“You were right. It doesn’t feel like Christmas here at all. I almost miss the snow back in Crestwood. Almost.”
“I bet that’s not all you miss. Killian was blowing my phone up for like a week straight after you changed your number.”
“I had to.”
“I know I shouldn’t tell you this because you want a clean break but he’s miserable. Liam said he’s never seen him like this before. He’s like super depressed. He keeps lashing out at everyone. He’s drinking and fighting a lot.”
“Things always get worse before they get better, right?”
“I think you think you believe you did the right thing for you.”
I change the subject. I came here to get away from the drama back home. “So, you’re talking to Liam? I thought you were dating Woodrow.”
I follow her through the tan stucco single story home to the guest room. “You’ll sleep here, and I’m across the hall. Dad’s on the other end of the house. Are you hungry?”
“Not really. But you didn’t answer me about Liam and Woodrow.” After I put my luggage in the closet, we go into the kitchen. Hayley starts making herself a sandwich.
“Woodrow isn’t serious about me. I have fun with him, but he’s not Liam. We talk on the phone through text, but I think he’s started dating that Beth or whatever her name is.”
“How do you feel about it?”
“I don’t like it, but I want him to be happy even if it means it’s not with me.”
“How mature of you.”
“Well you and Killian kind of wrote the book on how not to break-up.” She smirks, and I roll my eyes.
“Ha.”
“Have you spoken with Hunter?”
“No. No way. He’s not who I thought he was.”
“I wasn’t really all that surprised. You had to know he had a thing for you.”
“I thought he was past it, but it doesn’t matter. It’s over. He’s a jerk, and Killian still fucked up.”
; “I guess that’s true.”
My stomach churns. “Hey, do you have any pickles?”
“Pickles?”
“Yes. I am dying for a big juicy pickle.”
My cousin laughs. “Help yourself.”
I open the fridge and happily find a jar of dill spears. Hayley gives me a fork to get one out with. The juice runs down my chin as I crunch down on heaven. “Mmm. So good.”
“You’re so weird.” She hands me a paper towel.
“Why am I weird?”
“I’m pretty sure you hate pickles.”
“Well now I don’t.”