A / N

No, I haven't forgotten about this! The upside is that this is a longer chapter; but the downside is that this is a Darcy-oriented chapter. Still, it's utterly essential to the plot so I had to include it. You'll see.

Also, just out of plain curiosity—if you had to pick one, Callum or Miles?

x Noelle

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1 8

the one where Miles is awol

CHRISTMAS DAY ARRIVED in the blink of an eye.

It was a frigid morning, and I almost hadn't wanted to get out of bed. But Brielle had demanded that I show up for breakfast, with the promise of free food. The prospect of that was enough to make me brave the cold as I drove to Caffeinated.

I stepped into the diner and looked around. Caffeinated had been transformed into a veritable wonderland. Holly on the walls, tinsel along the counters, and even a vintage jukebox that played Christmas carols. Ever the businesswoman, Brielle had created a Christmas brunch special with her husband's help that seemed to only boost this diner's already high traffic.

A tiny smile finally stole across my lips as I looked around. A younger Darcy would've rushed to the jukebox to belt out of her favorite tunes. Instead, this older Darcy made a beeline for her usual booth. I passed Flo on the way, who had her tongue stuck down some guy's throat.

Rolling my eyes, I swatted at her to get out of my way. "Spreading festive cheer so early?"

Without even breaking away from the guy, Flo waved at me from over her shoulder and continued kissing him with gusto.

As I got to the corner booth, I found Brielle already in there, showing off her wedding photos to a group of riveted waiters. Carson, on the other hand, seemed content to merely lean against the back of her bench as he looked over her shoulder.

"And here was when we went skydiving," Brielle was saying as I came up. "My dear husband didn't dare to, but I conquered my fears like a brave warrior."

I snorted in mirth. Carson, who'd spotted me first, quirked a wry grin at me. I shot him a two-fingered salute by way of greeting, and settled down on the opposite bench. "Right," I deadpanned. "So that text I got at three a.m., where you were convinced that you were going to die and, I quote—thus bequeathed your dog and company to your husband, and your husband to me was...what? Brave warrior cries?"

Brielle merely sniffed. "So I get a little melodramatic at times."

"Excuse me," Carson cut in, his eyebrows raised. "You actually bequeathed me to Darcy?"

"I couldn't exactly bequeath you to Flo or, god forbid, my Mom!"

"No, I'm just wondering when I actually became one among many of your assets."

"Oh, darling," she said, smiling sweetly at him. "Your ass is quite worth a fortune, didn't you know?"

"Mm," chimed in one of the waitresses. "True that."

There were echoes of agreements, until Brielle turned an incredulous glare on them. "You've been staring at my husband's ass?"

"Better yet," Carson added mildly, "you've been staring at your boss's ass?"

The corner booth emptied within seconds. I managed to grab the red-faced waitress for long enough to order the Christmas special, before I turned my attention to the photos. Carson soon returned to the kitchen, leaving Brielle and me pouring over the albums. Flo soon joined us, and threw herself down beside me with a satisfied sigh.

Brielle nudged her. "Have you had breakfast?"

"Oh, yes," she murmured, with a pointed look across the diner. I followed her gaze, only to find the guy she'd been making out with. He now stood by the jukebox, milkshake in one hand and his letterman jacket in the other. A jolt of recognition shot through me when I saw the red and blue colors.

Riverton.

I remembered this because it was one among many things that Miles had no use for. When he'd dropped out of Riverton before the start of his final year, he'd tossed everything from his school years in a box. It contained all sorts of useless stuff that might as well have been labeled 'Things-I-No-Longer-Need'.

"Throw this out," he'd told me, when I held up his letterman jacket. He'd received it when he tried out for a frat at Riverton, and the seniors had given him a ridiculously oversized one. It would never fit, just like he would never fit into the very frat he'd tried out for. "It's just another thing of the past."

A horrible thought suddenly occurred to me. What if I were one of those things of Miles's past? After all, my current role in his life had yet to be determined. We were ex-lovers, one-time enemies, not quite friends; and he'd proven time and time again that he was not the Miles I knew.

What if I'm no longer what you need?

A shiver shot down my spine and I quickly pulled myself together. Miles had agreed to come to the New Year's Eve party, hadn't he? That had to mean he didn't exactly mind my company. I took a deep breath and refocused on the conversation at hand.

"—Good grief," Brielle was saying to Flo. They were still on the topic of Flo's new boy toy, and she was like a dog with a bone when it came to these things. "Can he even buy himself a drink?"

"He's twenty-one, if that's what you're oh-so-not-subtly asking," Flo returned before adding, with a dark chuckle, "Yesterday. I checked."

