Page 38 of For Crosby

I finished my conversation, got myself a drink, and spotted Trish outside hanging with a small group of people we’d graduated with. Most of them went to school out of state, so opportunities like these were our chance to get back together and catch up.

I grabbed hold of the back door handle, eager to join my old friends outside.

“Sabrina.”

I knew that voice immediately. I dropped the door handle and spun around. Steve stood there looking as hot as he had when we’d dated—all tall, blond, and tanned. Even in high school, we were mature enough to admit we didn’t belong together. I was the girl with a comeback for everything. He was the guy who loved my comebacks, but loved other girls just as much. “Hey.”

He walked up to me and pulled me into a hug. “When’d you get home?”

“Late last night. You?” I stepped out of his arms.

“Flew in a couple days ago.”

I nodded. “How’s Hawaii treating you? Must be torture.”

He laughed. “Surf instructor by day, student by night. Not a bad gig.”

I laughed, picturing the heads turning as he walked shirtless down the beach. “I bet.”

His eyes perused me slowly. “You’re looking good.”

“Obviously.”

He laughed as he glanced around. “Who you with?”

“Trish. She’s outside.”

“So, you didn’t bring a boyfriend home with you?”

I shook my head. “Do you think any Bama boy could handle all this?”

He burst out laughing as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his side. “I’ve missed you.” He pushed open the back door, and we stepped outside onto the brick patio together.

The mild December night air hit us as we approached Trish whose back faced us. The people she stood with noticed Steve and me and their eyes widened. Did they think we were back together?

“She’s changed since she’s been in Alabama,” Trish told the group. “Was she this much of a bitch before she left? Or was I just too busy being one of her minions to notice?”

Steve’s hand tightened on my shoulder, knowing I’d be reeling from her harsh words.

“Hey, Sabrina,” a girl standing beside Trish said, attempting to shut her up. But I’d heard enough to know where I stood with my old friend.

Trish turned quickly, her guilty eyes on me.

The only sound on that silent patio was a firetruck’s siren bellowing in the distance.

I hoped my anger carried through my eyes as I stared at Trish, all the good times we’d shared vanishing as if in a cloud of smoke. “Being someone’s minion is a choice,” I said. “I never asked you to be anything but my friend. Clearly, that was too difficult for you.” I pulled free from Steve’s grasp, looking to him briefly. “It was nice to see you.”

He nodded sadly as I turned and walked back through the house and right out the front door.

* * *

My family began arriving at one on Christmas day. That was my cue to head downstairs from my bedroom to greet them. I’d only been home for a couple days, but as much as I loved seeing my parents, I missed being on campus with Finlay—my real friend.

I heard Aunt Pat’s voice before I even reached the foyer. Her larger-than-life personality commanded an audience whenever she entered a room. My cousin Sasha, her only daughter, always seemed to fade into the background when her mother was around. I wondered how she was doing away at college. She’d been eager to get away from home, opting for school in Texas as opposed to Florida. I wondered if she’d shed her shyness and come out of her shell while away.

I bounded down the stairs in my red dress and shimmery heels, careful of the banisters wrapped with greenery and lights. My parents greeted Aunt Pat and Sasha in the foyer. Though it was sixty degrees outside, Aunt Pat donned a fur coat. Sasha looked good. Happier. Her jeans and red cashmere top was such a change from the frumpy clothes she used to wear. And her usual brunette bob had grown out and now hung in bouncy waves.

“Merry Christmas,” I said, greeting them both with hugs.

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