Page 34 of Our Secret Moments

Sam and Wes.

I swear I’m going to murder them both one day. Wes is baring all of his teeth, grimacing as if he feels bad for throwing a football at my head, but Sam is snickering like a child. I don’t know what invite Sam was given, but he’s the only person in this joint wearing a costume that isn’t from a Disney film as he casually rocks a Shrek cosplay outfit.

“Sorry,” Wes shouts. “Olaf is having a wardrobe malfunction, and we need your help.”

“You needthreepeople to help?” I ask, annoyed.

“Yeah, well, it’s not like you’re busy,” Sam says, gesturing to me and Cat as she crosses her arms against her chest.

“Iambusy,” I groan, remembering the position I was in less than two minutes ago.

“That was a rhetorical question,” Sam argues.

I roll my eyes at him, turning back to Cat. I look down at her and she doesn’t seem pissed like I thought she would. Instead, she looks somewhat relieved. She gives me a weak smile.

“Somebody needs to tell him that is not what a rhetorical question is,” she murmurs, trying and failing to hide her grin. I just want to kiss it off her, pester her face with my kisses until she’s hot all over.

“I’m sorry. I’ll come find you later, okay?” I whisper into the space between us. She nods, blinking up at me with her perfect eyes. “I want to finish what we started.”

“Well, don’t take too long because I can take care of myself, Connie.”

“Thisis why you interrupted me?” I ask, exasperated when I finally make it up the stairs. I’m staring at a half-naked Archer while Wes and Sam look at me like I’m a fucking fairy godmother who is supposed to somehow fix their problem.

“We tried to do some DIY, and as you can see, it did not go to plan,” Wes says, gesturing toward Archer’s discarded Olaf costume which lays on the floor of my childhood bedroom.

“Yeah, it should be called DNDIY: Do Not Do It Yourself. This shit is ridiculous,” Sam says, placing his hands on his hips as he looks down at the costume. Do I even want to ask? They must register the confusion on my face because more bullshit comes out of Sam’s mouth. “You didn’t tell us how hard it would be for him to take a leak in this thing. So, Archie Boy took it off and we had some fun with the scissors.”

Archer holds up the costume which now has a huge hole in the crotch area and two on both sides. What kind of idiot cuts things like that? “See what they’ve done?”

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” Wes says. Archer scowls at him before fitting the piece over his head which has also apparently lost afew inches because he doesn’t get the thing any further than his chest, his hands still in the air.

“You look like a deformed elephant,” I mutter, turning back around. I can’t believe he dragged me away from the best part of my night.

I meant what I said. I want to finish what we started.

By the time I get back to where I left Catherine, the party had grown tenfold. I don’t know how people get invited to these things without Nora and I saying, but knowing how she is, she probably invited everyone from her class, afraid of telling them no.

The music is still blaring in my ears, sweat trickling down my spine as people bump into me, drunkenly mumbling their happy birthdays as I try to find the one good part of my day.

When I finally find her, she’s not where I left her. Instead, she’s in the one room I never expected to find her.

My parents have a small office-like room with soft leather couches, a coffee table and a ton of board games which they’ve hoarded over the years. Catherine is sitting in one of the oversized chairs, curled up with her knees to her chest.

“Are you okay?” I ask into the room. It’s quieter in here which is why she flinches at the sound of my voice. She turns to look at me as she nods, but I don’t believe her. I kneel in front of her, tilting my head to the side as I rest my hand on her knee. This is not the Cat I had in my arms twenty minutes ago. “What’s wrong?”

She sighs, laughing a little at herself. “My social battery is hanging on by a thread.”

I nod in understanding. Cat’s a party girl. She goes out more than I do. But sometimes I wonder if she goes out just to say she’s been out, not because she actually cares about the stupid things that happen at parties.

“Do you want some water?” I ask and she nods. Luckily the room has a black mini fridge disguised as a cupboard, so I open it and pull out a crisp bottle of water, placing it into her hands. She smiles as she opens the cap, taking a sip.

“Thank you,” she murmurs. My eyebrows pull together. She’sthankingme? What did I do that needs a thank you from her? Does she not know that I’d lay at her feet all day if she asked me to? “No one’s ever done that for me before.”

“No one’s ever gotten you some water when you needed it?” I ask curiously.

She shakes her head. “Not when I’m like this.”

I run my hand against her knee again. “You can talk to me, Cat, you know that, right? You can tell me anything. You don’t have to hide from me.”

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