Our conversation died quickly when she realized I wasn’t giving up anything personal. I didn’t hear from her again until I moved back to Bellevue and she added me to a group chat with a bunch of people from high school. Shortly after that, she created an event page for a mini reunion.

  “It’s going to be a blast to see everyone again,” Nelle says. “I’m not sure if you saw, but I just posted in the group that I finally confirmed booking for the events room at Connelly’s Pub.”

  “Oh, I missed that.” I don’t add that it’s likely because I avoid the page in case I accidentally click ‘yes’ on the RSVP. The only reason I had the page open tonight was because I had made up my mind I’d finally decline the invitation. This would be the perfect opportunity to tell Nelle in person, but seeing her unexpectedly and having her sitting across from me looking like she just stepped off a runway when I was wearing pajamas until less than an hour ago…I suddenly feel like an insecure teenager again. And that insecure teenager, the one who was briefly friends with Nelle, always felt like she had something to prove.

  So, while I should tell her I have no intention of going, what comes out instead is, “I’m actually still undecided, which is why I haven’t RSVP’d. The reunion is right around my birthday, and my friends have been hush-hush about what they have planned and when.”

  “Well, just tell them the night of November seventeenth is out for whatever they’re planning,” she says. “If they haven’t given you a set date yet, they must not have anything solid planned.” She pauses, but before I can say anything, she barrels on. “What friends are you talking about? The ones you hung out with in high school before your accident? I’ve seen some of your pictures with them on Facebook since you’ve been back in town. Why don’t you invite them to the reunion? The more the merrier. Ooh, and that one who was your best friend, the kinda snooty one who left Bellevue Secondary to attend private school? She’s dating your brother now, isn’t she? You should invite him too; maybe that would help convince Leland Levesque to come. Would you believe I actually saw him tonight just before I came in here? I never come to the Village, it’s so not my scene, but a friend said we just had to check out the new boutique that opened here a few weeks ago, and then she stood me up! Seeing Leland made it worth it, though.”

  My god. I blink hard several times, trying to process everything Nelle just said. I feel like getting up and walking away; she clearly doesn’t need me here for this one-sided conversation.

  My main reason for not wanting to attend the mini reunion was embarrassment over the unexpected twists my life has taken. Now, if anything, listening to Nelle and realizing she hasn’t changed much since high school gives me another reason not to attend. I had legitimate reasons for distancing myself from her and her friends back in the day, and I don’t need to spend a night watching them get drunk and reminisce about the ‘good old days’. Those weren’t good days for me. With a few exceptions, they’re days I’d rather stuff in a locked box in the back of my mind.

  Nelle doesn’t seem aware of the fact I haven’t responded to her long-winded monologue. She’s glancing around the café, her eyes lingering on various people and bits of the autumnal decor. When her gaze returns to mine, there’s something there that makes my stomach sink once more. “You had a crush on Leland way back when, didn’t you? You never said anything, at least not to me, but it was so obvious.”

  I’m sure her eye roll is meant to be playful. If any of my actual friends did that, I’d laugh and we’d throw some good-natured jabs back and forth. But Nelle’s sarcastic eye roll paired with a smirk—as if a teenage crush on a guy who she clearly thinks would never have looked at me twice—makes my blood boil.

  “I always had this feeling he would peak in high school, you know?” she continues. “But man, he’s so freakin’ hot! I nearly had to pick my jaw up off the floor when I saw him. I only had a second to talk to him, so I didn’t get to ask if he’s single or not.”

  In that moment, something possesses me and compels me to say, “Oh, he’s not.”

  One of Nelle’s perfectly-sculpted eyebrows arches. “How do you know?”

  “Because we’re dating.” Oh. My. God. What did I just do?

