03

STRING LIGHTS HANG FROM the ceiling of the conference room, shaped like vibrant orbs. Even though it's summer in Godfrey and an inferno out there, their shimmering glow reminds me of Christmas. It brings me to a different time, when it was cold and I was a kid on the streets who thought I was so much older than I was. The nostalgia is like a bitter tonic on my tongue.

I swallow it down, hoping to wash it away.

My black dress sticks to my thighs, which rub together as I make my way through the conference room behind Nora. I hated the cold back then, but right now, I wish they'd turn the damn AC on. The event hasn't started yet; it's just us organizers here now, getting set up, but Godfrey's upper echelon won't like the hot mugginess in here.

I'll give it to them—it's not the typical "ball" I'd imagined. We're at the top of a high-rise hotel, first of all, with open access to the balconies. Godfrey's skyline through the window shines silver in the glow of the night sky, making us feel high above the world. And instead of round tables everywhere and only one stage, there are several stages set up around the giant room, and buffet tables throughout. The type of event that people are going to have to use their legs for. It's more casual and less showy. I should've trusted Nora's gut right off the bat; she hasn't let me down yet.

"Aaand here's us," she sings with a hop, gesturing to a small stage with a display board set up. It shows concepts of the building we're planning on putting up—a massive low-rise apartment complex for lower income families. I swallow the nerves that rise at just seeing the sketches the architect came up with.

Yeah, it's not going to be cheap.

"Looks great," I tell Nora. "Hopefully people will come."

"Oh, they will," she says. "I mean, have you seen these graphics? Pretty impressive. They'll work like a charm."

They better. I think about the sum in my bank account, getting lower every day. The only thing I ever really bought myself with my inheritance was that house. It was necessary—no, fucking imperative—that I had one. Even if I live in it alone, I needed to know that I had my own nest to go back to, that I could feel safe there. I went through a couple apartment rentals after I turned eighteen and got my inheritance, but when I was twenty, I couldn't stop romanticizing the idea of my own damn home with my own damn kitchen and my own damn barstools and granite countertops, like what the Wexler's had.

It took a long time to adjust after I'd got it. Almost like I was an intruder in my own house. But eventually, I settled, and now it's very much mine.

And it's not cheap either.

All things considered, I'm still sort of broke. My dad's company doesn't pull in what it used to and one-hundred percent of The Safe Way Home's proceeds go toward running the charity. Not a penny to me. I regularly sink my own money into it when we're short, something that didn't seem like a big deal a while ago, but is getting real the lower my bank account gets.

We really do need to get some sponsors tonight.

I catch sight of my reflection in the window behind us. Dress, too tight—I do my best to work out, but I've still gained weight. Hair: frazzled and unkept. I pat it down, suddenly insecure about the way my bangs part.

"Do I look all right?" I absently ask Nora, and she shoots me a perplexed frown, her silver earrings dangling below her cropped black hair.

"I'm sorry, what?"

My cheeks burn, and I turn away from her. "I said, do I look all right?"

"I know, I'm just confused because you never ask me that. Of course you look good, Lucy, you're a literal babe."

"I just want to make a good impression tonight, that's all," I mutter. "You were right. We do need it."

Nora face softens. "Don't worry. We're gonna do great. Also..." Her expression turns coy. "I heard someone pretty famous is gonna be here tonight."

I lift a brow. "Famous how?"

"You'll see! It's just a rumour. Anyway, we need to rehearse our pitch—you ready?"

I nod, but I'm still hanging on what Nora said. It's probably nothing, but...

What famous person?

* * *

An hour later, the room is crammed full of people shopping around. I stand on stage next to Nora while she pitches our project to another eager-eyed group of people with deep pockets.

"So our plan is to build a low-rise apartment complex for low-income families, in particular," Nora explains. "It can be nearly impossible for some families to find accommodations large enough to suit their needs, so we want to make spacious units that actually support the size of a family. At least two bedrooms and substantial living rooms, with dishwashers to make chores easier on working families."

"That all sounds quite expensive," a woman with short gray hair and a puckered expression, wearing gold chains over a black turtleneck, speaks up.

"Well, yes," Nora stammers, "but that's why we're here today, so generous folks like yourselves can learn about the project."

Mutters amongst the crowd. Nora's losing them, so I cut in:"Yeah, it's going to be expensive," I say, and all attention snaps to me, "but it's worth the investment. I've met with a lot of struggling families in the past few years, some who have to raise kids in one-bedroom apartments. Kids who could cure cancer someday if they have access to stable homes and schools. We can have a real impact on people's lives here, not just giving them food or toys at Christmas. We're talking about real change."

More muttering, people nodding. We've done four different presentations to four different groups, and I'm tired. But the drive to complete this project keeps me up here. I've met a lot of good people since I launched the charity, people I see myself in. Just last week, we helped a sixteen-year-old girl into our shelter program. No parents. Abusive guys trying to take her in at every street corner. It's a life I once lived, and even though it feels so distant from me now, like a movie playing on damaged film, I can't forget it. The bitter cold of the winter on my cheeks; the fear of the unknown as I slept in abandoned buildings that might not be so abandoned.

Then, in the midst of it all, a light. Elliot. God, I wish I didn't still think about him, but he's as much of my past as all of it is.

