“Really? Oh my God. Why didn’t you tell me? Did you just decide today? Why didn’t you tell me? This is incredible news. Oh my God. I’m elated.”
“You didn’t know?” Jonas asks, his face etched with obvious confusion.
Kat takes in the expression on Jonas’ face and her entire demeanor changes on a dime.Boom.She knows something’s up. Just like that. Thanks, Jonas.
“No, he didn’t mention it to me,” she says slowly, her eyes drifting warily to mine. “Why didn’t you mention it to me, Josh?” she asks, her tone edged with obvious apprehension. “Were you planning to... surprise me?”
Oh shit. This isn’t good. This is really, really bad. “Uh...” I begin.
“How long have you known?” she asks quietly, understanding dawning on her. “You said you already found a place?”
Shit. I’ve totally fucked up here. I’ve really, really fucked up.
“I’ve known for just a little while,” I say. “Let’s talk about it later, okay?”
She swallows hard. “How long have you known, Josh?” Her lip trembles.
I look at the group. They’re all staring at me.
“Did you know when I said that thing about the long distance thing being brutal? Did you know then?”
Shit. “Let’s talk about it later, babe,” I say, trying to sound charming and smooth. “Don’t get all worked up about it. I was just waiting until it was for sure.”
A strange cocktail of emotions flashes across her face in response to that comment—like she’s not sure whether to be extremely disappointed or relieved. “Oh, it’s not for sure? That’s why you didn’t tell me?”
“Well, no. Actually.” I swallow hard. “It’s for sure. I’m moving.”
“Oh.” She shifts in her seat. Her cheeks flush. “That’s great. So you’ve already made... plans? You’ve got a place?”
“Let’s talk about it later. What’s everyone planning to sing next?”
The entire bar is boisterously singing along to the final chorus of “American Pie.” But I feel anything but festive. My stomach is churning. My chest is tight.
“Have you put your house on the market yet?” Kat asks, her chin wobbling.
Oh shit. This is a catastrophe. Why didn’t I foresee how badly this would go down?
“Uh. Yeah, actually, it sold last week.”
“It alreadysold?” Her face turns bright red and her eyes prick with tears. “How long was it on the market?”
“Can we talk about this later. In private?”
“How long was it on the market?” she asks between gritted teeth.
“About three weeks.”
The two “American Pie” guys depart the stage to raucous applause.
“And now,” the DJ says into his microphone, reading from the piece of paper I gave him earlier. “I have a very special treat for you.”
“Kat, we’ll talk about it later, okay? Here.” I pull the poker chip out of my pocket and plunk it into her palm. “Please. I’ll explain everything to you later. Right now, I’ve got a surprise for you.”
She looks down at the poker chip, her eyes filling with tears, and I know I just made matters worse, not better. Much, much worse. Oh Jesus. I’m an idiot.
I stand and motion to the DJ to tell him to stop, but he doesn’t see me because he’s looking at the fucking piece of paper in his hand—the paper I gave him and asked him to read into his goddamned microphone.
“We unexpectedly have a superstar among us tonight, folks,” the DJ says, reading from my script. “The one and onlyRachel Marron.”
