CHAPTER TWO ~ ABBY ~ SIXTEEN YEARS AGO
“Ican’t believe I letyou talk me into this,” I say as Drew and I approach the old K&P Railway Station.
“It’s going to be great,” she says as she scans the crowds on the sidewalk.“Brent is a sweetheart, and I’m sure his friend is too.It’s not like this is a set-up or anything.You guys are just...buffers.”
Someone knocks into me as they rush past, throwing an apology over their shoulder.It’s mid-September, and the streets of downtown Kingston are still as packed as they were in the summer.While the crowds through July and August were largely made up of tourists, the college and university students descended on the city a few weeks ago, which somehow changed the atmosphere.The sound of loud voices and laughter mingle with the Ontario Street traffic noise on one side and the shrill cries of seagulls on the other.
“Buffers,” I repeat.
“Yeah.Like I said, no pressure, no expectations.Brent said he made that clear to his friend too.”
Drew met Brent on our first day back at Queen’s.She told Fern and me about him that night as we ate Kraft Dinner at the kitchen table of our new student house, and has brought him up countless times in the two weeks since.She claimed she had an out-of-body experience when he finally asked her out, which led to her telling him she wasn’t interested in dating right now.Apparently, she had mentioned me a few times, so Brent suggested we do something casual as a group, and Drew agreed.
That’s how we’ve ended up downtown on a Saturday evening with what feels like half the population of Kingston.
Drew’s face breaks into a smile as she waves at someone up ahead.I let out a bewildered laugh when she steps in front of me, causing me to stop so abruptly I knock into her.
“What are you—”
“Best friend rules apply tonight, same as always,” she says, gripping my upper arms to steady me.“If you’re uncomfortable or miserable at any point, say the word, and we’re out of there.I’ll make our excuses, and we’ll go home and have a movie night, no questions asked.Got it?”
I swallow hard, bobbing my head when Drew looks at me expectantly.Growing up in foster care, Drew and I often felt trapped and as if everything was out of our control.When we moved to Kingston last year for university, we promised each other we’d do our best to never let the other feel that way again.“Got it.”
“Good.”She takes my hand and leads me toward the two guys waiting a few feet away.She greets the shorter of the pair with a hug, while his friend and I exchange awkward smiles.
“Brent, this is my best friend Abby,” Drew says.
Brent offers me his hand to shake.“Nice to meet you, Abby.”He’s ridiculously good-looking, with glossy black hair, high cheekbones, and dark brown eyes.“This is my friend Brodie.”
“Hiya, Abby, it’s nice to meet you,” Brodie says, surprising me with a Scottish accent.It sends a wash of nostalgia through me, reminding me of my grandmother and her accent that never faded, despite decades of living in Canada.Brodie’s handshake is firm, and his sweet smile puts me at ease.He’s tall and slim, with a gangliness I’ve noticed in a lot of guys our age.Between that and the smattering of freckles across his nose and cheekbones, there’s something adorably boyish about him.
He greets Drew next, and then the four of us set off down the street.The crowded sidewalks force us to pair off, with Brent and Drew walking ahead of us.They fall into a conversation immediately, their heads bent close.
I dart a glance in Brodie’s direction to find him already looking at me.The golden-hour light catches in his hair, highlighting strands of deep red among the brown.Man, he’s cute.
“Small talk is something I haven’t quite mastered yet,” he says with a rueful smile.
“It’s the worst, isn’t it?”I ask.“Why don’t I start?What part of Scotland are you from?”
His eyes brighten.“Can I start by saying I’m relieved you know I’m from Scotland?You wouldn’tbelievethe number of people who’ve asked me what Ireland is like.”
I laugh.“My grandma was Scottish, so I’m probably more familiar with the accent than a lot of people around here.”
“Ahh, makes sense,” he says.“I grew up on the Isle of Skye, but my family spent a lot of time in Edinburgh.What part of Scotland was your gran from?”
“She lived in Edinburgh for years before coming to Canada, but she was originally from Callander.”
“Lovely wee place,” he says.I suppress a grin at his use of ‘wee’.“Have you been to Scotland?”
“Not yet, but it’s at the top of my bucket list.”
Up ahead, Drew and Brent pause for us to catch up to them.Brent suggests we have dinner in a nearby pub that’s popular with university students.
