“We had all our firsts together. First crushes. First school dance. First skinny dip. We even shoplifted together.” She shoots me a shy grin. “Just once though.”
My cock jumps atskinny dipping. I take a sip of my water. “What’d you steal?”
“Lipstick from the Piggly Wiggly.”
The image that pops into my head of two gangly tweeners darting between the rows makes me smile. “Did you get caught?”
Her cheeks flush. “Annaleise did. I thought for sure she would rat me out, but she didn’t.”
“Sounds like a true friend.”
“She was there for me when my mom passed.”
I fork another bite of salad. So this is why she’s never mentioned her mom. “How old were you when you lost her?”
“Twelve.”
That’s the same age my nephew Logan is now, and the same age as Greta when Kelly and I separated. There’s never a good time to lose a parent, but the scars are deeper at ages like this.
“Is that why you guys moved away?” I ask.
Her gaze turns thoughtful as she spirals another bite of pasta around her fork. “My dad said it was for the job in Boise, but yeah, I think he was relieved to get away from here. From all the reminders of her.”
“Is that how you felt, too?” I get the need for a fresh start. I’m pretty sure if Everett and I hadn’t made it out of Miller’s Ferry, we wouldn’t be here at all.
A sudden memory of Trina eyeing me in The Limelight’s crowded back hallway flashes in my mind, but I shakemy head. I ignored her look then, I can just as easily ignore this random thought.
“Yes and no,” Meg replies, taking a bite. A stray curl of her blonde hair falls past her cheek. Resisting the urge to tuck it back sends an angry prickle over my skin. I need to stop thinking about touching her.
“I didn’t want to leave, but maybe it’s better I did?” She shakes her head. “School got weird. Everyone was fussing over me. Girls who had never talked to me before suddenly wanted to be my friend. Teachers whispered about me when they thought I couldn’t hear.”
I’ve experienced this, but without the sympathy. When everyone knows you’re the new kid who escaped a cult, none of them want to be your friend.
“Our neighbors got weird too,” Meg continues. “Always stopping by. Bringing food. Offering to take care of me.”
“Nice they cared,” I say.
“For sure,” she replies with a nod. “But when it went on for months, it kind of overwhelmed my dad. It made him feel like people didn’t believe he could hack it as a single parent. I mean, would they still have brought over casseroles three months later and offered to clean our house if Mom had been the widow?”
I nod because she has a point. I had a taste of this when Kelly and I split, though Kelly was the only one who doubted my abilities. My family’s belief in me never faltered. Even on the days I could barely get out of bed.
“Are you and your dad still close?” I ask.
She draws a slow breath, then swallows hard. “I, um…”
I wait, keeping a steady eye on her.
She wipes her mouth with her napkin. Finally, she meets my gaze. “For the longest time, it was just the two of us, and yeah, we were really close. But I think things have changed. It’s…hard.”
I’m no expert on family dynamics, but I want to know what she’s getting at. “What’s changed?”
“We don’t talk as much. He’s often distracted. Or he’ll let Darienne talk while he zones out.” She sets down her fork and sips from her water.
“He retired this year, right? Transitions can be hard for people.”
“That’s true.” She nods.
Why is she holding back? I respect a good dodge of topic, but it stirs my curiosity.
