Page 45 of As the Rain Falls (Sainte Madeleine #1)

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.” She readjusts the straps of her schoolbag over her shoulders, and I gesture, wanting to grab it and relieve her from carrying all the weight. “I’m sorry for never knowing what to say. I wish I could find the right words.”

And this , this is what I love about her the most.

There’s no pretense, not with Cassandra.

It’s just us.

“I don’t mind it. I like talking to you even if it doesn’t lead us anywhere,” I chuckle, but my chest is tightening with an emotion that I can’t address right now.

So, I shake it off and think about what she was talking about before instead.

“Now, will you please go back to entertaining me? What else is happening out there, besides incompetent Spanish teachers who can’t do their job and Zach telling on other people? ”

Cassandra smiles hesitantly, wiping away the bit of sweat from her forehead. The sunlight catches the edges of her cheekbones, making them glow when she tilts her head. She is beautiful, looking like this, just a bit wilder than usual.

“Okay.”

The main street is almost entirely empty, with only a few cars driving back as the sky turns into a bright shade of orange.

We take a smaller road to the park, hidden between one house and another.

It leads us inside the forest surrounding Port des Ondes, which is also a trail our neighbors like to use to go on walks.

She immediately launches into a story about Kayla and Alice’s never-ending feud.

Something about a dance competition this time around.

“Nothing important is happening, really. They’re like Tom and Jerry.”

“Which one is Tom out of the two?” I wonder.

“It’s Kayla, obviously. I think Alice is the only person who can get under her skin, you know?”

“Like Jerry.” I smile too, understanding the comparison. “Are they like… a thing?”

Cassandra’s eyes light up. “Oh, God. This is exactly what I wanted to say. I’ve been wanting to talk about it, but nobody ever brings it up. I feel like it’s so obvious!”

“Has she told you anything?” My arm brushes against hers. “Or have you even asked?”

“No, and not really. I tried once, but she totally evaded the question.”

“I mean, if you don’t have something to hide…” I trail off.

“Then, you don’t act like you do. Exactly my point,” she finishes off my sentence while nodding in agreement. “I do think there’s something, you know? Kayla gets all flushed when she talks about her. It’s very cute.”

“You’re making me miss high school with all this talking,” I admit. “I feel like I never got to enjoy being there all that much.”

We cut through the trees, following the end of the path.

The park has been abandoned for years now, leaving most of the structure to rust. The neighborhood council decided it was too dangerous to be used after too many kids got lost in the woods, so they built a new one closer to the beach.

I don’t go there very often because it’s too far.

Cassandra walks ahead, brushing her fingers over the chipped paint of the merry-go-round. She frowns a little before her expression eventually smoothes out.

“I used to come here all the time with my brother,” she explains.

I hum, “Before they shut it down? Lucia did too.”

“She did? I don’t remember ever seeing her here.” She glances over her shoulder, smirking. “We’re breaking the rules right now, aren’t we?”

My voice drops, “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

She flashes a bright grin in response, and I find myself staring at her without meaning to.

The top buttons of her t-shirt are coming undone, and the fabric slowly slides down her shoulders with every movement.

The right sleeve drops lower, flashing a small glimpse of the baby pink lace bra underneath the uniform.

My eyes follow the curve of Cassandra’s neck as she adjusts the fabric against her skin, completely unfazed. I hold out my hand towards her, giving her something to lean against as she steps into the merry-go-round.

“Hey, Beckett?”

“Mn?”

“I need to tell you about something important.”

My stomach flips, and I inhale a little sharply.

She starts, “Kayla and I were in the bathroom the other day, and I went in, well, to use the bathroom. There was this poster stuck behind the door, and I pulled it. There was writing on the bathroom door about Lucia. I just—I just thought you should know.”

The whole world tilts for a second.

“Lucia?” I echo, trying to understand what people would be writing about my sister in a bathroom stall.

“You don’t have to worry about it. I took care of everything,” she continues, her hands shifting to intertwine our fingers together and pull me a little closer. “Kayla had a permanent pen, so I covered it all up.”

“What…” I swallow hard. “What did they say about her?”

Cassandra’s face falls, and she glances at me sadly. “Oh, Becky. You really don’t want to know.”

“Tell me,” I insist, my voice breaking a little. “What did they say?”

