Page 44 of As the Rain Falls (Sainte Madeleine #1)

BECAUSE SHE ASKED ME TO

Beckett

It’s a bright, sunny day outside, but Pepé is having none of it.

He’s been in a mood ever since I took him to the vet for a checkup.

I had to bribe him with fried chicken to get him to jump out of the car afterwards.

The vet reassured me that his fur is still shedding so much because he feels stressed, but at least his health is improving, little by little.

Small victories, I guess.

Pepé‘s tail hangs low as we make our way back to the house, like he’s sulking.

He probably feels betrayed after getting poked at.

I’m hoping seeing his favorite person might help him cheer up a little.

Cassandra isn’t here yet, but she’s supposed to be on her way home from school soon.

I wait for her outside, wanting to give her a rundown on what happened at the appointment.

When Caleb Monteiro pulls up, I spot her leaning in to kiss him before getting out of the car.

Another guy seems to be driving, but I don’t recognize him.

I tell myself not to stare at them for too long, but it’s hard not to.

It looks like Antony was right, after all.

If he’s driving her home, they must be a thing now.

“Beckett!” She rushes to my side, her long braid flying behind her. I open my arms to give her a hug, which she is enthusiastic to return. “Sorry I didn’t text you back, but I missed you all day!

Her sweet scent surrounds me, and the corners of my lips stretch into a small smile. “I missed you too.”

“How was the appointment? I got so busy with school that I forgot to ask, and Caleb wanted to show me his cousin’s new apartment after class.”

Caleb rolls his eyes slowly, as if hearing his own name being spoken from afar.

It’s only then that I truly notice him still watching us through the window.

I don’t pull away from Cassandra and even start to feel bold enough to bury my nose against her hair instead because fuck him.

His indifference to another guy being this close to the girl he supposedly likes should be a red flag, but she doesn’t see the way he is giving me a thumbs up as the car drives off.

Clearly, Caleb doesn’t care about her, while I… I hate the mere thought of her spending the afternoon running shitty errands with him. I might be losing my mind or something, because this isn’t normal. I shouldn’t be feeling like this about my friend.

“Pepé’s officially on anxiety pills,” I sigh, pressing small kisses to her forehead. “I need to call the pharmacy to see if they have the prescription ready or not.”

“I can do that if you give me the name.” Cassandra pulls back before glancing at Pepé. He stares her down pointedly before turning away to lick his paw, not paying her any mind either. “Aw, he’s mad at me too?”

I shrug. “I’ve been trying to cheer him up.”

She gasps dramatically, “And no luck?”

I shake my head. It’s obvious just how much Pepé hates me now.

“Why’s he so cranky?” she pouts as the dog trots away, still set on snubbing her. “Pepé, do you want to go to the park ?”

That makes him freeze mid-set and walk right back, tail wagging enthusiastically. The blue pleated skirt hikes up to her mid-thighs as Pepé tries to sniff at it. Cassandra laughs, adjusting her uniform. I pull her close, trying to help her keep her balance.

“Pepé! That’s my skirt, you silly!”

“The vet trimmed his nails too,” I explain, nudging him away when he gets too nosy. “One was growing into his paw. We didn’t notice it.”

Her eyes soften, “Poor guy. Do you still want me to help take care of him?”

“Yes,” I answer without hesitation. Her nurturing side is good for him. Cassandra makes things easy, which is more than I can say about myself. “He’s a handful.”

“Pepé is the kind of dog who’ll always act like a puppy, you know?” she smiles, this time without showing teeth. “Walk to the park with me?”

“Sure.”

“Okay.”

I mean, why not?

The back of our hands touch when I give her the leash, and something happens in my stomach when her knuckles softly brush against mine. For a second, her touch lingers, and I just…

I really want to hold her hand.

It must be because I just saw her with Caleb. I really don’t like the guy. I like him even less because he’s still around her. I really doubt Caleb even sees her the same way I do. If Antony is right, she is just another conquest to him.

“You’re okay?” she asks, tone more serious now. “It’s just… you look a little tired.”

“Yes, I’m…” I trail off. Tired, as she just said. Sleepy. Exhausted. “Rough night.”

She kicks a pebble on the sidewalk before glancing at me again. Her voice is light, even as we start drifting to a heavier topic. “Do you want to talk about it?”

