Page 54 of Fair Catch

“Exactly,” he says, pulling the door open. “Enjoy your date with Freddy while I have one with an actual human being.”

I’ve gotten so used to bumbling, easily flustered Kason, sometimes I forget this version exists too. The feisty one that fires back shots. It’s the side of him I wish I could see more of lately.

Flipping him the bird, I shout, “Get lost, and remember I’m the best emergency contact you have!”

His response never comes—just the signature sound of the front door clicking shut—and I know he’s off to meet Madden at the restaurant I’d recommended to him. And while I want this date to go well for Kason, something isn’t sitting right.

Part of me is tempted to call him back here and convince him to cancel. To spend the night here watching old horror flicks with me, keep with the same nightly pattern we’ve fallen into since he called for a truce.

I don’t give into the temptation, though.

Kason wants this.Needsthis, even.

The last thing I’m gonna do is stand in his way.

Kason’s been gone for almost forty-five minutes, and I’ve yet to hear from him.

Each date he’s gone on thus far, I’ve always heard from him within twenty-minutes, tops. Granted, it was because things were going terribly, but still. I would assume he’d do the same thing even if the date was going well too.

I check my phone again—for what might be the fifteenth time in five minutes—only to find it still void of notifications. And though I shouldn’t, I find the matter rather unsettling.

What the hell is going on?

Even my attempts at filling my night with Freddy Krueger aren’t able to get my mind off it, and eventually, I give in and text him for some reassurance.

Me: You good?

I stare at the message, practically willing those three little bubbles to pop up on the screen, followed by a request to come save him from what has to be the world’s most boring date. But as a minute passes, then a few more, only for Kason to not respond, another pang of anxiety hits me in the gut.

What if something is going wrong and he can’t message me back?

Me: Please tell me he didn’t kidnap you.

Five minutes later, still nothing.

Me: Earth to Kason. Send proof of life or I’m sending the police for a wellness check.

No response, and now we’re at over an hour without hearing a thing.

Fucking hell.

Anxiously, I tap my phone on my knee and try to convince myself to let it go. That everything is likely fine, and he’s just busy having a good time on his date. Hell, maybe even a great time, schmoozing it up withMaddenthe baseball player.

More importantly, I should be enjoying this time I get to myself. It’s what I wanted all along, and was always the plan to make this truce work even better than it already is.

So why can’t I let this go?

Maybe it’s because, despite the walls I’ve attempted to maintain, Kason has sort of become a friend to me. And friends look out for each other in situations like this.

Sending texts for updates should be pretty standard stuff. I mean, it’s not like I’m storming the restaurant to find him. Except, once that idea manages to worm its way into my thoughts, there’s no erasing it. But I mean…if we are friends, it shouldn’t be that big of a deal to make sure, even if it’s just from a safe distance.

Right?

Well, that’s what I keep telling myself as I’m walking into the restaurant he and Madden are at for their date.

I spot them near the back corner of the dining room, tucked in a corner booth. From the looks of it, they’re in the middle of eating their main course, and everything is going just fine.

They’re chatting and laughing, seemingly getting along, and Kason…issmiling.

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