meaning it. The truth was, Dalton wasn’t all that bossy, I just liked having a mouthy comeback. “Do you want some water? Or a soda or something? I don’t have much.” I knew I probably didn’t even have any soda in my fridge, but I offered it anyway and hoped he wouldn’t want one.
“Water would be great, thanks,” he responded from the couch.
After putting the dishes in the dishwasher, I pulled out two glasses and filled them with water. I grabbed the plate of cookies and some napkins, balancing the items as I walked toward Dalton. He hopped off the couch and grabbed the drinks from my hand before setting them down on top of the coffee table. The cookies followed close behind, along with a short stack of napkins.
“Am I allowed to eat these now?” He reached for one of the napkins and placed two cookies on it as I moved to sit down next to him.
“I should tell you no.”
“But you won’t.” He put over half of the first cookie in his mouth, moaning as he began to chew, and I had to force myself to look away from the faces he was making as he ate the damn thing. “This is so good,” he said after he swallowed, then popped the rest of it in his mouth and chewed it slowly as he closed his eyes.
“I can tell you like it.” I reached for my own cookie before breaking off a small piece. After swallowing it, I yawned. I couldn’t help it, but I knew Dalton was going to comment on it if I didn’t stop. It wasn’t my first yawn of the evening.
“Am I boring you?” he teased.
I knew it. “No. I just get really tired at night. I usually wake up around three thirty every morning since I need to be at work so early, so by the time evening rolls around, I feel like a zombie.”
His eyes widened a little and he leaned forward, as if to get up. “Do you want me to go?”
I tensed at the thought of him leaving and quickly said, “No. Not yet,” because I wanted to power through this night.
To be honest, I never wanted it to end. Getting clarification on everything that happened when we were kids was helping me tremendously. Even now, after all this time, hearing certain things helped to set my mind at ease, not to mention my heart. As much as I tried to believe that Dalton and what happened between us was firmly in the past, having him here and talking about us made it abundantly clear that I was still affected by him.
Thinking back to the comment about closure that Kristy had made the other day, it occurred to me that being around Dalton only reinforced that it wasn’t closure I wanted. Even if we cleared up the misunderstandings of our past and put them to rest, I still wanted the possibility of a future with him.
I was definitely following my heart when it came to Dalton Thomas. Different year, same Cammie.
He took a long sip of his water, and then glanced at me. “Can I ask you something?”
I nodded. “Of course.”
“Why did you stop talking to me back then?”
“You’re joking, right?” I was completely shocked. There was no way he didn’t know the reason, or hadn’t figured it out by now.
He leaned back against the couch after placing his water glass on the coffee table. “I swear. I had no idea then and I have no idea now.”
“You asked Carla Benten to prom! That was the final straw for me when it came to you. I was devastated when I heard that, and I felt like you didn’t care about me at all. All the time we’d spent together, and I meant nothing to you,” I admitted, those hurt feelings from all those years ago coming rushing back.
Dalton gave me an incredulous look. “I only asked Carla because I heard that you were going with Mark Davies!”
“Mark asked me, but I said no.”
I recalled the day that Mark came up to me at school to ask me to prom. He was so sweet about it, and even though it damn near killed me to tell him no, I had to. I was waiting for someone else to ask, someone who never would. Someone named Dalton.
“Jesus,” Dalton said on a long breath. “When I heard people talking in the halls about you and Mark going to prom together, I fucking lost it. I was so damn jealous and so pissed off, that I decided I’d ask the next girl who flirted with me. I turned around and there was Carla Benton, grabbing my arm, laughing at something I said that wasn’t even funny. And that was it.”
• • •
Kristy had approached me that day, nervously looking around as she said, “I have something to tell you.”
“Just say it,” I’d snapped, feeling suddenly insecure and nervous. Mark Davies had asked me to prom earlier and I’d told him no. I hoped what Kristy had to say didn’t have anything to do with that.
“Dalton asked Carla Benten to prom.” Kristy eyed me as she waited for my reaction, knowing me well enough to know it wasn’t going to be a good one.
He did what? How could he? I knew that Dalton wasn’t technically my boyfriend, but I never thought he would do something so disrespectful and thoughtless.
Kristy’s head tilted to one side, as if she half expected me to crumple to the floor at any second with her stupid, horrible news. And I wanted to—oh, how I wanted to—but I refused to give Dalton the satisfaction.