  I have a few all-too-short seconds to enjoy the shock on Nelle’s face. Her surprise quickly morphs to something akin to pity, which makes my blood boil once more. Amusement slips over her face, but it’s the mean kind. The ‘poor Stella, she’s desperate and delusional’ kind. I saw it countless times in high school, directed at anyone Nelle considered beneath her. She opens her mouth to speak, but her lips fall shut as her gaze shifts past me. Her eyes brighten with an evil sort of glee. “Well. Speak of the devil.”

  My heart kicks into overdrive even before I turn to follow Nelle’s line of sight. So few things have gone my way lately, why should this be any different? Why wouldn’t Leland Levesque be standing in the entrance of Cravings, talking to Marisol?

  When Marisol walks away, Leland glances around the café. The double take he does when he sees me would be comical if I didn’t feel as if I was about to go into cardiac arrest. The way he smiles at me, soft and sweet and familiar, doesn’t help. Mouth dry and heart in my throat, I murmur a garbled ‘Be right back’ to Nelle, and bolt in Leland’s direction.

  “Running into you twice after not seeing you for years?” he says when I’m within ear shot. “This appears to be my lucky night.”

  “You may be singing a different tune in a minute,” I tell him.

  “Is everything okay? You look a little…flushed.”

  That’s likely his nice way of saying I’m beet red and stress sweating. I shoot a quick look over my shoulder and, as I do, Nelle rises from her seat, eyes narrowed on us. I whirl back to face Leland, gripping the sleeve of his lightweight jacket and leaning in close. His brows lift in a mixture of surprise and confusion, but he doesn’t seem put off by my proximity. I can work with that.

  “I need you to do me the world’s biggest favor and play along right now,” I whisper. “I’ll owe you so big, and I promise to explain later.”

  He’s about to respond when Nelle approaches. Her gaze immediately homes in on where I’m still clutching Leland’s sleeve.

  “Look at you two lovebirds,” she says.

  Leland’s eyes remain locked on mine for a couple of beats, his brows pinched slightly. His attention shifts to Nelle and he says, “Stella and I—”

  “Aren’t exactly lovebirds,” I say quickly, cutting him off. “We’ve only just started dating.”

  The silence that follows seems to envelope the entire room. I can no longer hear the clinking of dishware or the laughter from the group of crafters. What was I thinking? This always works so well for people in books and movies. Leland would never purposely throw me under the bus, but if he doesn’t catch on and play along, Nelle’s never going to let this go. She clearly already sees me as the same loser she thought I was in high school, and now she’ll think I’m even more pathetic. I’ll have to spend the rest of my days hiding out in Evie’s condo and—

  “Right,” Leland says, covering my hand that’s now turned into a claw on his arm. With that one word, my senses return, and I start breathing again. “Still new, but going strong. When I returned to town and found out Stella was back too, it seemed like kismet. I missed my chance to ask her out in high school, so there was no way I was going to pass up the opportunity again.”

  Oh, he’s good. Not only is he playing along, he’s really selling it. Call me petty, but the way Nelle’s eyebrows have disappeared under her bangs makes me want to do a victory dance around Cravings.

  Nelle must realize her mouth is hanging open slightly because she snaps it shut and forces a smile. “Well, how nice for you two. Now you absolutely have to come to the reunion. I’m sure I’m not the only one who would love to hear more about how you two got together.” She checks the fancy rose gold smartwatch on her wrist, then rearranges her purse strap on her shoulder. “I have to run, but I’ll see you both soon. No excuses!”

  With a little finger wave, Nelle bustles past us. Leland and I remain where we are, neither of us moving or speaking. Finally, I release my death grip on his arm and slip my hand from under his. “Can I buy you a drink?”

  Leland’s smile spreads slowly until it overtakes his whole face, lighting his eyes and making them crinkle in the corners. “I’ll get the drinks. Consider it a thank-you for the best entertainment I’ve had in a long time.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Leland places our drinks on the table—another hot chocolate for me and a cappuccino for him—and then holds up a finger for me to wait while he returns to the front counter.