I stabbed at a slice of blueberry pancake. "That's like hooking up with my brother."

Flo smirked. "Who says I haven't?"

"Thanks for ruining my Christmas, Grinch."

"Where did you pick him up from?" Brielle pressed. "Remedial class?"

"Damn, married people are no fun at all! If you must know, it was at a frat party."

I immediately looked up from my plate. "A frat? Which one?"

"Don't know, don't care. All I care about is that Josh has a wonderfully innovative mind and knows twelve ways to use a Santa hat."

Brielle wrinkled her nose. "You need help."

"I live to scandalize."

"Well, you should be more careful, because if you—" Brielle trailed off as her gaze locked on something behind us. "What do they think they're doing?"

Flo and I both turned around to look. A group of customers had just entered the diner. All swagger and raucous laughter. Not all college kids behaved that way, of course, but these ones certainly did. Several of them settled down at the nearest table, but four of the guys went straight for Josh.

I stifled a groan. There goes my peaceful Christmas morning.

"Hey, Riverton!" one of the guys barked. The diner went silent as everyone turned to them with wide-eyed interest. Unfazed by the attention, or perhaps basking in it, he shot daggers at Josh and snarled, "What the fuck are you doing here? This place is Linville's."

I rolled my eyes. The rivalry between Riverton and Linville was notorious, but I always believed there'd be a ceasefire on special occasions like Christmas. Apparently not. The way this boy was acting, you'd half expect him to start pissing all over the place just to mark his territory.

I turned back to Brielle. "Should we do something?"

"I'll get Carson." She stepped out of the booth and headed to the kitchen.

As soon as she left, I frowned and nudged Flo. "Go get him," I said, pointing to Josh. "You're the one who brought him here."

"I'm not his mom," Flo scoffed and reached for my coffee. She took a lengthy sip, her eyes still fixed on the commotion as if she were watching tv. "Just hope his bits don't get smashed in. I still need him for later."

I opened my mouth to argue, but a sudden crash had me whirling around. The fight had erupted into chaos. I didn't know who started it, nor could I see amidst the blur of limbs as a full-out brawl ensued. Customers hastily moved out of the way as the shouts and scuffling escalated. I caught a glimpse of Josh caught in a headlock; the sharp clatter of trays and dishes crashing onto the ground as the guys shoved him against the table.

"Kids," I muttered in exasperation and strode towards them. As both a long-time Caverly resident and Linville alumni, I knew some of them by name. I stopped by the table and tapped one of the girls on her shoulder. Tyler, the one who clearly led the group, was her boyfriend. If anyone had a chance of stopping him, it would be her. "Come on, Denise, don't let your boyfriend make a scene. It's Christmas."

"Yes," came Flo's voice from behind me. "If my boy gets sent to the hospital, I'm billing all of you for medical charges."

Tyler stopped mid-fight, obviously having overheard Flo's words. He gave her a quick once-over, and turned back to Josh. "You're fucking that old lady?"

Flo gave an outraged gasp. "Old lady? Kid, I fuck better than any of your little barbies over here. Not that you would ever be able to appreciate a good fuck because—A, you obviously can't tell a good lay from a bad one; and B, I have excellent tastes that will never include you."

Tyler's eyes narrowed. "You're from Riverton too, aren't you?"

"Irrelevant," I interjected. "I was from Linville and none of this school rivalry even matters once you graduate. Come on, Tyler. Lay off the testosterone for a day, alright?"

"Not until her boy toy fucks right back off where he came from."

Josh snorted in derision. He scrubbed his sleeve across his bloody nose and shot the Linville kids a grin. "Not gonna happen. And Flo's right, by the way, she fucks better than any of your girlfriends." His smirk grew as he flicked a deliberate glance towards Denise. "I should know."

With an outraged roar, Tyler hurled a vicious punch at his face. Pandemonium broke out once again; the fight was back in full swing. I yanked Flo out of the way and turned to Denise. She was watching with almost manic interest as her boyfriend pummelled Josh. No wonder Tyler acted the way he did—she probably worshipped his already inflated ego at every turn.

"Denise, control your boyfriend!" I hissed at her.

"Sorry, Darce, but he started it—"

"And I'm finishing it," Brielle's icy voice cut through the commotion. "I am one number away from calling the cops."

It was as though a shot of frigid water had doused the fire. I spun round, only to see her standing by the edge of the fight with a phone in her hand. Her threat alone spread like a ripple through the diner—the other customers quietened, and the Linville kids who'd been cheering their friends on quickly looked away.

Carson broke through the throng and grabbed both Josh and Tyler by their collars to shove them apart. "You want to fight?" he snarled at them, in a low, angry voice I'd never heard from him. "Then get the fuck out of my diner."

