Page 75 of Versions Of Us

“Hardly,” she scoffs, averting her focus out the window.

I’ve noticed she does this whenever I ask her a question. She gives me vague answers, never letting me all the way in.

“Where is Chase taking you today anyway?” she asks. “I thought you said you didn’t have a class today.”

“He’s taking me over to Ben’s Harvest. I need to collect the ingredients for all the things I’m making for the bake sale for the carnival tomorrow.”

“You’re actually working at the carnival tomorrow? Do you even know how to have fun?”

My eyebrows pinch in a frown and this time it’s me that has to look away because her words have hit a nerve.

Because Ihaveforgotten how to have fun.

Henley’s spontaneity had once kept my life exciting but when he left, I’d thrown myself into my studies and my work. I took on more than I needed to because that way I didn’t have time to stop and wonder where he was and what he was doing.

I turn back to Mackenzie. She’s chewing on her bottom lip, an air of regret seemingly surrounding her.

“Sorry,” she says. “That was rude.”

“It’s okay,” I tell her, shaking off her insult.

“No,” she disagrees. “It isn’t. I know I haven’t been the greatest house guest.” She stands, fumbling with the hem of her t-shirt. “Henley told me you were the kindest person he’s ever known. He said so many great things about you that I thought for sure he was making half of them up. But I see it now. You really are a good person.”

“I’m not perfect,” I say, remembering the way I’d spoken to her in the café. Before I’d offered her a place to stay, I’d belittled her, made her feel inferior.

“Maybe not. But according to him, you’re the closest thing to it.”

I frown at her words. Half of the problems between Henley and I had arisen from the pedestal he’d constantly put me on. And though everything has changed, he’s still singing my praises. It doesn’t make sense.

The distinct sound of Chase’s horn signals his arrival and to my relief, breaks the tension between us.

“Uh, I should go,” I say. “See you this afternoon?”

“Sure,” she nods.

I exit the apartment and wander down the stairs, Mackenzie’s words still running through my head. When I launch myself inside Chase’s jeep, I slam the door shut a little too hard.

“Whoa. You okay,” he asks.

“Yeah, fine,” I say, combing my hair behind my ear. “Why?”

“You seem flustered.” His face pulls downward in a frown.

“Ah, yeah. I’m okay,” I say, shaking my head as though nothing is okay. “There was just this weird moment with Mackenzie. But it’s fine. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay then. To Ben’s Harvest?”

“To Ben’s Harvest,” I agree.

I’m grateful that Chase has the good sense to let things go when I need him to. He puts the car in gear, and we set off in the direction of the largest produce store in the area.

Ben is loading boxes into the home delivery truck when we arrive, so we give him a quick wave and move through the store straight to the section where the baking needs are kept. I know I’ll find most of what I need there.

“What’s first on the list?” Chase asks.

“Flour,” I answer, my eyes skimming over the various types in stock.

Chase reaches for two extra-large bags of self-raising flour from the bottom shelf, lifting one over each shoulder as though they weigh nothing. “How many of these do you need?”

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