“Anything Avengers.”
As soon as the word Avengers came out of my mouth, her nose crinkled high into her face. It was still one of her most adorable looks. I wondered if she still made the expression any time somebody mentioned bananas.
You didn’t mention bananas around Cassandra unless you wanted a full-on a rant about their squishiness and lack of taste. I was definitely going to mention bananas sometime on the trip.
“What? You don’t watchThe Avengers?” I poked her when she lowered her guard.
Cassandra’s facial expression gave me my answer. “I’m glad I missed those.”
“Don’t worry, I own the DVD collection. We can watch them when we get back to Pelican Bay.”
Her eyes widened at the exact second the plane’s wheels hit the tarmac. I’d never know if it was the landing or her concern over watching superhero movies that caused it. With Cass, it was probably a little of both.
She released her grip on her seat arm and tightened her seatbelt. “I think I’m going to be busy washing my hair those nights.”
I laughed again. Working with my brother Ridge was great, but he wasn’t known for his boisterous laughter. And while you might expect being friends with Katy would give you lots of opportunities to chuckle, more often than not I was yelling at her. Or concerned she’d get herself shot.
I hadn’t laughed this much in years.
“What about you?” I asked when it became apparent she wouldn’t tell me her favorite movie without prompting.
Cassandra stared into the corner for a second, deep in thought. “I haven’t had a ton of time to get to the theater lately, but anything with Frankie Borelli.”
I didn’t keep up on celebrity drama. Not the way Cassandra used to, but Frankie was well-known. “She’s that actress dating the cop. Right?”
Cassandra lit up, her fear over the plane ride disappearing as she lightly tapped me on the knee. “Yes! The tabloids said the cop’s ex-girlfriend tried to kill Frankie.”
I laughed even harder. It felt as if my smile caused cracks in my face, it lasted so long. You don’t notice how often you scowl until you stop. In my defense, it wasn’t like we were out joking with career criminals while trying to put them behind bars.
“I can see you’re still into celebrity gossip. Huh?” When we were younger, Cassandra and I drove into Clearwater every single week to get the latest editions of the gossip magazines. She’d buy one of everything and then spend the next week tearing through them, deciding which stories she thought were true and which ones were complete and utter bull crap.
I never found the pattern or rhythm to which stories she agreed with and which she found rubbish, but I enjoyed hearing even if I didn’t care about the actors in question.
She tipped her nose a little in the air. “I call it being knowledgeable.” It was the same answer she had given at eighteen years old.
If I’d been holding a newspaper or a magazine, I would’ve shuffled it. Just for the effect. “I think it’s more often called an invasion of privacy.” Who cared what happened in Hollywood? They were people just like us, only they made more money.
The biggest thing that separated us from them was the men who worked for Pelican Bay Security performed our own stunts. When we were running from an explosion, we had to run because you didn’t know what was going to blow out. And when bullets flew past your head, you said a silent prayer to make it out alive.
“Tomato—tomahto.”
The plane turned to the left, headed into the airport, and Cass went back to white-knuckling the arm of her chair.
It was a good thing she wasn’t in on the Pelican Bay phone tree or the Facebook group. Knowing Cassandra, if it was up to her, she’d print out a weekly magazine, which would rival the subscription rate of the town’s actual newspaper. There were more gossips in Pelican Bay than people, which was hard math to follow… Unless you lived in the town and then it made perfect sense.
Cassandra may have left the town as soon as she was able, but she’d still fit right in with everyone else.
I settled into my seat, getting comfortable as the plane taxied to our gate. At the exact second the seatbelt sign turned off, half the passengers stood and pushed their way into the aisle.
Cassandra and I had never taken a plane anywhere together. I didn’t ask how much experience she had flying, but she didn’t make a move to stand up, and the lack of action had my heart in a grip. She wasn’t an aisle jumper. They annoyed me. The little things meant so much.
It seemed as if everywhere I looked, I saw signs of how perfect we were together, but none of it explained why she left. And none of her reasons quelled my curiosity either. I wanted to stay mad at her and remember how she left me alone all those years ago without even a goodbye, but the more time she spent by my side, the harder maintaining my anger became.
The two of us stayed in our seats as we watched everyone else struggle to get their luggage. No one was moving, and by the time everyone had their suitcases from the overhead bins, they won the prize of standing around looking at each other.
Cassandra shook her head. “A bunch of weirdos. They’re running to get nowhere fast.”
I smiled a fraction, even though on the inside it was much wider. “Agreed.”
