Don’t Look Back

epilogue

There was one thing that I knew was the same before Cassie died and now. I had no patience whatsoever.

Shifting my weight from one foot to the next, I watched the time count down on the microwave like a bird of prey. Even when the contents started popping in rapid succession it still wasn’t fast enough.

I hated missing previews, even the ones shown on DVDs.

When the kernels slowed in their explosions, I whipped the bag out of the microwave and emptied the popcorn into a large bowl waiting on the counter. Cradling the buttery goodness against my chest, I spun around. Strands escaped my messy ponytail, falling along my cheeks.

Mom leaned against the kitchen bar with a bottle of water. She hadn’t picked up a glass of alcohol since that night. I couldn’t blame her, though, if she had indulged, but she had become a stronger person. The media had gone crazy with the story once it went live, and there was no way Mom could worry about what her friends said anymore. And I didn’t think she really did.

A tentative smile pulled at her lips. The gray shadows under her eyes weren’t as dark as they’d been the weeks following Dad’s arrest. He’d survived the shooting, and we were told he’d plead guilty to manslaughter plus a slew of other charges once he went to court. I really didn’t know how to feel about Dad. I don’t think I’d ever know how to feel about him.

“Watching a movie?” Mom asked.

I nodded. “Yeah, it’s about to start.”

She stepped aside. “I don’t want to keep you, then.”

It had been a month since I’d remembered everything, since the day Mom had shot Dad, stopping him from silencing the truth forever. Things hadn’t been perfect. Over the course of the following days, I had moments when I couldn’t remember something clearly and frustration would lap at my sides and quickly turn into anger.

Or when I couldn’t stop thinking about Cassie and the horrific details of the night she died. All she’d wanted was what I had—a real father. I wished I could have gone back in time knowing what I knew now and been a better friend.

Tomorrow would’ve been her eighteenth birthday. I planned on visiting her grave site … with Cassie’s mom. Strange to do so after she’d smacked me, but a few days after everything had happened, I remembered the music box.

With Scott in tow, I’d gone to Cassie’s house, and reluctantly, her mom had let me inside. As I suspected, Cassie had hidden something important in the music box. It was why she never wanted me touching it.

The music box housed her birth certificate.

Her mom had no idea how she’d gotten her hands on it, but seeing my father’s name listed as hers had been what started it all. I didn’t think Dad even knew he was on that birth certificate.

Holding the proof of who Cassie really was to me—to Scott and our whole family—had been harder than I ever thought it would be. There were so many what-ifs—what if Cassie had confided in me earlier on, what if Dad had just told the truth and accepted her. So many things would’ve been different.

I’d stopped taking my meds, but I still saw Dr. O’Connell once a week. I hadn’t written myself any more notes, but I woke up many nights covered in sweat and screaming like a banshee. It would be a long time before I was normal, but Scott was there those nights, and so was Mom.

Setting the popcorn bowl aside, I went to my mother and wrapped my arms around her. “I love you.”

Her posture was rigid as she hugged me back. Not the best hug, but we were working on it. Our relationship hadn’t been great before everything happened, but I figured it could only get better.

“I love you, too.” She brushed the loose strands off my forehead. “Get. Go have fun.”

Smiling, I untangled my arms and grabbed the bowl. Her gaze drifted over me, but she didn’t comment on my oversize sweatpants and shirt that had seen better days. Better—she was getting better.

I hurried through the rooms, hanging a right. I went down the stairs two at the time. Laughter and the low murmur of conversation rose up. Someone had paused the movie for me.

And I had a feeling I knew who.

Unable to stop the grin spreading across my lips, I moved around the sectional couch, stepped over a pair of long denim-clad legs, and plopped down.

Scott stretched over and snatched the bowl of popcorn away from me. “Thanks,” he said. “You’re the best.”

Julie giggled as she grabbed a handful. “Not saying much, considering the company.”

“Whatever.” He tossed a few kernels at her.

Watching them waste perfectly good popcorn, I sank back and inhaled the scent that always sent my heart racing—citrus and soap.

The arm on the back of the couch behind me slipped off and wrapped around my shoulders. He pulled me against his side and lowered his head, his lips brushing the curve of my neck as he whispered, “Missed you.”

Good pressure built in my chest as I tipped my head back and met eyes so blue they reminded me of electricity. “I was only gone five minutes.”

“So?” Carson said, lowering his head. “Long enough.”

“Cornball,” Scott muttered.

Julie smacked him. “Shut up. You say cornier things when no one else is around. He just has the balls to say it in front of us.”

I laughed.

“Whatever. I have balls,” Scott argued. “You know exactly how big—”

“No one wants to know that, dude,” Carson cut in, but his eyes were trained on me as if I was his entire world.

“Agreed,” I said quietly, reaching up and threading my fingers through the hair curling around the nape of his neck. His eyes flared, and my belly warmed. “Kiss?”

“Kiss.”

He brought his mouth to mine, and even though this kiss was sweet and had nothing on what he could do when we were alone, my breath still caught in my chest and my toes curled. Each time we kissed, it was like the first time, over and over again. Nothing compared to it.

I was pretty sure nothing ever would.

“Okay. If you guys are done making out, ready to watch the movie?” Scott asked, sounding only a little peeved.

Carson’s lips spread into a grin against mine. He stole one more quick kiss before he pulled back. “Yeah, we’re ready as ever.”

Cheeks flushed, I snuggled closer to Carson, throwing an arm around his waist. His fingers curled around the loose strands of my hair. The movie clicked on and the previews started to roll.

Things weren’t perfect. They were far, far from it, but they were getting there, and I wasn’t looking back. Not when there were so many good things in the future.