“Your brother’s letter, oh my god, Ty. Beautiful…Nate’s letter was so amazing…OMG, I can’t quit thinking about Nate’s letter….”
Yes. There have been OMGs. I hate OMGs. Cass is not an OMG girl, and OMG, Nate’s letter has turned her into one!
As much as I want to give him crap for it, I can’t. It was a damn good letter. So good that I’ve gone to jewelry stores—actual jewelry stores, where women in suits have to pull things out of cases for me to look at—just to find the right…something! I keep putting the jewelry back, though, because no matter what’s inside, when you give a chick a small velvet box like that, it gets weird. Even if it’s not a ring—and it’s totally not going to be a ring—there’s the small moment, that brief second where she thinks “what if” and you think, “oh shit, she thinks it’s a ring.”
I’m done looking in jewelry stores.
I’ve been trying to tell Cass I love her now for days. It was easier to say it to her dad. When I get with her, when we talk on the phone, there’s just this block, like my brain falls apart.
“Dude, I know you want to make this special, or whatever, but I gotta tell ya, you’re way overthinking it,” Nate says.
“Easy for you to say. You’re practically a damned Disney fairytale,” I say, moving back to my chair to head to my room.
“Don’t call me Disney until I get the girl,” he yells as I move farther down the hall. “If that letter doesn’t get a response soon, I’ll be more like one of those depressing gangster movies you like where everybody dies.”
“No, you’ll be like Leo in Titanic,” I yell back over my shoulder. “Martyr. You’ll be a total martyr.”
“Your obsession with DiCaprio is not healthy!” he yells, sending one of Mom’s throw pillows down the hall behind me with a fling. It falls short, which makes me smirk. He missed.
“Don’t dis Leo. And pick that up, Mom doesn’t like it when you throw her things around,” I say, waiting for three, two…
“Nathan! I don’t throw your things on the floor,” my mom says, stepping out of the laundry room to pick the small pillow up and put it back in its place. The child in me still loves getting my brother in trouble, even when it’s meaningless.
I move to my bed and work my jeans off so I can pull on my sweatpants. It’s barely eight at night in California, but Cass likes it when I call her before bed. I haven’t been sleeping well lately, sharp nerve pains in my back and neck. I’ve spent the last two days helping Kelly box up things to put in the garage. She and Jared officially separated, but he came over for Christmas. Kelly wants to work things out, but I’m not sure Jared’s capable of that. I don’t trust him. I don’t like him. But I’ve been keeping my opinion to myself, because right now is not the time Kel needs to hear it.
Once I hit CALL on my phone, I let my eyes close for a few seconds. Tonight, I just can’t seem to keep them open.
“Hey, you’re early,” she answers. I flip my lamp off and tug the heavy comforter up to my chest.
“Yeah, I know. I’m so sorry, but I don’t think I can sit up much longer,” I say through a yawn.
“Uhhh, that’s what I get for dating an old man,” she jokes.
“Hey, don’t tell me you don’t appreciate the blue-plate specials,” I say. “You love a good buffet.”
“Yeah, the senior discounts are pretty swag,” she says. “And you can still get it up, so…I’ll stick around for a while longer.”
“You know I’m not rich, so there’s no money in this for you when I die,” I say.
“Damn. Forget it. I’m out,” she says, waiting a few seconds before she lets her laugh breakthrough. I love her. I love her. I love her.
“How are things…with Paige?” Some nights we talk about Paige a lot. Others, I can tell talking about her sister is off the table. Cass can’t seem to decide if she’s sad about her sister or angry with her.
“We actually went to the mall today. We had gift cards, from Christmas,” she says.
“Well that’s progress, right? Shopping—that’s the girl equivalent for football, breaks down all barriers, the ultimate common denominator, right?” I ask.
“Hmmmm, I think I’d rather have football, but I get your logic,” she says. “Yeah, I guess things were a little better. We talked in the car. A little.”