Page 41 of Best Friends for Never

“Always mean it too.” She turns her nose up, daring me to contradict her.

She sure does pack a lot of attitude for someone so tiny, and I love every minute of it. She’s always been this way—a little firecracker, ready to pop off when needed. I’m glad she hasn’t slowed down a bit, even in her old age. Well, at least not spiritually. Physically, it is a different story. She’s moving slower than she used to and has complained about her hips a few times. It’s making me wonder if she’s getting along out here by herself or struggling more than she lets on.

We wander down Borgen Avenue, passing by the shops that are usually full of customers at this time of day, but every window has some variation of aclosedsign.

Damn. I guess that answers my question about whether the whole town’s coming to this thing.

“Are you nervous?” Gran asks, probably feeling the unease that’s settled into my shoulders.

“About standing in front of the town I left ten years ago when I’m sure everyone here hates me? Nah. Not at all.”

“I already told you—”

“They don’t hate me, I know.” I sigh. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe they don’thateme, but they’re mad at me for leaving.”

“Well, you did stay away an awfully long time.”

She doesn’t say it to be mean. She’s simply stating the truth.

At first, I stayed gone because of my career, which took off just a few months after I left. I’ll be the first to admit I got lucky when I moved to LA. My roommate’s uncle was the producer onDeadman’s Drop, a whodunit teen drama that was supposed to be the next big thing. He got me a small role that, after only half a season, turned into something bigger thanks to social media and everyone falling in love with my character, a villain turned hero. I blew up practically overnight, and studios took notice. Offers started pouring in, and I booked movie after movie. Suddenly, I had money and could afford to fly Gran to me, so there was no point in coming back to Washington, especially not with how busy my schedule was. It was an excuse, my reason to stay away.

But over the years, my reason shifted to something else—I’d been awaytoolong, and coming home would be far too weird.

Would the town accept me after being gone so long? Would Parker? Would they treat me differently now that I had fame and money?

There were so many what-ifs that I did the easiest thing possible: I stayed gone.

Running from my past and the heartache here was easier than facing it.

Now, though, after being back for just a few short days, I wish I’d had time to come back more often. Not just for my gran, but to stay connected to the people who used to mean so much to me. Like the Rossis, whose café I used to go to daily. I had no clue they retired and sold the café to their daughter.

Or Astrid, who was like a parent to me growing up.

Like Parker, who was ... well, she was Parker.

I should have stayed in touch. I should have tried harder. I know that now.

The old theater comes into focus at the end of the street, and I gulp back my nerves at the size of the crowd gathered around.

“Holy shit.”

“Dammit, kid, how many times do I have to tell you to watch your language?”

I smile down at my companion. “Sorry, Gran.”

She winks. “It’s all right. It’s just a few people. Nothing to be worried about.”

“Says the person who doesn’t have to give a speech.”

“You have to give a speech?”

I knew she was teasing about that earlier.

“Parker says it isn’t a speech, but I am expected to say a few words.”

Her ghostly white eyebrows lift. “You talked to Parker this morning?”

I narrow my eyes at her. “Why do you seem pleased by that?”

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