Page 24 of The Book Swap
A shiver passes over my body, just at hearing those words. How can Cassie know that? How can she be so sure?
I swallow some wine, and nod for her to continue.
“He assured me it didn’t freak him out. He even kissed me over the second drink. Then at the end of the night, when I wouldn’t go home with him, he told me I was never going to meet someone by being so full-on and stomped off. Not heard from him since.”
“I’m so sorry, Cassie. You don’t deserve that.”
“Don’t be sorry,” she says, swallowing down some wine. “It’s why I do it. You really get to find out who the arseholes are. Unfortunately, so far, it’s been all of them, but there has to be someone out there who wants the same thing I do.”
“There will be,” I say. “And we’ll find them.”
She smiles across at me. The table next to us cheer as their long-awaited pizzas finally arrive. “I just wish it didn’t all have to be online. Why can’t I just meet someone in the flesh? Have a real connection with someone, rather than having to force it through words all the time.”
“It’ll happen,” I say. “It’s my worst fear, but if you want it to happen, it will.”
By the time I stumble home I want the exact opposite of what Cassie’s looking for. I walk straight to Callum’s door and knock on it.
“Who are you fucking?” Georgia asks when she calls midmorning as I’m pushing down the top of the French press and scanning jobs on Nextdoor—officially the most depressing neighborhood website on the internet.
The question seems to come from out of nowhere, but I know why she’s asking. She messaged me last night and I didn’t reply. I was with Callum, and in the cold light of day the thought fills me with shame. She wouldn’t approve. I know she wouldn’t.
“What? No one.”
My phone starts beeping as Georgia requests a video. I accept.
“Look me in the eyes and say that again.”
“No one,” I say, bringing my eyes as close to the camera as they’ll get.
“I knew it! No time to find a job, but enough time to shag the sorrow away.”
“I’m not shagging the sorrow away.”
“So you are shagging?”
“Are you jealous?”
She laughs, looking away from the camera and back again.
“Oh my God. You’re shagging too!” I point my finger at her through the screen.
“Let’s save this for dinner next week. In the meantime, I need an up-to-date account of your work prospects.”
I push so hard on the top of the French press that hot coffee starts spraying out over the edge, down the sideboard and onto my jeans.
“Fuck. Ouch! I’ll call you back.”
I drop the phone and reach up for the closest thing in sight to clear up the mess, spying a tea towel and whipping it toward me. I don’t realize I must have put the French press back on the tea towel until it comes flying toward me, shattering on the floor as it lands. I stare at the ground, watching as glass, coffee and grains spray out across it.
Why does everything feel so hard at the moment? I can’t even make coffee right. I put my head in my hands and let out a loud groan.
“You know, you wouldn’t cry over things like spilled coffee if you had a therapist to cry to about the real stuff,” Georgia shouts from the phone, where she was supposed to have hung up.
“Fine. Fucking book me one then,” I shout back, sticking my middle finger up at her even though she can’t see.
She doesn’t say bye, but I know she’s hung up. She’ll already be on the phone to one of her therapist friends, getting my first session booked in.
“Is that coffee coming, or what?” Callum shouts from his room. I completely forgot he was still here. I guess he’s taking the day off again, which means I have the perfect distraction from my own mind.