Part 25 (1/2)
”Listen, John.”
He turned. Casey was standing back a couple meters, hands in her pockets. He nodded.
”I'm really sorry for, you know, reading your diary,” she said. ”I shouldn't have done that. It was really rude.”
John shrugged. He didn't want to talk about it and had hoped that she had forgotten all about it.
”I mean it,” she pushed. ”I am sorry.”
John nodded.
”Don't you accept my apology?” she said.
”Yeah, yeah, I do.”
John was worried she'd keep at him, but she seemed satisfied with his reply.
”So, are you ready to meet my parents again?”
”Huh?”
”For Thanksgiving. You're coming for dinner.”
The holiday was only a few weeks away.
”Casey, I don't think-”
”John, you have to. They want to meet you again, especially since they never liked Jack so much.”
John sighed.
”No, I won't be able to go,” John said firmly.
”Where else will you be going? You don't have family.”
”The Rayburns will have me.”
”You're not even related!”
John's face flushed, but instead of yelling back, he said quietly, ”I don't want to go to your parents' house. I don't want to spend Thanksgiving with you and them.”
Casey's retort died in her mouth. ”You don't-?”
”No. I'm busy with pinball stuff.”
”Pinball stuff?”
”Yeah.”
”You have got to be kidding! You'd rather spend time with your friends on that stupid game than with me?”
”I thought you were a part of it?”
She rolled her eyes.
”If I wasn't I'd never see you. It's either the pinball machine or whatever you have locked in that box.”
”Hey!” John cried. He hadn't realized she knew about the box.
”It's like I'm not even a part of the important stuff in your life,” she said. ”It's like you keep everyone at arm's length.”
”That's not true!”
”Then what's in the box?”
John didn't answer.
”What?”
”It's not important,” he said. ”Casey, I'm new at this. I've never had... I've never been this close before.”
”You're not that close now!” she cried. Tears were falling down her face.
”I've never done this before!” John replied. ”I don't want to hurt you or make you angry or hide important things from you. But-”
”But you do.”
”Casey, don't be unfair to me!”
”Me unfair to you?” She forced a sharp laugh. ”I'm your girlfriend, remember? We're supposed to share things. Be together. For holidays and things.”
”Fine, I'll go to your parents' for Thanksgiving.”
”Too late. The offer is null and void!”
”Don't be petty!”
”Don't cave just because I cried. You should have wanted to come.” Her cheeks were bright red.
”Stop playing games!” John cried. ”Stop pressuring me! I have a say in what we do, don't I? If I don't want to go to Thanksgiving dinner, I shouldn't have to!” A point that had been inconsequential was now a bone of contention.
”You think-” She stopped herself. ”John. It doesn't matter. You don't have to come to Thanksgiving.”
She turned away, stepping over the stream into the open.