She hesitates, then cups my face, forcing me to meet her eyes. “I really don’t think I should tell you. It was too cruel.”

Her eyes are the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. Bright green with little flickers of brown around the pupil. Her light eyebrows rise with surprise when I don’t pull her away and choose to lean into her touch instead, but I’m so tired of not having a place to go to for comfort.

My throat burns, emotions rising.

“Was she being bullied?”

“Hey, no,” Cassandra’s voice is quiet but steady. “No one would bully a girl like Lucia and get away with it.”

“How can you be so sure? You guys weren’t even friends, just neighbors.”

Don’t do this.

Don’t go all mean on her.

Ask her about the jewelry box.

Find out what really happened.

If she’s really your friend, she’s going to tell you the truth.

The corner of her lips twitches. “No offense, but I knew her well enough to know she was scary, Beckett. She made a teacher cry in middle school, remember?”

Cassandra doesn’t know it, but this is a story I don’t like to think about very often.

Lucia had these intense outbursts back when we were kids that led her to make poor decisions regarding conflicts.

She made me feel a little embarrassed about being her brother sometimes.

I could tell she was disliked by the way some of the teachers would speak to us with thinly veiled contempt at meetings.

Truthfully, her reputation wasn’t the greatest at all throughout middle school because she would constantly pick up fights.

I knew deep down she only meant to defend me and our friends, but my sister often took it too far.

Cutting people’s hair, spreading rumors, and isolating them from her friend group.

As soon as Lucia saw a potential threat, she’d return whatever offense they’d made against her tenfold.

She could be a heartless bully if you did her wrong, too.

“Yeah.” I pull back, and her expression softens, like she knows why I’m lashing out.

“Don’t cry,” Cassandra whispers. “Please, Beckett. Don’t cry.”

“I’m not, uh, I’m not crying,” I lie, my voice cracking. I’m not crying, though. I’m barely tearing up. “I’m just tired.”

Cassandra drops Pepe’s leash. I watch him walk away from us, feeling her thumb pressing against the side of my face to dry the stubborn tears that won’t stop falling. Her touch feels good. The pressure is soft against my skin; it doesn’t overwhelm me.

“You need to lie down for a second.” She pulls me towards the old merry-go-round. “Come sit with me.”

“Actually, maybe I should go home.”

“Please,” Cassandra begs, her voice barely above a whisper. “Just for a minute, Beckett. I promise, it won’t be long.”

Here’s the thing that people don’t know about my neighbor: Cassandra can be stubborn.

Between one text about Pepé and another about some stupid show, this friendship is blooming into the kind that slips right underneath my skin.

It’s a familiarity that I don’t find very often, but the thing is, we don’t even hang out all that much.

We shouldn’t be this close, but it feels like we are. And I know it sounds absolutely crazy, but sometimes I get the feeling that she just gets me a little too well, which is impossible, of course.

It must be because we’ve known each other since we were little, always orbiting around each other. I just—

I don’t get it.I don’t get why it bugs me so much that she’s going out with him . Deep down, it’s all I can think about. She shouldn’t be going out with Caleb. In fact, Cassandra shouldn’t be going out with anyone but…

“Close your eyes.” She pulls me down, guiding my head to her lap. “And take a deep breath.”

“What are you doing?” I ask. “Cass?”

“Please.”

I hesitate before closing my eyes. Her fingers thread gently into my hair, massaging my scalp.

“My mom used to do this to me all the time when I couldn’t sleep. I swear, it works,” she murmurs. “Don’t worry about Pepé, I can watch him. Just close your eyes for a bit and relax. You’re too tense.”

While she works on massaging my scalp, I steal a glance at her neck, noticing some kind of redness hidden near her collarbones.

Caleb did it. He marked her; I know he did.

Her long French braid does very little to conceal it, and the makeup she must have put on earlier is coming off now.

He marked her skin, which he wouldn’t do if he didn’t want others to know about them being together. The thought really pisses me off.

“You’re supposed to do as I say.” Cassandra sighs, pressing her palms over my eyes.

“Am I?”

I grab her wrist, meaning to pull her hands away, but I end up bringing her closer instead. Her arms lower to my chest, and for a moment, we lock eyes. She just stays there, looking down at me, and I get it. I get why Caleb Monteiro would be interested in her.