Haze

His eyes scan the hallway, stopping to focus on Cassia's bedroom door. "She's fast asleep. She worked late again last night."

I can't say I'm surprised. Cassia Moncton is the essence of focus and drive. We went to high school together in Chicago and as soon as we graduated, her life propelled itself into a completely different direction than mine.

She moved to Manhattan to attend Columbia on a full scholarship. She landed a spot as an intern at Hughes Enterprises in their software development division. Her life is on a track she's planned since before we even met.

The only thing missing is the husband she always talked about when we were younger. Nigel seems to think he can fit the bill but I know better. Cassia's not shy when it comes to confiding in me and to her, Nigel, is a pleasant, temporary, distraction.

She's almost a full year younger than me, and at twenty, the last thing on her mind is a wedding. Unfortunately, it's the only thing on Nigel's mind which is why he's scheduled this discussion which I tried in vain to avoid by going for a run at the break of dawn.

"I couldn't sleep," he confesses as he takes a seat on the white sofa. "I've been too nervous."

I walk into the open kitchen. "I'm going to get a bottle of water. Do you want something?"

"I want you to go with me to pick out an engagement ring."

My hand stops in mid-air as I reach into the refrigerator. I suck a deep breath into my lungs. I don't want to be in the middle of this. I'd done that too many times in high school when Cassia couldn’t find the nerve to break up with the guys she was seeing. She'd call me crying, begging me to be the one to call her boyfriends to dump them.

I'd always refused, and each time instead of doing the decent thing, she'd fade slowly into the distance, ending things by ignoring the boys she once claimed to love.

A wedge was driven between us when I exploded one day, screaming at her for being heartless. We stopped talking for months after that, but then early one Tuesday morning when my life changed forever, she came over to my house and held me. She's still holding me in her own way and I'm still trying to guide her to consider the hearts of the men who fall in love with her too easily.

"You don’t want to buy a ring right now," I finally say as I twist open the lid of the water bottle. "Why not wait until her birthday?"

"That's months from now," he points out. "I can't wait that long."

I take a large gulp of the water, holding it in my mouth before I swallow, hopeful that the silence in the room will be enough to send him back into the comfort of Cassia's bed. It doesn't work.

"I need you to help me with this, Isla." He cradles his forehead in his palms. "If I don't ask her and things change, I'll regret it forever."

There it is. Doubt. He senses it.

It's not surprising given the fact that Cassia hasn't been spending nearly the same amount of time with him now as she was six months ago, when they first started dating. Back then, she couldn't shut up about how perfect Nigel was. Now, most of the time, his name is only mentioned when she tells me she's unsure of what she really wants.

One day he's in the way. The next, when she doesn't hear from him for hours, she's texting him non-stop and I'm avoiding coming home for fear of hearing the two of them having sex in her room. She doesn’t want him half of the time and she's all over him the other half. All I can do is keep enough distance from them both so I'm not dragged into the middle. I'm trying to do that now, but Nigel isn't making it easy.

"Will you go with me to look at rings? I've got time tomorrow."

"I'm busy tomorrow," I blurt back without considering my schedule. "Cassia's not big on surprises. Think about that before you do anything."

"Sure," he says sullenly. "I'll think about it."

I breathe a deep sigh of relief as I watch him stand up, walk down the hallway and disappear into the darkness of Cassia's room.

***

"What did you and Mr. Foster talk about after I left his office? It was about me, wasn't it?"

Yes, Cicely, of course it was. What else could the hottest man I've ever seen want to talk about other than you and your wardrobe which seems to take on a more unsightly tone by the day?

"The weather," I shoot back as I give her a once over. I had hoped that my eyes were playing sleepy tricks on me when I walked into the boutique twenty minutes ago but that is indeed a multicolored pantsuit paired with green ankle boots. She looks like a rainbow hit a tree full force.