“I can still hear the crash in my head. I thought I was going to puke when I saw it cracked on the ground.”
She laughs, such a beautiful sound. “You went so pale that I thought you were going to puke too. And because your mom has supersonic ears, she came running downstairs to see what happened. The look on her face still scares me to this day.”
“That’s when Satan oozes from her pores—when someone fucks with her special Churchill China. They were my grandmother’s, so she cherishes those things. And that day, I broke one. I really thought that was the end for me. Dead at thirteen.”
“We didn’t come over for two weeks—we were too scared she was going to slit our throats with the broken pieces.”
Honestly, it’s not that huge of an exaggeration. At the time, they were her most valued possessions, and I was shocked she let us use them for the gathering tonight. But when she handed me one of the plates, she insisted they’ve always brought good luck to those who served on them, and she wanted to make sure we had all the luck on our side.
“I’m pretty sure she was planning all of our deaths, even matched up our schedules with your mom so she knew when to strike.”
“And she did, on Halloween.”
I throw my head back and laugh. How could I have forgotten about that?
Eric, Eve, and I liked to trick-or-treat as teenagers because, honestly, we liked candy, and no one cared that we were too old. They were just happy we weren’t getting into trouble somewhere else.
We would try to hit up all the houses in town and then go to the outskirts, where the houses are pretty huge and the families would hand out king-size bars. Only the brave went out to the woods since it was always so spooky, but it was worth it.
Since the houses were so far apart, we would bribe Griffin to drive us around in Dad’s van and pay him in candy. He never complained since he and Claire would just hang out in the car and make out until we got back.
A few weeks after the plate incident, we were trick-or-treating, and after we made it all the way to the Carlsons’ hilltop mansion, we went back to the van to hit up the next house. I reached for the door handle and opened it up, and out shot a screeching woman wearing a black cloak and a mask, who tackled all three of us to the ground as she leaped out of the car.
I don’t think I’d ever been more scared in my life as the three of us tumbled down the hill, a screaming lady hot on our heels. We got all the way to the bottom, and I was on the verge of a serious mental breakdown when she started laughing. And that’s when I heard her: my mom.
She laughed for a very long time, and so did Griffin and Claire, who’d helped her to plan the entire thing.
“Remember how we had a hard time opening car doors after that?” I ask.
“I wouldn’t do it for so long, and my mom got really irritated with me. Of course she wasn’t mad at your mom. Nope, she just said, ‘Next time don’t break one of Mrs. Knightly’s plates, and she won’t have to scare you out of your pants.’ At least we learned a lesson. From then on, Eric and I only used paper plates.”
“It was a smart move on your end. But there was something that stuck out at me that night—something I will never, ever forget.”
“Eric’s girly scream?”
“Well, yeah.” I laugh. “But I also remember that as we were tripping and rolling down the hill, I was trying to grab onto anything that would get me away from the crazy lady, and I grabbed your boob for the first time.”
She lets out a deep, hearty laugh. “Oh my God, you would remember that.”
“It was the first time I ever touched Eve Roberts’s boob—of course I remember it.”
“You make it seem like you had a crush on me or something.”
My smile falters. Does she really not know? It’s been over ten years. We spent half of our childhood together. All of the sleepovers when I’d sneak over to her room and we’d talk after Eric fell asleep, all the times we’d stand up for each other, all of the times she caught me staring at her while we were at the beach. Does she really not know?
“Eve, I’ve had a crush on you for as long as I can remember. You were the epitome of my dream girl.”
She shakes her head. “You don’t need to lie to me. I remember our childhood quite vividly.”
“Do you?”
“I do.” She sets down a dish and crosses her arms before she props a hip against the counter and gives me a stare. “I remember every single girl you dated, from Kelsey to Lydia to Hillary. I remember the conversations you’d have with Eric about every single one of them. I remember the gossip that went around school about your conquests. The girls fawned over you, vied for your attention, scooped you up every time you were single for more than a second. It was a rotating door of girls. And then you got weird—you barely even looked at me after a while. So I know you’re lying when you say you had a crush on me because if that was the case, and with your track record, we would have at least gone out on a date when we were juniors.”
“But you were untouchable,” I say, focusing on the dish in my hand as the truth pours out of me. “You were my best friend’s twin sister, and one of my best friends. If I screwed things up with you, I screwed things up with Eric and everything we had planned. Just because I didn’t make a move doesn’t mean I didn’t stare whenever I got a chance, that I didn’t dream of you at night, that I didn’t ever wonder what it would be like to press my lips against yours. You wonder why things got weird in high school, why I got distant? It was because I wanted you so damn bad but couldn’t have you.”
“Wait, are you serious right now?”
“Why would I lie about this?”
“I . . . I don’t know. To get in my good graces again.”
I turn off the water and face her. “Do you really think that little of me?”
“No,” she answers quickly. “I’m just trying to comprehend it all. I mean . . . Reid, I crushed on you so hard, ever since Eric introduced you as his friend.” She what? Excuse me while I try to comprehend this new little nugget. Eve Roberts crushed on me? “I would go to bed at night wishing you would look at me any other way than as just a friend.”
“Trust me, I was.”
She’s silent for a second before slowly lowering herself to the floor, tucking her knees against her chest, leaning back against the cabinets beneath the sink. Unsure of what’s going on, I do the same so our shoulders are touching, and we’re both staring out into the kitchen.
“Then you finally made a move.”
“Best idea of my life.”
“So why ruin it all?” she asks. “We were so close, Reid.”
“So close to what?”
She faces me, her features soft. “To love. We were so close to love, and then you broke it off.” Her gaze falls to her knees. “I loved you, and I was just waiting for you to catch up to my feelings.”
My stomach flips. “Loved?”
She presses her forehead against my shoulder and lets out a deep sigh before standing back up. I quickly join her, ready to confess everything. But when I face her, her expression has changed, her eyes have hardened, and I sense that she’s raised her defenses again—and that after my little confession, she needs to keep me at arm’s length.