She looks at me, nodding only slightly, as though she sees my point but won’t fully concede.
“So we pretty much have no choice but to continue, to just get out there and hope for the best. And who knows, we might even learn a thing or two along the way.” I look at her, knowing I haven’t completely sold it, so I add, “I guess what I’m trying to say is, you can’t run away just because something won’t last. You have to hang in there, let it play out. It’s the only way you’ll ever advance.” I shrug, wishing I could be a little more eloquent, but there it is. “Think about it, if you didn’t rescue your cat, if you didn’t say yes when Josh asked you out—well, there’s a lot of wonderful moments you would’ve missed.”
She looks at me, still wanting to argue, but not saying a word.
“Josh is a really sweet guy, and he’s crazy about you. I don’t think you should throw him overboard so soon. Besides,” I say, knowing she hears me but is not truly listening, “you shouldn’t make those kinds of decisions when you’re feeling so stressed.”
“How about moving, then? Is that a good enough reason?”
“Josh is moving?” I squint. I hadn’t seen that coming.
She shakes her head, scratching Charm on the spot between her ears when she says, “Not Josh. Me. My dad keeps talking about selling the house, but damn if he’ll discuss it with Austin or me.”
I look at her, tempted to peer inside her head and see for myself, but sticking to my earlier vow to allow my friends their privacy.
“All I know for sure is that the phrase resale value comes up all the time.” She shakes her head, looking at me when she says, “But you know what this really means, if any of this is actually true? It means I won’t be going to Bay View next year. I won’t get to graduate with my class. I won’t be going to any Orange County high school for that matter.”
“I won’t let this happen,” I say, gaze locked on hers. “There’s no way you’re leaving. You have to graduate with us—”
“Well, that’s very nice and all.” She shrugs. “But I’m not sure you can stop it. It’s a little out of your league, don’t you think?”
I glance between her and her cat, knowing it’s not at all out of my league. Finding an antidote for Damen? Maybe. Helping my best friend stay in her zip code and save her cat? Not so much. There’s plenty I can do. Plenty. But still I just look at her and say, “We’ll work something out. Just trust me, okay? Maybe you can move in here with me and Sabine?” Nodding as though I mean it, even though Sabine would never have it. But still needing to put something out there, provide some kind of comfort since it’s not like I can voice what I’m hoping to do.
“You’d do that?” she squints. “Really?”
“Of course.” I shrug. “Whatever it takes.”
She swallows hard and gazes around, shaking her head when she says, “You know I’d never take you up on it, but still, it’s nice to know that even with all our rough spots you’re still my best friend.”
I squint, having always assumed it was Miles not me.
“Well, you and Miles.” She laughs. “I mean, I can have two best friends—an heir and a spare, as they say?” She wipes her nose again, shaking her head when she adds, “I bet I look like crap, right? Go ahead, tell me, I can take it.”
“You don’t look like crap,” I say, wondering why she’s suddenly focused on her looks. “You look sad. There’s a difference. Besides, does it matter?”
“It does if you’re considering whether or not you should hire me.” She shrugs. “I’ve got a job interview, but there’s no way I can go looking like this. And it’s not like I can bring Charm.”
I gaze at her cat, watching the life-force energy slowly slipping away, knowing I have to move fast, before it’s too late. “I’ll keep her. It’s not like I’m going anywhere anyway.”
She looks at me, wavering on whether or not she should leave her poor dying cat in my care. But I just nod, coming around to her side of the counter and lifting Charm out of her arms as I add, “Seriously. Just go do what you need to do, and I’ll babysit.” I smile, urging her to agree.
She hesitates, glancing between me and Charm, then rummages through her oversized bag for a small, handheld mirror, before wetting her finger and clearing the mascara tracks from her cheeks.
“I shouldn’t be long.” She grabs a black pencil and draws a thick, smudgy line around each eye. “Maybe an hour? Two at the most?” She looks at me, trading the pencil for blush. “All you have to do is hold her and give her some water if she wants. But she probably won’t. She doesn’t want much of anything now.” She coats her lips with a swipe of gloss and rearranges her bangs, before slinging her bag over her shoulder and heading for the door. Climbing into her car as she turns to me and says, “Thanks. I need this job more than you think. Need to start saving some money so I can emancipate myself like Damen. I’m tired of this crap.”
I look at her, unsure what to say. Damen’s situation’s unique. Not at all what it seems.
“And yeah, I know, I probably won’t be able to support myself in quite the same style as Damen, but still, I’d rather live in some crappy studio somewhere than be subject to my parents’ impulsive decisions and whims. Anyway, you sure you’re okay with this?”
I nod, hugging Charm tighter, mentally urging her to hold on, just a little bit longer, until I can help.
Haven slides her key into the ignition, the engine turning as she says, “I promised Roman I wouldn’t be late. And if I hurry, I might be on time.” Checking her appearance in the rearview mirror as she shifts in reverse.
“Roman?” I freeze, my expression one of pure panic but unable to change it.
She shrugs, backing out of my drive as she calls, “He’s the one who scored me the interview.” Waving as she disappears down the street, leaving me with a dying cat in my arms, and no words to warn her.
eighteen