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She stared at the ceiling. The speakers. The pictures. The freaking rug. Anything but HIM. Why was he there? 

This is his party, idiot, She berated herself, screaming silently in her brain.

“Cass, where are you going to college?” an older man from the church asked her. Her brain lagged for a minute, then caught up with the speed of everyone else’s.

“KC,” she said quietly. The man that had asked the question lit up. Cass knew what comment was coming next and she wanted to sink into the fabric of the couch cushions. HE was also going to KC, too but that wasn’t why she was going there. Cass had been accepted before she even developed a crush on HIM.

“Bear’s going there, too,” the man–his name was Stanford–said happily, “You guys could carpool!”

“No!” both Cass and Bear said at the same time, then looked at each other with the same face. Slight offence. 

Cass knew her reason for not wanting to drive. Her powder pink ’57 bel air, Bessie was the best car on earth and it was going to Kansas with her, no arguments. but why didn’t Bear?

She raised an eyebrow at him incredulously, her face full of a vicious question. Bear knew why Cass didn’t want to drive with him; because it would suffocate her due to the tension. Since he knew she liked him. It had happened at the Super bowl party. Having a minor lapse in judgement, Cass had pulled him over and talked to him, her voice a little hushed and stumbling against each word.

He had turned her down. “Dating in high school is meaningless, Cassandra.” The use of her full name was like a punch to her gut. Only her good friends called her Cass or Cassie. Maybe a person that had known her for a long time, like Stanford. Bear had started to call her by her nickname, but Cass had to go and ruin it.

“I know Cassandra,” Cass winced, “loves her car and I don’t. It’s old and smells.”

Her eyebrow raised higher and Cass turned to face Bear. A phrase that her best friend coined for when people dissed her car echoed through her head. Touch Bessie and things will get messy. They would get messy here, but it was Bear’s own party, and Cass would not make a scene at a grad party.

The food was served soon, and Cass was able to escape the awkward conversation. If Cass could stop talking by shoving her face with food, she would

 

Bear stared back at Cass as she filled up her plate with brisket. He closed his eyes and groaned in his head. Why did I diss her car? She loves that thing! That’s the only thing she ever talked about. Bear actually loved it. He thought it was adorable that she named it Bessie. Bessie of all things!

She finished her food and hugged his mom, saying she had a date with the library and started to leave. Bear disengaged himself from the conversation, dropping his plate onto an end table and following her out the door, to Bessie.

She started the car and Bear launched into the passenger side as quickly as he could. Cass raised an eyebrow.

“Mess with Bessie and things will get messy,” she said plainly. She should’ve had a tattoo of it already, with a little cartoon of Bessie next to it.

“I didn’t mean to make fun of your car,” Bear tried to reconcile, “it was just too awkward in there. I didn’t know you were going to KC.”

“Yeah,” she said, staring at the large steering wheel.

“I’m glad you are,” Bear said quietly, “I really like you. I didn’t notice it before you…um…told me, but now.… Now I like you.”

Cass looked up at Bear, fingering her necklace. It was a new purchase, dainty and gold. The charm was a bit confusing, with two hearts that were connected but forming each other. Cass’s crazy eyes–heterochromic, one blue and one green–glared at him.

“Too little too late, Bear. Now, get out of my car or things will. get. messy.”