“Jase is gonna get so blitzed.” Eli scooted out of the booth. “I should go do the friend thing and drink with him while we don’t talk about his grandmother getting laid.”
“Oh sure, we let you in on girls’ night and you abandon us for your boys.” Claire pointed the stem of her cherry at him.
He shrugged. “What can I say? Bros before—”
“You’re gonna not want to finish that thought.” Velma shot him a you’re-never-invited-again look.
“I was going to say bros before beautiful women.” He grinned a wide smile and left for the bar—slipping onto the vacant barstool next to Jase.
“Do you think Babushka’s going to move in with this guy? Now that they’re…you know?” Velma asked.
Gah, Heather hoped not. Sure, Babushka helped her around the apartment. But more than that, it was kind of nice to have someone to come home to. Babushka was quirky—and that was an understatement. But it was nice to have someone care about her.
“A week ago, I’d have hoped she would. Now? Now, I like having her around.” Heather shook the fuzz from her brain. “Let’s talk about something else. Anything else.”
“Are you and Jase really getting together?” Candy asked. “I think that’d be great. I mean, you bring something out in him. I can’t quite put my finger on it.”
Anger? Sexual tension? Heather could start ticking off the myriad of emotions she seemed to bring out in Jase. And vice versa.
“I don’t know what we’re doing.” Heather said—the honesty of her words an everlasting frustration. She dropped her head to the table and left it there.
“Maybe we should talk about something else,” Velma suggested.
“I have news,” Candy replied. “I got into design school. Finally.” She did a squee jazz-hands number.
Heather jolted. Candy had been applying to fashion design school for years. It was her dream to design clothing professionally. But Heather had started to rely on her at the shop. This couldn’t mean… “You’re leaving the shop?”
“Eventually.” Candy bit at her lip. “Probably soon. I figure we’ll get a replacement and I’ll help train them.”
A replacement for the bakery, yes. Not a replacement for the fun they had together in the kitchen. Yeah, it was selfish, but Heather liked that she and Candy knew each other so well they could stand in the kitchen for hours and not say a word one day, and the next they’d jabber the whole time. That wasn’t the kind of thing she could expect from just any employee. That’s only the kind of thing she could expect from someone who had known her since she was three.
Heather tapped down her disappointment because Candy was clearly so excited.
“And I can stay on part-time through school, if you’ll let me,” Candy continued.
Of course Heather would. This was her sister’s dream, and it was amazing she got to live it. Even if it meant they were moving in different directions. She glanced to Jase. The world was turning, everyone doing new things…maybe she should, too?
* * *
They spentan hour dissecting Candy’s career plans, and then Velma had to head home to do the mom thing. The band finished their set and Jase had left his barstool for the jukebox. Heather followed him, nursing her second soda water of the night.
She stared at the electronic playlists Jase scrolled through. “What’re you looking for?”
“I’m in the mood for some Belinda Carlisle.” His words blended slightly together. Still, he managed to punch a few buttons, and the opening strains of “I Get Weak” blared over the speakers.
“You are intoxicated.” Heather pointed her drink at him.
“You are perceptive.” He smiled a slurred smile. “We should have that prom committee meeting now.”
“Or maybe I should take you home.” She set her empty glass on a nearby table and linked her arm through his, ready to lead him to a bottle of aspirin and a glass of water. She’d get him tucked in at home and go home to her vacant apartment.
“Let’s have some fun, instead.” He draped his arm over her shoulders and tucked her into his side.
“I think we’ve had enough fun for one day.” One week. One lifetime.
“Is this the part where you want me to deal with my shit, then?” he asked, his tone light.
She tried to push him toward a booth. She should get some food in him, too. “Jase, dealing with your shit when you’re drunk hardly counts.”
