I set next to mine.
Mine read “No Talkie Before Coffee.” I made sure she got the one that said “Coffee Makes Me Poop” with a poop emoji giving a thumbs-up.
As I passed Darcy her mug, noting her frown until she realized I did, in fact, fill it with wine, I prompted her, “Okay, guy trouble, go.”
“Oh no.” She wiggled her finger at me. “You first.”
Should have seen this coming. I held my mug to my lips, ready to sip, not talk. “I have no guy troubles.”
“Uh, denial much?” Darcy scrunched her nose.
“Seriously, Darce, it’s a nonissue. Let’s talk about your love life. Mine is perpetually nonexistent. Status quo, right here.” I pointed to myself.
“Ci. En. Na.” She clapped each syllable. “What do you call a hot make-out sesh in front of a restaurant? If that’s not love life-ish enough for you…”
My head flopped back. If a five-day-old doggy bag in my fridge wasn’t a reliable reminder, my best friend would always come through.
“Dar. Seee.” Copying her, I clapped both syllables and exaggerated the last. “It can’t be considered a love life if I cannot include ‘said love’ in my life.” Saying that out loud, after the whirl of emotions I’d been feeling for the last few days, nearly made tears spring to my eyes.
I convinced myself that making the right call could still feel hard, and that it would get easier.
We’d see each other at the school and nod and wave easily.
We’d work together on the dance and would get our fill of each other as friends.
The churning in my stomach when I thought about how I walked away from him would eventually end too.
“Now, enough about this.” I held my hand up to Darcy.
She huffed and slumped her shoulders but admitted defeat. “So the guy I told you about from the karaoke bar?”
“Ooh, the one who wears the cowboy hat with Converse?”
“Mm-hmm.” She grabbed a throw pillow and hugged it in her lap. I did the same, bracing myself for a good story. “Okay, well, apparently—”
My phone sounded from the spot I left it charging on the kitchen counter. I tossed my pillow to the side with a groan. No one called me anymore; that was what texting was for.
Reed Marsh flashed on my screen. Without a thought, I accepted the call and answered, “Hey.” For some reason, my hands shook as I held the phone to my ear. I walked toward the living room, knowing nosy-ass Darcy would eavesdrop either way. Especially if she knew who was on the other end.
“Cici, I’m so sorry to bother you.” His voice sounded frantic, and I could hear crying in the background. I immediately began scanning the area for my keys, my purse, first-aid kit…
“Okay, slow down, I’m listening.” This perked Darcy’s attention, and she looked up from her phone.
“It’s Abi. She’s crying, and I can’t…” As if on cue, Abi’s pained cry rang in the background, even louder than before. I grabbed my keys, tossed my phone charger in my purse, and swung it over my shoulder. Darcy’s eyes went wide as she scanned each movement.
“She can’t find her lovey, you know, the little fox.”
I was three steps away from rushing out the door, and I froze. “Oh, yes, Cheeto. I know her well,” I said, trying not to sound winded from the crisis alert I just put myself through. At the mention of snack food, Darcy’s face smooshed in confusion, and now she was a captivated listener.
“Well, I really didn’t want to bug you.” He sounded so nervous, nearly stuttering over his words.
“Reed, you’re not bugging me,” I interrupted. At the mention of his name, Darcy sat straight up and pretended to make out with the air in front of her. I glared at her, giving her a pointed look as I continued. “How can I help?”
“I think she maybe left Cheeto at school.”
Oh. That was why he chose to call me, the only person who could help. I shouldn’t have been disappointed that was the only reason he sought me out, but I was.
“Do you want me to meet you at the school?”
A rustle sounded as Reed turned away from the phone and spoke to Abigail, and I listened as she quieted. But then she picked up, even louder than before. She was speaking between sobs, but I couldn’t make out what she was saying.
Reed’s voice returned to my ear. “Is there any way you can check if it’s there for us?” His tone turned softer and secretive. “I can’t even get her to move from this room. I don’t think I can get her out of the house.”
My empathy kicked in hard. For such a simple crisis, it was something so, so big in Abigail’s world. “Sure, I’ll go look and text you.”
Reed’s relief came through with a sigh. “Thank you, Cienna. You have no idea how much—”
I cut him off. The fewer words, the better. “It’s not a problem. I’ll text you in a few.”
Before I could even toss my phone in my purse, Darcy was standing from the couch, arms flapping, nearly exploding. “Perpetually nonexistent, my ass!” She threw her arms up in victory.
“Do you want me to meet you at the school, bow chicka wow wow.” Darcy waggled her brows, imitating my voice and adding an obscene gesture to the end of her song. I set my hands on my hips, watching my best friend twerk in my living room. She went from middle school to frat house so quickly.
“I need to go find Cheeto the Fox.”
Her face was rightfully puzzled at my explanation.
“Abigail has a stuffed fox named Cheeto, and she might have left it at the school.” At my explanation, Darcy’s enthusiasm dwindled. “She was crying in the background,” I added.
“Well then, I take back my bow chicka wow wow, because that’s creepy.”
“I told him I’d go look in my classroom.” I double-checked my purse that I had my classroom keys. “Are you going to be okay if I postpone our breakfast?” I barely finished my sentence before she grabbed my TV remote and shooed me away.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m just going to sit here and binge on your Netflix account.”
With a thumbs-up in her direction, I headed for the door. As I closed it behind me, I heard the chanting of “Rienna, Rienna” from inside. Shaking my head, I left her to her silliness but had to admit, as far as couple’s names went, Rienna was pretty cute.
When I reached my classroom, Abigail’s cubby was empty, other than her treasured unicorn pencil box.
The next likely spot was… Sure enough! There in the classroom library sat Cheeto. She was placed in a seated position, a book propped on her legs, as if she were reading a book from her lap. I smiled, imagining Abigail sitting and enjoying books with her dear fox friend.
I picked up Cheeto and went to put the book away, but then I noticed the title: The Invisible String. Sorrow squeezed my throat. This book. A beautiful story about how we were always connected to our loved ones by an invisible string. I sent Reed a text.
Cici: Fox found!
Reed: Thank god. She’s still lying here, and it’s killing me to see her like this.
Cici: Do you want me to just drive it over to you?
Reed: You are a fucking blessing. That would help so much.
Cici: On my way!
Friends texts. Totally. Look at us! We could do the friend thing.
I hooked the fox under my arm and grabbed my purse. As I started to lock the door, an idea came to me. I pulled The Invisible String from our class library, placed it in my purse, and then was out the door.
A soft knock sounded as I rapped on the front door of Reed’s house with Cheeto in hand, then wondered if he would even hear me.
I was about to knock a second time, louder, when the door swung open, and Reed stood before me in all his disheveled glory.
Before he could speak, I shoved the fox forward.
He looked at it but didn’t grab it. “Do you want to come in?”
Fuuuuuuuuck. With him looking helpless but sexy, scruffy but studly, how could I say no? He needed help. He needed company. He needed someone else to endure this with him. I said we’d be friends. Friends could do this, so I nodded and stepped through the doorway.