"It's certainly ambitious," another woman chimes in, "but—"

Suddenly, across the room, the sound of oohs from a crowd interrupts us. A group has surrounded someone near the entryway, next to a buffet table and another charity's stage. Our group all turn their necks to see, and from my slight vantage point, I can make out the shape of a person being swarmed. I shoot Nora a look—is this the "famous person" she was talking about?

She has a mischievous grin on her face. When I turn back to the crowd, they've dispersed too, going to see what the commotion is. I groan and turn back to Nora.

"Well, there go our potential sponsors," I mutter.

"Hey, it's okay," Nora says, "something tells me we're gonna luck out tonight. Wait here."

With that, she skitters off into the room. I sigh and hop off the stage, grabbing a bottle of water off one of the buffet tables nearby. I chug it back, and the iciness cools me down. I try to even out the clumpy bangs on my forehead as I turn back to the room, just as Nora comes back over, holding onto the arm of some girl. A willowy blonde with long beads around her neck and...

Hold up.

Grassroots Blonde?

It can't be her. Lauren or whatever. The girl I saw online when I was stalking Elliot. The girl he's dating. But Nora giggles something at the blonde, tugging her toward our presentation.

And trailing behind them is a guy.

Short brown hair, a little bit of stubble, holding up his tall frame with crutches, his right foot in an Aircast. The material of his deep blue zip-up shines under the orb lights, and as his big eyes apprehensively look around the room, their colour is like the ocean.

And he, well. He's—

"Lucy!" Nora calls out, waving as she drags the blonde closer. "There's someone I want you to meet!"

Nora and her apparent friend, who I can now confirm is Grassroots Blonde, look at me. But I'm looking past them.

My eyes lock on Elliot's, and his lock on mine. For a moment, we're suspended in time; me, wondering if this is all some sort of hallucination. Him, probably seeing ghost. My blood pressure drops. The hospital room where we said goodbye materializes around me.

"I love you, Lucy."

"You were the best thing that ever happened to me, Elliot."

Oh, God. I want to throw up.

But it's more than that. It's guilt. Memories of leaving him, of screwing with his head, when I was in no position to be in a relationship with anyone. And there's more guilt now, because as I look into his confused eyes, that look so much like the ones I left behind when I was seventeen, all I want to do is get the hell away from him. For different reasons than before.

I never thought I'd see Elliot Wexler again.

I didn't want to see him again.

He's moved on from me; he has a life now, a better one without me in it. I'm just a painful memory to him. Plus, I'm sweaty and wearing a dress that's too tight, while he looks like he just walked off a photoshoot for effortlessly hot hockey players. I feel oddly insecure, and it hits me that maybe it's not as big of a deal to him as it is for me. Maybe he's fully moved on. With the models, his new girlfriend.

I was important to him once, but I'm not now.

That's probably why he hobbles over on his crutches, offering an awkward smile.

"Lucy," Nora says, "this is my friend from yoga, Lauren?"

Lauren offers a hand, her green gaze studying me, but the smile on her lips tells me she has no idea who I am. Or maybe it just doesn't matter.

I'm on autopilot, so I shake her hand back. It's cold and slick with hand lotion.

Then they turn to Elliot. "And you probably already know him," Nora says, once again, with that glint in her eye. "This is Elliot Wexler, the Northern Lights's centerman!"

Elliot and I lock eyes again. I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. Just dust.

"Lucy loves hockey," Nora says.

"She does?" His voice. It's deeper now, a contrast to my memory. Elliot stands at attention and crosses his arms over his broad chest, a near-amused smirk on his lips that makes me want to die. Adult Elliot is more attractive in person than I was prepared for, and he radiates it, like he knows it.

"Oh yeah, she watches Northern Lights games all the time!" Nora exclaims.

Nora has no idea what she's doing, but I hate her for it anyway. I try to play it off with a languid shrug. "Sometimes, I don't know."

Maybe this was her plan all along. Because Nora's caught me watching Northern Lights games on my phone, she thought it'd be a good idea to introduce Elliot to me after she met his girlfriend. I can't blame Nora; she has no idea Elliot and I were ever in each other's lives. No one does. I'd bet even Lauren has no clue; maybe Elliot thought it was best to leave me in the past. I don't blame him. I feel like a huge creep for knowing even an iota about him, his life, and his new girlfriend.

"I'm a journalist," Lauren says, "so I was hoping to cover the event, and I can totally feature your charity." She glances at the stage. "It's called The Safe Way Home? I didn't know!" She turns to Elliot. "Weren't you asking about them?"

Elliot scratches the back of his neck. "Uh, yeah, I was. I didn't know they were gonna be here."

My face burns like lava. He says it as a general statement, but I know it's directed at me, letting me know that he didn't plan this either. But I can't look at him, not again. We're still in public, so I try my best to put on a mask:

"Anyway, thanks for checking it out," I say to Lauren. "Nora can give you guys the rundown. She's a lot better at pitching ideas than me."

Nora turns to Lauren and happily claps her hands, and Lauren offers her the same gesture. Clearly, these two are "besties," and I had no idea. Why would I? Nora and I don't hang out outside of work things.

I need air, so I turn away from the stage, my sights set on the balcony. As I walk away, I glance over my shoulder and catch a glimpse of Elliot's eyes on me.

He looks away.

* * *

A/N: Apologies for the delay on  updating! I hope to stay on track and get lots out soon.

What do we think so far??