“Shh,” he whispers, so excited you’d think he was breaking into Thompson Farms all over again. “I can’t fuckin’ wait to do this.”
“But—”
“Don’t act like you don’t love the idea. My little performer, shining up on stage in front of everyone. I’m gonna tell the whole fucking town what you mean to me, show them exactly what you’re worth. None of them is ever gonna forget this.”
I chew my lip, ruining Cece’s gloss as my mind tosses between excitement and panic. “Are you sure…?”
Cece pats my knee, oblivious to what Jake’s just said. “Come on, Addy. You’re safe. Plus, that dress is so hot no one’s gonna remember anything about you except how stunning you are.”
We turn down a brightly lit street, and the Uber pulls over. The bar where we’re meeting Betty and her husband, is a hundred meters away from the Silverlight Estate Hotel. We’ve agreed to have one drink there, regroup, then walk down to the reunion together.
I grip Jake’s hand, trying to ground myself before we exit thesafety of the car. I’m scared for my friends, scared for the farm workers and scared for myself, but beneath it all, there’s Jake’s secret promise thrumming like electricity in my veins. Whatever might happen at the reunion, after tonight, nothing will ever be the same.
Betty’s waiting for us on the curb, looking every inch the former goth-babe in a black mesh dress and Doc Martens. I stare at the man holding her hand. I was expecting a young Sid Vicious, but the dude in the pressed blue shirt and cream slacks is the most average-looking guy to ever stand at five-feet-eight-inches.
“That’sBetty’s husband?” Davis says, voicing exactly what I’m thinking.
“He clearly adores her,” Cece chides. “And he seems really nice.”
“He sure does,” Davis mutters. “Head out, boss?”
“Let’s do it.” Cece leaves, and I’m about to follow suit, but Jake stops me.
“One second,” he says, a half-smile tugging his mouth. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to give you.”
I glance at the bulge in his suit pants. “I know.”
“Not that,” he says, grin widening. “At least not yet. Something else. I’m sorry, I meant to give it to you before now, but you look so gorgeous I forgot. And you should probably read it before the reunion.”
“Read it?”
He fishes in his jacket pocket and hands me a folded sheet of notebook paper.
I frown. “Do you need me to look over your rugby presentation speech thing?”
“Nah, babe, I’ve got that on lock. This is something else. An apology.”
“From who?”
“Colin. He messaged me back when we first started seeing each other. Asked if I’d tell you he was sorry about putting the gum in your hair, and all the rest of it.”
I swallow, my mouth dry as a bone. “What did you say?”
“I told him to tell youhimself. I think this is him doing it.”
I stare at the notepaper like it might slice my fingers off. When Colin agreed to help Jake break into the farm, I decided to mentally write off the gum-ponytail incident. After all, I’d already busted his lip during my lunchtime fight with Jenny, and I figured that was enough revenge on a guy who at least seemed to have pulled his head in since high school. Still, I’d have put ‘volcanic eruption,’ above ‘Kiwi male offers unmitigated apology for objectively cunt thing he did’ on the weekend’s prediction roster.
And yet…
My throat works as I unfold the notepaper. It’s covered in the bulky, disjointed handwriting of someone who’s barely put pen to page since school. The sight of those boyish scribbles makes me want to cry. Cry more.
Dear Ada,
I’m so sorry for putting gum in your hair. That was shit. I don’t wanna make excuses, but I was drinking all the time back then. Jenny told me to mess with you, and I was wasted, and I did it.
I thought you acted like you were better than us back then. That was stupid. You were probably just shy.
I didn’t know Jenny was filming when I put the gum in your hair, but I still did it, and I hated myself after.
