Page 16 of The Heartbreak Blitz

My center skews a little, like the ground tilts right underneath my feet. A warmth takes hold of my lower belly as Cade’s eyes lock onto mine. For a moment, we just stand there, peering at each other. His brown eyes sincere, telling.

“You understand the dark moments.”

I swallow, an uneasiness creeps up my shoulders. His words affect me more than I want them to. “You don’t look like you spend much time in the dark, Cade Farmer.”

“You don’t know me, that’s all.”

“Maybe we should start a club.”

“Like a grieving club?”

“No, sounds too victim-ish. We should name it something cool, like The Death Club.”

He chuckles. “You’re weird.”

I shrug, smiling at my feet. I can’t help myself. Normal conversations aren’t something I have every day. “I know.”

“Wait. Did you just smile? You did!”

“I didn’t!” I protest, knowing I full well did and trying like hell not to let it happen again.

“You so did. It suits you.”

“Listen,” I say, walking around him. “This doesn’t mean we’re buddies now.”

“We are. We’re in a club together.”

“I don’t join clubs.”

“It was your idea!”

“Call it a moment of insanity,” I throw over my shoulder as I walk toward the jug.

“Charley, hey.” He reaches out and pulls on my arm. “I’m sorry about your mom.”

Okay. Now it’s time for the eyeroll. Sympathy is so tedious. “And you were doing so well, Cade Farmer.”

His face scrunches up, but I shake my head. My thoughts start to turn toward my mom, but I push them away. It’s strange to think I have this connection with someone I’ve never met, and worse, I’m usually mad at her for dying. For leaving me here with this life. For Dad constantly blaming me.

I wonder if he has similar thoughts about his best friend. If we were actually in a club, I might ask him, but this is about as far as my social activity will take me.

“Don’t worry about it,” I tell him. “Oh, you know what? Coach did say something about you, actually. He said he wishes you would stop talking to his new assistant.”

Cade’s eager eyes shadow over. “You made that up.”

I shrug, turning so I can grab the Gatorade jug and lug it back down to the locker room. Cade cuts in front of me. “I got it, Charley-not-Charlotte.”

“You don’t have to.”

“What are fellow group members for?”

“We’re not actually in a group.”

He turns, winking at me. “I get it. The first rule about The Death Club is that we don’t talk about The Death Club.”

7

Cade

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