  In his absence, I ponder what to tell him. There’s no explanation I can think of that doesn’t make me seem pitiful and somewhat desperate. Okay, a lot desperate. I suppose I could laugh the whole thing off and say it was a joke meant to get a rise out of Nelle…

  Leland slides into the seat across from me and sets a plate of chocolate chip cookies in the middle of the table. I stare at them as memories flood my mind. When I finally look at Leland, he’s smiling gently.

  “No slushies?” I say faintly.

  His expression is part pleased, part relieved, like he’s glad I got the inside joke. As if I could ever forget.

  “No slushies and no jukebox,” he says. “These cookies are a million times better than anything they served in the high school caf, though.”

  During my second semester of grade eleven, I had a free period after lunch. Before my accident, I always spent free periods in the library, but it began to feel too isolated. The quiet and solitude gave me too much time to think, and my thoughts weren’t very pleasant in those days. And so, I started hanging out in the cafeteria. There were always other students around, plus there was this amazing old jukebox that people were always feeding quarters into and choosing songs. Another bonus was the fact I could get something to eat there—it was closed to meals by that time of day, but they had baked goods, fruit, and drink machines available all day—and food was a source of comfort for me at that time.

  Leland saw me sitting alone one day when he was passing through with some of his basketball teammates. Since he was my brother’s best friend, we’d known each other for a few years, although we’d never had more than brief conversations, and always with Wesley around. When Leland smiled and nodded in my direction, one of his friends elbowed him and laughed as he muttered something under his breath. I missed most of it, but caught the ‘loser fat girl who used to be pretty’ part. My cheeks had flamed with anger and embarrassment.

  A few minutes later, Leland appeared at my table and plopped down on the bench across from me, setting a plate of cafeteria cookies between us. When he asked if I wanted to share, I thought it was a trap of some sort; I pictured his friends lurking nearby, ready to pop out and laugh at me. Leland’s eyes were friendly and open, though, and there was something about him that made me certain I could trust him.

  After that, Leland appeared at my table at least a couple times a week, and always with something from the cafeteria—baked goods, a plate of nachos smothered in bright orange cheese, a pair of slushies from one of the machines. Sometimes we would sit in silence, but most of the time we talked. It was always about surface things—class assignments, the newest episode of the show we were both watching, or what our plans were for the weekend. He would ask me what my favorite songs were and then see if the jukebox had them.

  Leland nudges the plate of cookies toward me now, drawing me back to the present. I take one, resisting the urge to stuff it in my mouth. I expect Leland will start firing questions at any moment.

  “How do you like being back in Bellevue?” he asks. “And being back at the same time as Wes? I bet your parents are ecstatic.”

  “You have no idea,” I say with a laugh. “They wanted me to stay with them when I came back, but Evie offered me the spare room in her condo. We figured it was our last chance to finally live out our teenage dreams of being roommates. It wasn’t long before my parents got their wish of a McGrath child returning to the house, though.”

  Leland smiles around a bite of cookie. “And is living with Evie everything you two always dreamed it would be?”

  There was a point in our teen years when at least half of Evie’s and my conversations started with ‘when we live together’. We imagined we’d stay up late every night, host an endless stream of parties, and cook fancy meals together. In reality, we’ve spent a lot of nights in front of the TV drinking wine and eating take-out; Evie heads to bed around ten most nights so she can be up early; and the only people we’ve had over are Hollie, Louisa, and Wesley. But there’s been a lot of laughing until we cry, crying until we laugh, conversations that range from deep and serious to silly and ridiculous. I’ve felt more at home in the three months I’ve lived with Evie than I did in the five years of my marriage.

  “It’s even better than I imagined,” I tell him. “What about you? What brought you back to town? Last I heard, you were living the jet-setting life, working for some big consulting company?”

  One side of Leland’s mouth curves. “Have you kept tabs on me, Stella McGrath?”

