“I brought your favorite!” She holds up a plastic Subway sandwich bag. “Turkey club, extra mustard.”
“That’s my mother’s favorite, not mine,” I say, more to myself. My mother would assume her favorite sandwich is by default my favorite. I don’t even like subs; there’s too much bread.
“Oh.” Becca’s arm falls to her side, her high spirits deflated.
Becca did go to the effort, though. But why is the question.
I force a polite smile. “Did you want to come in?”
She nods vigorously.
I lead her into the kitchen, watching her take in every square inch of my humble abode with acute interest. When she catches me staring at her, she smiles brightly. “It’s so cute!”
“Thanks.” I’d like to think she’s being genuine. She was never evil like Penelope, but she was an enabler all the same, sitting back, saying nothing. “Have a seat.”
I feel her gaze on me as I pour us each a glass of ice water.
“You look amazing.”
I snort, peering down at my ensemble—a baggy blue-and-white charity run T-shirt and a ratty old pair of sweatpants that I turned into shorts by cutting off the legs.
“You’re super pretty now. I mean, you always were, but you look good with long hair. And you’re crazy fit. Not like me.” She laughs in a self-mocking way, shifting in her chair at my kitchen table. “I wish I could still eat five thousand calories and not gain weight, like back in high school.”
I can’t help but do another fleeting scan of Becca. She’s still cute, her hair that same warm honey-blond shade but cut to her shoulders and layered; her broad smile is still her best feature. But she has filled out some, her once-skinny cheerleader form morphing into something more akin to her mother’s pear-shaped figure—smaller on top and heavier on the bottom.
“My mom said you’re going to be teaching at Polson. I’m a teacher there too!” She tries for another round of excessive enthusiasm that reminds me of her younger version, bouncing around on the football field. “It’s my second year. I had fifth grade last year but I’m taking seventh grade this year. Anyway, we’re going to be coworkers, so I thought it’d be a great idea to come by and say hello. I know when I started last year, it was scary. I didn’t know anyone or anything, and a lot of the teachers there have one foot in retirement. They don’t put any more effort in than they have to, so you won’t get much help from them.” She’s rambling. She’s nervous, I realize.
“That’s nice of you.” I set the glass of water in front of her.
Becca sighs heavily. “I was a jerk to you in high school. I’m sorry. I don’t have an excuse for it—you never did anything to me.”
“I never did anything to Penelope either.” It slips out before I can stop myself.
“Except be Dottie’s daughter. And date Shane for that summer.” She raises her hands in a sign of surrender when she sees my scowl. “Penelope has always been crazy jealous when it comes to him. She went psychotic on me once when Shane gave me a hug!”
“Really? But you guys are best friends.” As much as I don’t care what happened, I find myself desperate to mine any valuable Shane-related information that I can.
“We were. Until our first year of college, when everyone was back in town for Thanksgiving. She accused me of trying to steal Shane from her, even though he’d already broken up with her by that point.” Becca shrugs. “What can I say, she showed her true colors. Of course, she blamed her pregnancy hormones, but she hasn’t been pregnant for a long time and she’s still a giant bitch.”
It takes a moment for her words to register. “Wait, Shane dumped his pregnant girlfriend?” My faces screw up. What kind of asshole does that, even if it is Penelope?
“He didn’t know she was pregnant when they broke up,” Becca defends. “And she was cheating on him big time.”
My jaw drops. Penelope cheated on Shane? She had him all to herself and she threw that away for another guy?
Becca looks at me curiously. “Wait, you didn’t know about all this already?”
“I left this place behind when college started and didn’t look back.” The only person who could have relayed anything was my mother, and if the story doesn’t involve her as the main character, she tunes out instantly.
Becca gives me a sympathetic smile. She must have an idea what I was running from, what I’ve gone through with my mother. Everyone knows who Dottie Reed is, but no one knows better than Margaret Ann. “There are still rumors floating around that Cody’s not Shane’s biological son.” She waggles her eyebrows suggestively. “Anyway, I cut ties with Penelope after that fiasco. I’ll say hi to be polite if I see her around, but I have no time for mean girls in my life. Especially now that I’m dealing with the pint-sized versions of them. That’s draining enough. It was a bit awkward, though, having Cody in my class.”