Brett
Every time.
I read Cassie’s answer until the words stopped looking like words.
My truck was still parked across from the Delta house, the engine running and the heater blowing warm air against my legs, but I hadn’t moved since sending the question. I hadn’t even known exactly why I asked it. One minute I was sitting there staring at the porch where Cassie had disappeared, thinking about Derek kissing her, and the next I had typed the question that apparently should have been asked years ago.
Did you ever want me to kiss you?
I expected her to dodge it.
Maybe tell me it didn’t matter. Maybe ask why I cared.
Instead, she gave me two words.
Every time.
Every party where we ended up sitting together after everyone else disappeared. Every late-night study session when she fell as