Beside me, Flo sniggered. "Ooh, he said the F-word," she whispered in my ear. "He must be really pissed off."

Brielle stepped towards the boys. "You heard my husband. Get out."

Tyler glared at her. "You can't just—"

"We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone we choose, especially to kids like you who've destroyed furniture that will take months' worth of your pocket money to pay off. You're fortunate I'm not demanding compensation, or would you like to receive my lawyer's letter? Now," she added, meeting his gaze squarely. "Will you leave, or will my husband have to throw you out?"

Tyler shot her a murderous glare that could kill. But Carson stepped up beside her, and he seemed to think twice. With a final glare, he slouched off, and the rest of the Linville kids followed him.

The moment the doors swung shut, Brielle turned to the other diners with a gracious smile. "We're so sorry for the disturbance. Rest assured that no such similar incident will be repeated, and breakfast will be on the house today. Merry Christmas, everyone!"

A smattering of applause and murmurs of approval followed her speech. As the diners returned to their seats, Flo grabbed the nearest menu with a wide grin on her face. "Sweet!"

I shook my head at her and turned to Carson, who was checking Josh for any serious injuries. "How is he?" I asked.

"He'll be fine. Just a couple of bruises, a nosebleed—nothing he won't recover from."

Brielle returned with a bunch of napkins to hand to Josh. She flicked a dismissive glance at him, before saying, "You should get some rest. Maybe Flo will drive you back."

We all turned to Flo, only to find her rattling off a lengthy order to a waiter. I bit back a sigh and shrugged. "I'll do it." I'd felt pretty helpless throughout the whole fiasco, and I'd hated that I couldn't stop the fight despite being Linville alumni. I turned to Josh and asked, "It's not that far a drive, is it?"

"Just back to Riverton."

"That's fine, let's go." I gestured for him to follow me to my car, returning a wan smile as Carson and Brielle waved goodbye to me. Riverton's campus was a twenty-minute drive away and, with less traffic early in the morning, I hoped I could make it there and back in record time.

"Thanks for doing this, Darce," Josh said, as he climbed into the passenger's seat.

"Don't mention it. You shouldn't have antagonized them, though," I couldn't help but add.

He chuckled. "No, it was worth it. Did you see the look on their faces when I shit on their girlfriends? They're all assholes, anyway."

So are you, I thought. As we came to a halt at the traffic light, I shot a sideway glance at him. The tiny smirk that played on his lips unsettled me. I wondered if he was planning some sort of payback, but I decided against prying.

We spent the rest of the drive in uncomfortable silence. It was just as well, since I had no wish to speak with him any more than necessary. As we drove through Riverton's campus, a wave of déjà vu swept through me. How many times had I passed the streets of this campus—all just to see a certain brown-haired, grey-eyed man?

I shoved all thoughts of Miles aside as I turned to Josh. "Where do you live?"

He didn't take his eyes off his phone. "McFadden."

It wasn't long before we arrived at his dorm. A newer-looking building with loud music blasting from one of the rooms. He climbed out with a mumbled word of thanks and shut the door behind him.

I let out a tired breath and pulled out of the driveway. It was a one-way street, so I had to go around McFadden to get back on the main street. But as I passed Duke hall, I found myself slowing down. This was where some of Riverton's faculty stayed.

This was where Miles once lived.

Nostalgia flooded through me as I caught a glimpse of the stately old house. Did Miles still live here? Or was it only his Dad, who continued to remain as dean of Riverton until he found a replacement?

I hadn't laid eyes on this house in years, but nothing seemed to have changed. Not the faded white walls, the brass knocker on the front door or the shuttered windows. How many nights had Miles stood out here on this very porch, talking to me over the phone in hushed whispers, since his dad didn't approve of our relationship back then? How many mornings had he waited here for me to pick him up under the pretext of of studying at the business library?

We'd end up at the library anyway because he was a bookworm through and through. I'd study with him until I inevitably lost focus, but I'd never stopped focusing on him. I'd pluck his glasses off his face, put them on mine, then kiss him until he could no longer remember anything. Not numbers or facts, not the past or the present, or even his own name.

Nothing but me.

Before I could think twice, I grabbed my phone and unlocked it. Ever since Miles had returned, we hadn't texted much. Nothing beyond what was necessary. I dragged in a shaky breath, wrapped courage around my heart, and sent him a message.

Merry Christmas, Miles.

 There—I'd done it. Nothing special; nothing fancy. Nothing that would even suggest we were anything more than almost-friends. As I returned my phone to the dashboard, I felt it buzz in my hand and light with a new message.

Merry Christmas, Darcy.