White Space Season 1

you, but Sarah too. I had no clue that she liked me when I first asked her out.”
    “Idiot. Anyone could see she was ga-ga over you. She tried to hide it from me, but you’d have to be blind not to have seen it.”
    A gallon of sand slipped through their toes before another word was whispered. The words, barely there above the crash of the foam, were hers.
    “Why not me?” Cassidy couldn’t look at him. Maybe even hated him right there in this lonely moment of hers. “Why did you ask Sarah out instead of me?”
    Sand kept slipping between their toes as Jon pulled Cassidy’s fingers into his hand. “Because,” he said, “you seemed eternally disinterested. And while I like the unicorns and rainbows in your version of our history, the one I clearly remember had you playing Wicked Witch of the Jerk to me — especially as we grew older. Yeah, you were a ton of fun when we were in fifth grade, but I don’t remember too many times from middle school on up when you weren’t trying to make me feel like shit for having money.”
    Her cheeks burned against the ocean’s cool salty mist.
    Cassidy wanted to justify her behavior, say it was all sorta kinda his fault anyway. But the truth was, right there in the rotten core of that lonely moment, Cassidy couldn’t think of a single mean thing Jon had ever done just because he had money, or to somehow prove he was better than her.
    The salty air was a sudden rock in her throat. Cassidy swallowed hard, her eyes stinging. Another gallon of sand slipped between their toes, then, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t always nice to you, and you didn’t deserve that.” Then, because she couldn’t help it, Cassidy added, “You’ve gotta admit, though, you did run with a couple of total assholes.”
    “Most guys are assholes,” Jon said. “It’s impossible not to run with a couple.”
    “I’m really sorry,” Cassidy shook her head and kept her eyes toward the sea. “For real, I mean it.” Her last five words crashed together as though they were only three.
    Jon nodded toward the boardwalk. “That place any good?”
    “ That place” was a trendy, barely three year old, Swedish bakery and cafe called Powdered Sugar.
    Cassidy turned her gaze from ocean to boardwalk, then smiled at a memory. “Great waffles,” she said. “Everything else is meh. But if you like waffles, the place is fucking killer.”
    Jon turned toward the boardwalk. Cassidy followed and said, “The Breakfast Nook has killer waffles, too. Probably even better. When they’re good, they’re ‘explode in your mouth’ good. Problem is, Pauly started staring off into space — a lot. Half the time he needed a smoking iron to tell him the waffle’s done. The other half Pauly spends not paying attention to the same exact batter he’s made a million times before.” Cassidy made a face, remembering her last order of slightly sour waffles. “When they’re good, they’re the best on the island. But the last two times were awful. Powdered Sugar kicks ass every time.”
    They hit the boardwalk. Jon climbed to the other side, then held his hand out for Cassidy. She climbed across, then hopped to the wood landing with her eyes at Jon’s naked feet.
    Cassidy slipped her sandals on and said, “Are we okay?”
    Eyes sparkling, he said, “I’m okay if you’re okay.”
    Jon’s smile would have made her angry a week earlier. Now it made Cassidy tingle, right down to her sloppy center.
    The hostess seemed too young, like she should have been in class, rather than sorting menus from behind the counter of Powdered Sugar. She said, “Good morning, Mr. Conway,” then turned to Cassidy, smiling. “Miss.” She nodded to them both. “Will you be joining us for breakfast this morning?”
    Jon said, “Definitely.”
    The hostess glanced at Jon’s feet, then quickly away. She gestured toward the back of the restaurant and led them to a quiet table in the corner.
    “Thanks,” Jon said.
    The hostess nodded again, said, “Ryan will be right with you,” practically curtsied, then left.
    Cassidy laughed, then in a low voice said, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”
    Jon shrugged. “I’d say you get used to it, because you sort of do, but then again you never really can.”
    Cassidy said, “I guess you’d be an asshole if you could.”
    He grinned. “Yeah, I’ve known a few of them.”
    Cassidy laughed, “I bet,” then hurried to merge back into the conversation they were having when sand was