“A little of both, I guess,” Caitlin admitted. She felt her cheeks redden. “Thanks for coming to this. It means a lot to me.”
“No problem. Actually, I brought you something.” Jeremy rummaged in his pockets and extracted a long, thin object. Caitlin studied it for a moment, then realized it was a pen. Not just any pen, either—a Dungeons & Dragons pen.
She looked up. “Was this the pen I lent you?”
Jeremy nodded. “The one that was Taylor’s. I thought you should have it back.”
Caitlin smiled, her eyes welling up for a second before she blinked the tears away. “Thanks.”
“I should add that it’s brought me good luck through the years,” Jeremy said. “I used it on my driver’s test. I used it on finals last semester. I had it in my pocket when I had my nationals debate with the Model UN. I feel sort of . . . safe with it. Although maybe that has something to do with the fact that it used to belong to you.”
He was looking at her so sweetly, so earnestly, like she was the most important thing in his entire life. Caitlin felt her throat close, but her heart open. All of a sudden, what she needed to do seemed abundantly clear. Yes, it would be messy, but it was what she wanted. And if she’d learned anything from Taylor—or the fact that the police were breathing down her neck—it was that life was short.
She peered around to make sure no one was watching. Then she leaned forward and kissed him.
For a moment, Jeremy was stiff, his eyes wide open. But when he kissed her back, his lips were soft and warm. Caitlin inhaled the grassy scent of his clothes. She ran her hands through his hair, which was so much longer than Josh’s sporty-boy buzz cut. Tingles ran up and down her body.
When they pulled away, they both grinned. “I’m sorry,” Jeremy blurted.
Caitlin gave him a crazy look. “For what? I was the one who kissed you.”
“Oh.” Jeremy lowered his eyes. There were two blooms of red on his cheeks. “Well, yeah. I guess you did.”
The whistle blew on the field, and they looked at each other again. In a few minutes, Caitlin’s game would be starting. But something else suddenly dawned on her, too. She felt . . . lighter, somehow. Freer. Jeremy’s kiss had opened up a whole new world, and she no longer felt bogged down. If she played well, great. But if she didn’t . . . maybe it would still be okay. After all, she’d already won something today, no matter the game’s final score.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
THURSDAY AFTER SCHOOL, PARKER HOVERED outside Elliot’s office. The sun streamed in through the windows, making dappled patterns on the carpet. Traffic swished by out the window, creating soothing, soporific white noise. Elliot hadn’t noticed her yet, but instead was staring very intensely at something on his computer screen. Parker wondered what it was. A psychologists’ forum? The Seattle Times? Porn?
Then Elliot glanced up. He paled and jumped, then smiled awkwardly. “Parker!” he said in a loud voice. “I didn’t see you there! Come in, come in!”
Parker slouched into the room, pulling the hoodie securely over her head. She slumped down on the couch and hugged a pillow. She could feel Elliot looking at her.
“Is everything okay?” Elliot asked with hesitation.
Parker shrugged. He could probably sense how antsy she felt. How prickly. She’d hesitated at the front door of the building for at least ten minutes before actually stepping inside, unsure she wanted to face his questioning during this session. Because she knew there would be questioning. Even crazy Parker was accountable for her meltdowns.
Elliot sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. “So, Parker. I’m guessing you don’t want to talk about the cemetery.”
“No,” Parker barked. She covered her ears. “No, no, no.”
“Hey, it’s okay.” Elliot rose from his seat, stepped forward, and gently lifted her hands away. He met her eyes, his bow-shaped lips curving into a smile. “Listen. We don’t have to talk about it. I promise. We can talk about something else.”
Parker blinked. “W-why don’t you want me to talk about it?” she demanded.
“Because obviously you’re not ready,” Elliot said, raising his palms. “And that’s fine. You have your reasons for not liking cemeteries. We can explore that, or we’ll talk about something else. I’ll never push you on anything.”
Parker sat quietly for a moment, letting this sink in. It felt like reverse psychology, but annoyingly, it was working. “It’s like something prevented me from going in there, a mental block or something,” she stated, trying to make sense of her emotions. “You know how psychics can tell if a place is cursed or tainted or if something bad happened there? It’s a feeling like that, maybe.”
“What do you think happened there?”
Parker shrugged. “I don’t really know. People died, obviously. Maybe that’s all.”