“That’s…nice,” I said, feeling as though I’d missed something. “You took the train up?”
“Sure,” he said, still eyeing me. Was there some way he could tell that I’d just done the one thing he’d ever told me not to? It wasn’t that I cared what he thought about Hartley and me. But my life was evolving at warp speed, and I could have used a day to get used to the idea. I didn’t need any push-back from Damien.
Stacia picked that moment to walk by, passing us between the conveyor where trays are deposited and the door. “Hey, Callahan,” she said suddenly. I turned my head as a reflex, about a millisecond before realizing that she was speaking to my brother.
My hockey-playing brother. Of course she was.
“Hey, Stacia. Looking good, as always,” he winked. “Do you know my sister Corey?”
As her gaze slid from Damien to me, the temperature of it dropped from steamy to subzero immediately. “Oh,” she said, frowning. “We’ve met.” And then she stomped out of the room.
“Well, she’s still the same,” Damien chuckled. Then he glanced at Hartley. “Oh, shit. Weren’t you two…?”
Now even Hartley looked rattled. “Yeah…uh…not anymore.”
“Sorry, dude.” My brother went back to his cup of coffee. My nerves fried, I was just about to declare brunch finished when Bridger trotted up, pausing behind my brother and me.
“What’s up, Bridge?” Hartley asked before draining his juice.
Bridger smirked down at him. “I was going to ask you the same thing. Please tell me that somebody had to do the Crutch of Shame this morning. Or do I have to restock the bourbon?”
“Bridger,” I gasped.
“Come on, Callahan,” he said as he passed behind me, giving my ponytail a flip. “I’ve been saving up that joke all weekend.” He rounded our table toward the door, aiming a lopsided grin at Hartley. And then he did a hard double-take as he recognized my brother. “Whoa, Callahan,” he said, pulling up short. “I didn’t see you there.”
In the silence which followed, Damien looked from Bridger to me, and then slowly to Hartley. “What the fuck?”
Interesting choice of words.
My new boyfriend rubbed his jaw with his hand. If there was a suitable thing to say into the silence that followed, neither Hartley nor I could figure out what it was.
Bridger was still standing frozen over Dana and Daniel, practically in the doorway. “I just, uh…” he said. “Sorry.”
Hartley dismissed him with a wave, and then turned back to face my brother’s glare.
“My little sister?” Damien bit out. “Out of five thousand undergrads, she’s your latest conquest?”
I could see Hartley trying to decide if defending himself was the right strategy or not. “Conquest?” he said, frowning. “It’s not like that.”
Damien shook his head. “You don’t have to sit here and be an asshole about it now. Can’t you just get lost now?”
“Actually, Callahan,” Hartley said quietly, “that would be the asshole thing to do.”
Damien turned to me, his face red. “I don’t know why I even made the trip up here.”
“I don’t know why either,” I snapped.
My brother’s face actually slackened with surprise. “You don’t, do you?”
“No, Damien. So why don’t you just tell me?”
“Wow.” He gave a dark chuckle. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell Mom and Dad why you forgot what day it was.”
“What day is it?” Dana asked. At least I wasn’t the only one who was confused.
“It’s January fifteenth. I came here to make sure Corey was doing okay.”
“Oh,” I said, stupidly.
Oh.
My stomach swerved, and memories of last January fifteenth rushed toward me, unbidden. I didn’t want to remember. But suddenly it seemed that I had no choice. Lowering my eyes to the table, I was transported back one year.
Last January fifteenth was a Saturday.
I slept through breakfast, and then made myself an egg and bacon sandwich for lunch. My mother had been out jogging, even though it was only ten degrees outside. And by the time she came home, I was tearing the house apart, looking for my hockey shorts. “I washed them,” she’d said. “Look on the drying rack.”
I ran past her. I ran. On two legs. I was full of irritation, worried that I’d be late for my game. I’d had no idea that things were about to change so dramatically — that running into the laundry room was something I’d never do again.
“Um, Corey?”
My head snapped up. Dana had been trying to get my attention, but I’d been lost — staring with unseeing eyes at my plate. “Yeah?”
She frowned at me. “What’s January fifteenth?”
“It’s…” I swallowed. She and Daniel were looking at me with confusion in their eyes. Hartley and my brother only looked sad. “Today…” Now I understood why I’d had two text messages from my parents already — messages I hadn’t returned. Call us, they’d written. We’re thinking about you.