Oh, my goodness. She was serious. I thought back to that night. “When he stole our clothes? That was, like, our second day here!”
“Yeah, I guess I’m just fast like that.” Her eyes filled with hurt.
“No, that’s not what I said, Cass. I just meant… that was a long time ago. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Reigning in my emotion, I sat back down across from her. Cassidy had never withheld anything from me. I knew every detail of how far she’d gone with all of her past boyfriends. We told each other everything.
“Because I knew you’d react like this.” She crossed her arms, then uncrossed them and checked to see if she’d messed up her nails. “And because you were busy. And sad. I didn’t want to upset you more.”
While I’d been wallowing in self-pity about the stupid FFG, my baby sister had lost her virginity and had nobody to talk to.
“I wish you would have told me,” I whispered.
“I’m sorry, Sissy.”
She hadn’t called me Sissy in years. Cassidy’s eyes scrunched up and she covered her face as all the emotion she’d kept hidden came to the surface.
“Oh, Cass.” I sat down and held her close, letting her lean on my shoulder. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I should have been there for you.”
I was pretty sure Cassidy had never kept anything secret for two weeks.
“This whole trip I’ve been so emotional,” she sniffed. “I cry almost every time I’m alone. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
I did. In a way, she was losing her big sister. We only had a couple more months together. There was also the fact that she couldn’t help me against the FFG. Things weren’t working out the way we’d hoped. And then there was Rock: a fun distraction to help her escape it all.
“This whole thing has been overwhelming for both of us,” I told her. “But no matter what, don’t ever feel like you can’t talk to me. No matter how crazy things are.”
She sat up, nodding.
“Here comes McKale,” she whispered, wiping her eyes.
I followed her gaze. He’d finished work a little earlier than normal. Cassidy stood.
“You don’t have to leave,” I told her.
“It’s okay. I’m gonna go shower.”
“All right. I’ll see you at dinner.”
She left me, giving McKale a little wave as they passed one another.
I wished I had a more cheerful greeting for him when he sat down.
“Are ye all right, then?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” I felt myself clamming up.
Things had been more comfortable between McKale and I the last few days, but with each hour that passed I wondered if he’d been visited again. Constant fear nagged the back of my conscience. I hated it. And now there was this strange sense of loss that settled over me for Cass.
Needing to keep my hands busy, I opened the red polish and began to paint my toes. I’d already removed the cracked old polish. I felt McKale watching me.
“Has she come to see you again?” I made myself ask.
My stomach knotted up, and I felt him stiffen next to me.
“Nay,” he answered.
I kept painting. “Will you tell me if she does?”
“Do ye wish me to?” His voice remained quiet and solemn.
“Yes.”
“Aye. Then I will.”
I gave a curt nod and tried to push the topic from my mind.
One foot was done. I dunked the brush back into the little jar and McKale stilled me, placing his hand on mine.
“Might I try?” he asked.
I let him take the bottle of nail polish from me. He dunked the brush several times. When he brought it to his nose he jerked his head back and coughed.
“Yeah, the fumes are really strong. I should have warned you not to sniff it.”
He blinked his hazel eyes rapidly. Once his head cleared and he’d finished examining the bottle, he moved himself into position in front of me. I forced back a smile and pushed my foot closer to him. Just as he was about to touch the brush to my big toe, he pulled away.
“What if I bung it up?”
“I have this magic stuff here called nail polish remover here to fix any mistakes.” I held up the plastic bottle.
McKale looked apprehensive, but decided to take my word for it. He got to work, his tongue peeking out from the corner of his mouth as he concentrated. It was one of the most adorable things I’d ever seen. He was accurate, with an eye for small detail. We both peered down and admired my foot when he was finished. He lifted the brush to put it back in the jar, and his eyes got big.
“Oi! Bollocks. It’s on me!” We both looked down at his ankle, where he’d accidentally touched the brush. He tried to wipe it, but it smeared and he rubbed it frantically. I laughed and grabbed the polish remover, soaking a cotton ball.
“This is really strong, too,” I warned him. “Try not to breathe it in.”
I ran the cool cotton ball over the inside of his ankle, swirling it around until the red polish was gone. He ran a finger over the spot, marveling as if it really were magic.
“McKale?” I said.
“Hm?”