Mercy’s texts and calls. Six. Two from Kane and four from Zane. Kane sent her a cryptic picture of a painting he’s working on and asked her to guess what it is, and Zane asked her about her plans for the upcoming holiday break.
It’s like the events from our disastrous dinner date never happened.
MERCY
We don’t really celebrate Thanksgiving. We save up for our annual Christmas party instead.
ZANE
Kane and I rent a cabin every year. Want to come?
What.
The.
Fuck.
MERCY
I don’t know…
Who’s going?
He better say that they invite the entire goddamn neighborhood?—
ZANE
Me and him
Hopefully you
That’s it
Did you want to invite someone?
Say my name.Mercy.Tell him that you want to invite me. I clutch my phone so tightly that my case creaks.
MERCY
Maybe. Let me think about it.
I curse under my breath at her noncommittal answer. She could be thinking about inviting her sister. Her father. Hell, hergrandmother.None of which are good answers, but hey, if it keeps either of them from kissing her at this romantic cabin, she can invite the goddamn Pope for all I care.
My phone suddenly vibrates in my hand.
MERCY
Hey, can we talk?
My lungs collapse as I stare at the three little dots on our text chain. She’s typing something. Texting. Communicating.
With me.
MERCY
I want to apologize… and ask for a favor.
Can I come over?