Page 20 of Because of Her

The moment feels more intimate than either of us intended. I lean back, the movement prompting her to push up so she can look at my face.

“You hungry?”

She nods, laughing when her own stomach rumbles at the thought of food.

“Let’s go get something,” she says as she stands.

I spot her coat and bag on the floor. She must have been on her way out when she found me in the hall. The sky outside is pitch black, too close to the city for any stars to shine through. I wonder how long we’ve been sitting on the couch, knowing how easy it is for me to get lost in my thoughts.

“Cass, were you going somewhere? I’m sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter. You needed me.”

She picks up her bag and hangs her coat over her shoulders before adding, “I am starving though, so you better take me to get food before I get hangry.”

My mind flicks back to a much younger Cassidy, overworked, tired, and hangry when our boss at the time forgot to open a second register so she could have her break.

Not wanting to see her hangry ever again, I rush to move off the couch.

CALLUM

Restaurants are buzzing with activity, lines queuing outside the entrances. We walk the length of main street without talking, because all I can think about is the panic attack I had in the hall.

It’s been years since I had one. Many, many, years. Although if I’m honest with myself, I’m surprised I haven’t had more recently. As it turns out, your whole life being flipped upside down, and the one person you care most about in the world being ripped away from you, will really play on your mental health.

While I’m glad to be out getting food, I also desperately crave my bed. I’m exhausted from the adrenaline that surged and the crash that has hit me.

“Argh, everywhere is booked,” Cassidy groans as we are turned away from yet another restaurant.

“We’ll find somewhere,” I mutter, despite knowing at this time on a Saturday night, we probably won’t.

Continuing down the length of the street, the eateries get further and further apart, until we are standing on the corner at the end of the main strip. Everywhere was either booked for the night, closed for a function, or had a forty-five minute wait time.

“Those Golden Arches sure look appealing.” She is staring wistfully at the McDonalds across from us, and I don’t blame her.

“Chicken and Cheese?” I ask, reaching out to hit the button to activate the pedestrianlights.

Cassidy moans, leaning towards the building. “How did you know?”

Inside, it smells like deep fried potatoes and greasy burgers. Families scatter throughout the dining space with kids squealing in excitement. Across from me, chicken burger in one hand and fries in the other, Cassidy looks like she has barely changed from when we were teenagers.

Her hair, although longer than it was back then, still sits in loose waves over her shoulder. Her skin still glows, and the golden flecks in her green eyes are sparkling against the fluorescent tubes overhead.

I hate the way our friendship ended. I hate that I was so bitter, angry, jealous and, honestly, scared that I let her walk away. All over a stupid teenage job. I should have known she would quit eventually, we all wanted to quit back then.

“I’m glad we circled our way back to one another,” I say. I mean it, too. Despite all the what-ifs, despite my confusing feelings, having Cassidy back in my life feels like it means something. It’s only been a few weeks, but we’ve fallen back into an easy friendship I’m incredibly grateful for.

“Me, too.” She looks up, a glint in her eyes as she smiles before shoving a handful of fries in her mouth.

“Couldn’t think of anyone else I’d rather stuff my face with McDonalds with than you.” Her mouth is still full of food when she says it, tiny bits of chewed up potato flying out of her mouth and onto the table.

I can’t stop the way my whole body vibrates with laughter. I throw my head back and enjoy the way my cheeks hurt. It feels good. I haven’t laughed this hard, and genuinely felt it, in a long time. I clutch my sides, enjoying the feeling. Teenagers sitting a table away from us stare over before sniggering amongst themselves. I ignore them, no longer concerned over what strangers think of my actions.

We eat the rest of our grease filled meal in between grossdisplays of talking with food in our mouths and numerous fits of laughter. It feels playful, childish, but also intimate in a way I struggle to make sense of. Even in the peak of our relationship, I wouldn’t have acted like this around Audrey. And I doubt Cassidy would act like this around many other people. Together, we know it’s a judgement free zone. We can be our goofy selves, reminiscent of our teenage personalities, and it works. Together, we work.

I’m still thinking about it as we head back to the apartment. I’m still thinking about it when Cassidy ducks into the bottle shop on our block corner. And I’m still thinking about it when she walks out with a six pack of Pirate Lifes and a pack of her vodka fruity whatevers.

“You’re obviously coming in for a drink,” she says. Juggling the drinks against her hip, she rummages through her bag for her key.

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