It was true. He’d actually texted her twice. Once about fifteen minutes before arriving, then again with a count of the first bus, just as the passengers disembarked.
“Our contact is strictly business,” Lana told him. “Seasonal professional to seasonal professional.”
“You sure about that?”
This kind of bickering was, in truth, nothing new. What I did track was how, as it happened, Ben looked over his shoulder—today’s shirt was a cool red and said,SOTO HIGH JUDOtwo figures grappling beneath—and our eyes met. A silent exchange, during which all I could think of was kissing him, his hands in my hair. It was not the first time I had wondered if I should reconsider that passionate moment he’d offered by the bus pan.
But there was still something so attractive about keeping what was happening between us. As if Girl with an Extended Agreed Nighttime Meetup was yet another layer of myself I was discovering here, one I could only have achieved by passing through each of the others.
These considerations—and the snatches of remembering us, entangled—could easily have taken up all my time. But there were other things to think about.
Like my mom. With her recuperation going well and Nurse Geralin checking in, we were now staying on for Anne’s wedding. By this point there had been so many plan changes, it felt like I’d never go home. Which I didn’t exactly mind.
“Well, I think it’s absolutely the right choice,” Liz had said the day before, when this was decided. She and I were in the kitchen, pretending not to eavesdrop as my mom, in Juvie, had a call with her Timlee doctors and the ones from Bly General. “Cat is looking better and better, and here we can all help her out.”
She said this so confidently, as if my mom was going to suddenly shift course and let her, Kasey, or even me do anything but stand at arm’s length. Maybe she knew something I didn’t. But I had a feeling it was the other way around.
Now back at the Egg, the door sounded again. I turned, braced for more children, but it was Hector, the guy from Ben’s not-band. The fringed vest I’d come to associate with him was, thankfully, nowhere to be seen. Instead, he wore black pants and a button-down shirt with a stitched logo readingEDWARDS HEATING & AIR.His hair, which I’d only seen purposely tousled, was combed back neatly.
“Hey,” he said to me. “Is Ben Cross working?”
Lana, passing by with the coffeepot, whistled toward the kitchen. “Ben!” she called. “Visitor.”
“Okay,” Ben said, moving eggs around. “One sec.”
Hector slid onto a counter seat, then looked at me. “I’ve seen you at the Pavilion, right? You were watching us play.”
“Um, yeah,” I said. “A couple of times, actually.”
He smiled, looking delighted. “Awesome! Thanks for your support. It’s always great to meet a fan.”
I did not reply as I slid a menu over, then turned to fill a glass. As I placed it in front of him, Ben appeared beside me. “Dude. I’m working. What do you want?”
Hector grinned. “Is that any way to talk to the person who just got your band a gig?”
“Wait,” Lana said. “You guys are an actual band now?”
“No,” Ben told her.
“Need bacon,” Clark reported from the window.
“It’s at the Tides!” Hector added. His enthusiasm was palpable. “Can you believe it? I was dealing with a coolant issue in some guy’s office and turns out he manages the entertainment there.”
“But I told you I wasn’t interested in anything like that,” Ben told him. “Remember? When we had that discussion about the importance of listening to other people talk?”
“It’s the happy-hour slot! Guaranteed crowd,” Hector replied. So that was a no. “Once we wow them, word will get around fast.”
Lana stuck another ticket. “What do you know?” Clark said, peering at them. “Bacon.”
“And you already committed to this?” Ben asked.
“They had a last-minute cancellation for tonight! It was fate. The rock-and-roll gods smiling on us.”
Kasey came back, carrying another tray of dishes. “Where’s my bacon?” she asked, peering at the empty window.
“Ask the band,” Clark muttered.
“Dude, I gotta work,” Ben said, turning back to the kitchen.
