I checked the time and then hustled over to Cars Land. As I speed-walked, occasionally breaking into a short jog when I could do it without bumping into people, I reflected on how much better this was—not having to worry about running into anyone. Not hiding from my mistakes and the girl I’d been when I made them. But out in the open, head up, looking around, on my way to try and make things better.
I made it to the Cozy Cone, with its snack options, and was relieved to see that the one I needed wasn’t too crowded yet. I got in line? and started writing the Freddie list. At this point, I knew the list like the back of my hand. It was because I’d memorized him—because Iknewhim. It wasn’t just a series of facts. They were the facets that added up to him—to Freddie Sharma.
I was almost done writing out the lyrics when the person in front of me placed their order, and I stepped up to the window. “Hi,” I said, dropping the notebook back in my bag. “Could I have twelve churros, please?”
Iknew just where I’d be able to find Reagan, Zach, and McKenna—and I had timed it so that when they walked through the entrance to Cars Land, I would be waiting there, peace offering in hand. As I saw them coming, I took a deep breath and told myself that it would be okay.
I’d been through every other permutation of this, after all. I’d done the wrong thing, taken the easy way out, so many times now. And I knew that trying to do therightthing—not just feinting at it or doing the bare minimum and expecting that to make a difference—was the only thing that was going to make things better. Or at least be a start.
“And then I want to go on the swings,” I heard Reagan say as I stepped into their path.
“Hi, Reagan,” I said, giving them a wave. “Hey, Zach. Hey, McKenna.”
“Hello!” McKenna said cheerfully, waving back. Then she paused. “Wait, have we met?”
“Cass?” Reagan asked. They looked at Zach, whose eyes were wide. “Cass Issac?”
“It’s me,” I said, taking a small step closer. “I’m really happy to see you here. I just wanted to apologize.”
Reagan frowned and crossed their arms over their chest. “Apologize?”
“I should have never just left like that—and then not stayed in touch with you. It was a really awful thing to do. I know it hurt you, and I’m sorry.”
“Oh.” They blinked a few times, then looked at Zach, who seemed equally thrown by all ?this. McKenna, however, was watching with rapt attention, like it was a particularly interesting TV show she’d stumbled upon.
“Ooh, what did you do?” she asked eagerly.
Zach took a breath. “Well…” he started, but I jumped in.
“I was a bad friend,” I said, feeling the truth of my words deep in my gut as I spoke them. I saw Reagan’s face change, taking this in. “And you were a really good friend.” I shook my head. “I know there’s no undoing the way I behaved. But I wanted to let you know how sincerely sorry I am.”
“Well—okay,” Reagan said slowly. “I…Thanks for saying that, Cass.”
“And!” I held up the bag I’d gotten from the Cozy Cone. “I bought you all some churros. I’m really sorry I didn’t bring them to your birthday party. I hope this helps.”
Reagan gave me a small smile as they took the bag from me. “It does.”
“Can you have one with us?” Zach asked, as he eagerly opened the bag. Even from a few feet away, I could smell the heavenly churro aroma wafting out.
I checked the time, then shook my head. “I have to get going.”
“Take one for the road,” Reagan said, holding the bag out to me.
“Really?”
They nodded, and I reached in and grabbed one. It was still warm, and I took a bite of the sweet cinnamon goodness. “Thank you.”
Reagan gave me a nod. “Maybe I’ll see you around?”
I smiled. “I hope so.” They smiled back, and we had a nice moment?—until I remembered I had to get all the way over to the Ferris wheel. “Bye!” I called, as I hustled away.
“Who evenwasthat?” I heard McKenna ask before I got out of earshot.
I smiled as I started to run, eating my churro as I went. I couldn’t help thinking about the look on Reagan’s face when they’d forgiven me—and how good it felt. Like something heavy had just been lifted off my shoulders. Something that had been there so long, I’d just gotten used to it—and had forgotten that things could be any other way.
I walked up to the Ferris wheel and took a deep breath before I chose the line for the swinging cars. I didn’t want to go on this ride again—but I knew, deep in my bones, that I had to. There was a group of four ahead of me, all wearing purple sweatshirts from a school in La Jolla, and they were tall enough to block me from view.
Of all the stops on my apology tour tonight, this one was the trickiest to time—mostly because I ?could aim to be in the right place at the right time, but there were still a lot of moving parts, including literal moving parts. But if I could pull it off—and I was hoping that I could—I knew it would be the perfect way to try to make things up to Greta and Nora.
