Page 128 of Not Another Yesterday
Ronan
I knew something was off the minute Cat stopped answering my calls Saturday afternoon. The texts she did send were… not her. Short, overly casual, like she was trying too hard to sound normal. At first, I chalked it up to her weekend plans with Tori, Summer, and Vada. She’d been excited about it all week. They had it all mapped out. And I had my own distractions in Boston, helping Steve move from his dorm into his new apartment.
I finally met hisgirl, too, and was looking forward to telling Cat about her. But when she started dodging my calls, when her replies felt like placeholders instead of conversations, I got the distinct impression she wouldn’t exactly welcome a long paragraph about Steve’s sophomore-year adventures.
I got home late last night. I had half-expected Cat to have changed her mind about waiting for me at the apartment, but was relieved to find her asleep in my bed. Maybe I imagined everything?
Nope. Definitely not. That nagging pull in my chest hasn’t gone away. I figured I’d get her to talk this morning, easing in with soft questions—You alright? Did something happen?—while we got ready, at breakfast. Nothing. And with every passing minute, the knot in my gut cinches tighter.
She won’t look me in the eyes. Won’t reach for my hand. Barely tolerates my touch.
After Shane leaves to open Murphy’s, Cat disappears into his and Tori’s bedroom to “talk to Tori.” She’s in there for over half an hour. Door closed. Not a sound, which is saying something, considering these walls are practically tissue paper. Trust me, I’ve hadplentyofproof. Clearly, their discussion is in hushed voices. They don’t want me to hear.
I wander through the apartment in search of something to do, to stop myself from pacing like a fucking lunatic. Laundry it is. I gather all the towels, empty both Shane’s and my hampers, and head down to the basement to start a washer. The second I slam the lid shut and drop in four quarters, I pull out my phone and text Shane.
Me:
Did something happen while I was in Boston that I need to know about?
Luckily, Shane doesn’t make me wait.
Shane:
No. Why?
Me:
Because Cat’s been stand-offish all morning and now she and Tor are in your bedroom “talking.” With the door closed.
Shane:
Oh shit.
Me:
Yeah…
Shane:
What did you do?
I frown, quickly hammering out a reply.
Me:
Dude, I have no fucking clue. We were good Saturday morning. Then she stoppedanswering my calls. Things have been weird ever since.
Shane:
Tor hasn’t said anything to me. Do you think maybe Cat’s planning something for your birthday? That’s in like two weeks.
I pause, considering his idea, but my gut tells me that’s not it.
Me:
No. She’s just not herself, but not in a “I’m planning something fun” way. Something’s wrong, Shay!
Shane:
