Page 153 of Keeping Score

“Oh, gee, thanks.” Cassie rolled her eyes with a good-natured smile.

“No! I’m sorry. I love you!” I assured her while hurrying past her up the stairs. “I’m just looking for Brody. It’s kind of urgent.”

“He’s not here.”

I paused, turning back to face her. This really wasn’t going according to the plan I formulated in my head fifteen minutes ago on the drive over.

“Did he go to the rink early?” I asked, already digging through my purse for my car keys. I really needed to stop just dropping them in anywhere. I could never find them when I needed them.

I hurried back down the stairs, still searching, and contemplating whether I should get one of those big, absurd fluff-ball keychains Cassie had for this very reason, when her words stopped me in my track again.

“He’s not at the rink. He’s at your apartment.”

“He is?” I said, feeling elated. “That’s great!”

He must’ve been on the same page as me. He must’ve changed his mind about moving to Michigan. He must’ve realized what I did—that we can’t give up on each other. Not now. Not ever.

“Hey, Mags?” Cassie gripped my forearms. “I need you to relax because your eyes are kind of bugging out and it’s making me nervous, okay? Let’s take a breath.”

I did, nodding along excitedly as I blew out a breath in sync with her. Feeling more grounded, I focused on my friend in front of me. How pale she looked. And the scent radiating off of her.

“You smell kind of pukey, Cass.”

“I feel kind of pukey,” she answered.

I took a generous step back.

“It’s not contagious!” she quickly assured. “Something I ate. Anyway,” she waved it off. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

“I’m going to pull a Noah!” I told her. “Like you suggested.”

“What does that mean?” She shook her head, completely lost.

“‘The Notebook,’ Cass. I’m going to take a page out of Noah’s book and give Brody some big romantic speech or gesture or… I don’t know, but I’m going to do something. Maybe I’ll stop and get him flowers?”

“Flowers?” Cassie echoed.

“Yeah, Brody’s always getting me flowers and I’m so stupid. I’d never thought to give him any. I mean, guys like flowers too, don’t they?”

“Yes, but—why?”

“Because I love him, Cass! I love him, and I want to ask him to stay, and after everything I feel like I need to do it in some big way to show him how much he means to me.”

Cassie paused. Processed. Then took my hands and squealed, jumping up and down in excitement. For once, I joined her in the absurd display of celebration.

“Finally.” She threw her hands up in victory. “I’ve been waiting for you to figure this out.” Then she dragged me toward the front door, opening it for me and practically shoving me out before yelling, “Wait!”

I turned, watched her plunge her hand into the vase by the door and pull out the calla lilies that were still dripping by the stems.

“Here,” she shoved them toward me. “Don’t waste any time stopping. Take these and go now.”

We both laughed at the absurdity of the situation and the thrill of me—Maggie Brynn—going to profess my love.

“Good luck,” Cassie said, pulling me in for a hug.

“Thanks.” I breathed her in, feeling the puzzle pieces of life settling back into place again.

“Now, go get your man.”