  “Wesley has mentioned you a few times over the years,” I say breezily. Then, feeling emboldened by how easy Leland is to talk to, I add, “You’re a hard one to keep tabs on otherwise. I’ve never been able to find you on Facebook.” Every once in a while when I’m feeling nostalgic—or just plain curious—I’ll do a quick search for Leland on social media. The most I’ve ever found is a private Instagram account, but I never had the courage to send him a follow request.

  “I actually joined a month or two ago after avoiding it for years. My sister wanted help with her store’s social media presence, and I told her I’d set stuff up for her, which required me to finally cave and start a profile. I’ll send you a friend request.” He says that last part with a twinkle in his eyes.

  “Try not to be too jealous of my exciting life when you add me. Anyway, back to your reason for returning to our fair city.”

  “Right. As much as I loved my job and all the traveling, I was starting to get…not tired of it, but ready for a change, I guess. I can say I’ve been to all these places around the world, but I hardly ever saw more than the inside of hotel rooms, conference rooms, or whatever scenery was zooming by the window on my way to meetings.

  “It was also a lonely way of life; I had just started toying with the idea of finding a way to put down roots when my sister asked for help in expanding her business. She has a successful store in Toronto, and she wanted to expand with a shop here in the Village. I offered to invest, put my business degree to use in a completely different way, and now we’re in business together.”

  “That’s amazing.” As I say the words, something in my mind clicks. “Wait, your sister isn’t Felicity by any chance?”

  “That’s her. You know her?”

  “We met when I lived in Toronto. And now I’m wondering if I knew her in high school and don’t remember. I never knew her last name, but I did always think she looked familiar…”

  “You might have known her,” Leland says. “She mostly hung out with the band kids, though.”

  Wow. It really is a bizarrely small world.

  “I’m not sure whether you meant to or not, but you avoided my question earlier about how it feels being back in Bellevue,” Leland says.

  “Ah, you noticed that, did you?”

  “I’ve been told I’m very observant.”

  Laughing lightly, I select another cookie from the plate to buy myself time. “Being back in Bellevue has been weird in a lot of ways. I still have a bunch of things to figure out, but having my friends and now my brother in my corner has made the transition easier.”

  He leans forward, planting his elbows on the table and pointing to himself with both hands. “And you’re dating an amazing guy who also happens to have recently returned to town.”

  An embarrassed little squeak escapes me. I slap a hand over my face, then prop my chin on my fist. “Yeah, about that…”

  When I don’t continue right away, Leland raises his eyebrows expectantly. “Mmhmm, go on. As your boyfriend, I feel I deserve an explanation.”

  I can’t help the laughter that spills out of me at his playful tone. “You got an invitation to the reunion Nelle mentioned, right?”

  “I did. Another reason I regret joining Facebook, if I’m honest. I haven’t responded yet, as you heard.”

  I wait a few beats, but he doesn’t offer further explanation. “I don’t particularly want to go. I was friends with that group for less than a year, and I wasn’t even really friends with most of them. We were all just together a lot.”

  “Same here,” Leland says. “So why not just decline and get it over with?”

  I lift one shoulder. “I wish I knew. I guess it’s partly curiosity; it’d be a good chance to see the few people I’d actually like to see again.”

  “I’m guessing Nelle isn’t one of them?”

  I scoff. “Nope. There was a time when I thought we were friends or at least could be, but she had this weird obsession with my past. She was always asking about my old life and my old friends—who weren’t my old friends, they just weren’t around as much. She seemed to enjoy bringing me down and then keeping me down, making it seem like I could confide in her and depend on her. I was desperately trying to stay afloat at the time and didn’t see how gross and toxic her behavior was.”

  Leland nods slowly. “You said you were friends with them for less than a year? What about your last year of school?”

  I consider giving him the short and easy answer, but we’ve come this far. “Do you remember the last time we saw each other in high school?”

  He appears taken aback by the seemingly random question. He searches my face as if the answer is written there. Finally, he says, “Yeah. I do.”