the mundane chitchat is out of the way, his shoulders lose some of the tension.
“How have you enjoyed your time since you’ve been back?” he asks.
What a loaded question—how could I enjoy myself given the reason I’m here? But the truth is, I have enjoyed working with Ford on his campaign and feeling like I make a difference.
“It was a difficult decision to come back, but things have gone better than I expected in that regard. At least no one has thrown what happened in my face. I’m not so na?ve as to think there aren’t whispers behind my back.” I stop abruptly when I realize that’s not entirely true and that I’m sitting across from the one person who did.
“I want to apologize again for my behavior. It was immature, and you weren’t deserving of it.” He sips at his wineglass.
“That’s true, but at least I understand better why you were like that. It makes more sense anyway.” I lift my wineglass to my lips and take a healthy mouthful of the dark red liquid. As childish as it is for Garrin to act like that because I crushed his ego a decade ago by going on a date with Asher, I understand how things in high school have a way of staying with you.
“Perhaps, but that was a long time ago. I should be over it.” He breaks eye contact with me and looks around the restaurant.
“Why were you still so upset with me?”
His hand clenches the stem of his wineglass a little tighter.
“Let’s just say it was the beginning of a bad time for me. That event was the catalyst for a lot of things that followed.”
I scrunch my forehead, not sure what he’s getting at. “What things?”
Garrin shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter, just a bunch of high school shit.” He sips his wine, and I follow suit. “Why did you decide to come home, anyway?”
“No special reason,” I lie. “I finished law school and I’m studying for the bar exam, so I figured why not.”
It’s like we’re playing a game of dodgeball with the questions—who can dodge the other longer.
Before he can dig any further, the waiter approaches to see if we’re ready to order. Garrin orders for me, which would usually irritate me, but I like what he chooses, so I decide not to make an issue of it this time. “I saw you had a steak at Cooperstone. I promise you’ll love this one much more.”
The fact he saw what I was eating with his back turned to me when I was at dinner with Everly shouldn’t make me warm and fuzzy, and the butterflies need to die a quick death in my belly. No matter how much I try to fight them away, they’re alive and fluttering, bringing a blush to my cheeks.
“What have you been up to since high school? Did you go away for college?” I ask him.
“I went to Columbia for four years, then my father wanted me back here to help with Stone Energy.” There’s a complete lack of excitement in his tone, which saddens me. A memory from high school reminds me how he conveyed one time that his life’s path had been set for him long before he was ever born. When classmates would talk about majors and what we wanted to be, Garrin never added to the conversation.
“Oh, that’s right, I remember you saying—” I stop when I realize my error. Jesus, I’m putting my foot in it tonight. My face heats.
“It’s okay, you can say his name. I was supposed to share an apartment with Carter.”
My mouth tips down into a frown. I’d heard about Carter’s suicide shortly after it happened, about a year after I left Cherry Creek, and the first thing I had thought of was Garrin and how he was holding up. The Classholes were a tight group, but everyone knew that Garrin and Carter had spent more time together than they spent with the other guys. They’d always walk the halls together, and they played lacrosse together. Anytime you saw one of them, the other was there too.
“I was really surprised when I heard what happened. He always seemed so happy. Like the life of the party. I couldn’t believe he took his own life.”
Garrin shrugs like he couldn’t care either way. What it must be like to hold in so much emotion. “I don’t know what the asshole was thinking.”
“He didn’t leave a note?” I ask.
“Nope.” He shakes his head.