It’s what we usually do. Even if we don’t go too deeply into the reasons why our sleep schedules are a mess, Cassandra and I always listen to each other. But I don’t feel like talking about the hours pacing in my kitchen, wishing I could find it in me to convince Dad to sell the house.

Everything about it reminds me of my sister; her absence makes the rooms seem bigger somehow. When you have so much space but nowhere you really want to run to, it all feels the same as having no space at all. You still can’t move.

It’s a strange idea, how all my best memories in that house are forever tied to Lucia.

She made it fun. She made it feel a little more like home.

Now, I don’t even have sentimentality to hold onto.

I’m truly my parents’ child in the end. I avoid it if it hurts too much.

I run away if it starts feeling too wrong.

I don’t patch things up. If it stops serving me, I let it go.

“No, not really.” I shake my head, gently dismissing her. “Tell me about your day instead.”

“Okay.” Cassandra flicks her braid back, tugging at the leash to get Pepé to slow down. He’s too excited about going to the park. “Can you believe our Spanish teacher skipped three weeks of class back in September? We’re still trying to catch up, but she’s terrible at teaching.”

“You’re taking Spanish?” I blink, surprised and fighting off a big yawn. “I assumed you’d be fluent already.”

“I can speak it well if I need to,” she agrees. “My accent is a bit shitty, though. It’s just for extra credit.”

“Are they planning on changing the exams or not?” I ask, knowing it wouldn’t be fair to test the class on topics that weren’t taught. Cassandra might be fluent, but the other students certainly aren’t.

“I believe so, yes.” She grabs my elbow with her free hand, pulling me towards her. I tilt my head, assuming Cassandra wants to whisper something in my ear. “Here, so you start feeling better.”

Her kiss lands at the corner of my mouth. It’s short and sweet and reminds me of our conversation a couple of days ago. Hugs and kisses, right?

“Look at you, smiling at me,” Cassandra teases. “I’m telling you, it always works.”

“Mn.” I look away, feeling shy.

We walk a little more before she starts rambling again.

I listen patiently as she chatters my ears off, only interrupting a few times to make a particular comment about whatever story she is trying to tell me.

Zacharias seems to be struggling at school, always getting involved in some kind of gossip, and Cassandra wants Kayla to stop inviting him to their table during lunchtime.

“Kayla said I was being unfair, and it made me realize that I might come across as really pushy sometimes, just like she does to me, which is totally not how I mean to do.”

“You’re not pushy.” The sound of the steady claps of my flip-flops against the rocky ground turns muffled as we reach the sandy landscape. “You’re a good friend; that’s completely different.”

“Okay, but so is she.” She licks her bottom lip before glancing at me. “And if I wasn’t being pushy before, I’m certainly going to sound pushy now. Do you ever sleep, or are you like some kind of superhuman?”

“A super what?”

“Superhuman. With the incredible power of never sleeping.” Cassandra pokes my arm.

Her voice is playful, but I can hear the thinly veiled concern she’s trying to keep from me.

“I mean, you’re always up very early, and if I try to text you after midnight, you’re still awake too.

And you have to answer me now, because I’m not being pushy. I’m just being a very good friend.”

“Cassie.” I pause mid-yawn, my face breaking into a smile. “Nice try.”

“Come on, give me something to work with, or else I’ll spend the night worrying about you.”

It’s the last part of her sentence that convinces me to give in a little. Maybe she deserves to know what’s going on in my head just a little. I don’t want to keep her up. She has a lot of shit to do every single day at school and cooking for her father and brother.

“Okay, so. The thing is, I have to drive to the farm. And…” This is a bit of a lie.

Well, my boss wouldn’t mind if I showed up to work a little later.

I know he wants me to rest more. I just can’t bring myself to do it.

“No, that’s bullshit, actually. I think I just can’t sleep without any noise around. ”

“Do you want me to start sending Pepé back every night? He can keep you company after work.”

“Pepé is not who I’m missing. The house will be too quiet if he’s around, too.”

My statement is met with silence. I feel like I’ve said too much, and I really didn’t want to make a big deal out of this in the first place. Cassandra doesn’t need to be worrying about me or my awful sleep schedule. I’ll fix it up myself, in my own time.

But I see the questions popping in her mind one after the other, wondering about how I’m dealing with Lucia’s death. This is the worst part about grieving someone: no matter what reaction you get, it always feels uncalled for, even if it’s backed up by the best of intentions.

I force myself to smile. “I’m okay, I promise. Besides not sleeping, I’m doing really fine.”