Page 70 of Saving Graces
“Why?” Kinsey wasn’t sure if she wanted to murder Lane or lock them both in a small room together until they came to their senses.
“Well,” Cassidy said, her voice cracking, “I told them I loved them.”
Kinsey got out of bed and went over and opened up the curtains, the gray early morning light spilling in. She came back and sat on the other side of the bed and looked at Cassidy. Cassidy’s eyes were swollen and her shoulders drew tightly inwards as though to protect her heart. She looked very small.
“Cass,” Kinsey said. “Tell me everything.”
“I will,” Cassidy said. “But right now I just really need to be away from here, you know?” Kinsey nodded. “I told Savannah last night and she’s spoken with the pilot. If we leave in an hour we can fly back home this morning.”
Kinsey blinked.
“Oh shit,” she said, thinking of Rosalie, of everything they hadn’t gotten to say or do. It felt too fast, too final, too unresolved. Cassidy brushed back another falling tear and Kinsey looked at her bandmate and friend. “Are you sure?” she tried. “You don’t want to stay and try to work it out?”
“Kinsey,” Cassidy said, her voice flat, “I told Lane I loved them. And they didn’t say it back. And then they told me they wanted a break. Believe me when I say I do not want to be here right now. They’re going to get their fucking break, okay?”
“Okay,” Kinsey said. “Yeah. You’re right. I’m going to get dressed and packed right now.”
“I’m sorry it’s a rush,” Cassidy said. “I just have to get out of here.”
“I know.” Kinsey looked at her friend, her blue eyes dim with sadness, her pretty face pale and the dark circles under her eyes making clear the kind of night she’d just had. Kinsey ached for her. “It’s going to be okay, Cassie.”
“Is it?” Cassidy’s composure cracked again, her chin wobbling as she got to her feet. “I’m not so sure.”
She gave Kinsey the saddest smile she’d ever seen, then she closed the door behind her.
Kinsey squeezed her eyes closed, trying to catch up with the sudden whirlwind of change. She got out of bed, almost on automatic pilot and quickly showered and dressed. She packed her suitcase then ran down to the band room and packed everything she’d left down there too. She paused for a moment, soaking up the feeling of the space, now holding not just what Beware the Fury had left behind in the air, but Kinsey and Cassidy too, whatever their own album would become. A small shiver went down her spine.
Back upstairs she checked her phone. There were less than fifteen minutes left before she needed to be downstairs. She headed to the door, about to go and wake Rosalie. Then she paused. She remembered the day before, the feelings welling up inside her, telling Rosalie she’d always want more of her, Rosalie’s troubled eyes and quiet mouth, never telling Kinsey she’d want her back the same way. Always conflicted, always holding back. What more of an answer could Kinsey ask for?
She lifted her head, then went over, pulled open her door, and marched all the way down the corridor.
She knocked.
“Hey,” came the soft voice from inside. Kinsey walked in and found Lane, sitting in their pajamas on the window seat, looking seasick.
“Hey,” Kinsey said, taking a seat opposite them. “Are you okay?” she asked finally.
Lane rolled their eyes and squinted out the window. Their jaw was clenched.
“You’re right, stupid question.” Kinsey studied their face for a while. Lane’s shoulders were hunched, their eyes haunted. “Here’s another question: are you out of your damn mind?”
Lane’s head jerked up at that.
“You don’t know anything,” they said, their voice low.
“I know she fucking loves you,” Kinsey said gently. “I know she’s fucking amazing-”
“Do me a favor, Kinsey?” Lane’s voice went tight. “Try not to fuck my girlfriend the second we go on a break, okay?”
Kinsey’s eyes went wide. She was about to defend herself, their friendship, her intentions, and then she thought of Cassidy, crying in her arms this morning.
“Do yourself a favour,” she said instead, getting to her feet, “and get your shit together so she doesn’t have to go and fuck anyone other than you. If you actually care about her, you’d tell her that. You’d stop her leaving. You wouldn’t let her go thinking she doesn’t mean that much to you and you’d stop running away from your feelings like some scared little kid.”
Kinsey paused at the door and then flinched. Lane’s skin was pale and clammy in the early morning light. They didn’t move a muscle.
“I’m sorry-” Kinsey started, belatedly realizing that perhaps some feelings had maybe leaked out where they didn’t quite belong.
“Just leave me alone!” Lane snapped, their voice cracking.
