Pride, Mates, and Past Mistakes

I'm a Natural with a Gun, Didn't You Know?

*Sierra*

I blinked at her, not properly registering her words. “What?”

“Well, technically he’s not my mate any more…”

“What?”

“I might have, uh, you know, possibly rejected him.”

“Wait, what?!”

I gaped at Sierra, my mind reeling.

It all made sense now…

Casey and Nolan looking drained…

The pained expressions…

I continued to gape at Casey, my jaw unhinged. “B—but—but…?”

This was insane—Nolan and Casey were probably the most unlikely two people on earth to get together—why on earth would they be mates?

Casey sighed in frustration, nodding. “Yeah, I feel you. I don’t know what mysterious force puts someone with their mate, but I swear, he or she was drunk as hell when they were picking our fates.”

“But…”

“I found out on his eighteenth birthday,” Casey mumbled, looking down. “He gave me cake and our hands touched and we just—-Urgh—I just still can’t believe it’s him…”

“So let me get this straight,” I said in disbelief, still not processing the details properly, “Nolan is your mate.”

“Unfortunately.”

“You found out on his eighteenth birthday.”

“Much to his horror.”

“His birthday was in December.”

"I'm quite sure.”

“It is currently September.”

“According to my calendar, yes.”

“It’s been nine months since that happened.”

“More or less, sure, but who’s counting?”

“So you mean to tell me,” I said slowly, my voice beginning to rise a few octaves, “that this whole time, you didn’t tell me?!”

Casey winced. “Well, I was planning to get it out there some day…”

“Oh, really? And when would that have been?”

Casey didn’t reply.

“Casey,” I groaned in exasperation, “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

She threw her hands in the air, looking frustrated with herself. “I don’t know! I just—it’s just not the best conversation starter, you know. ‘Hey, friend I haven’t seen in a whole year,’” she mocked, “‘How’re you doing? I’m just dandy, thanks for asking. Except for the fact that I found out your jerk of a brother who just so happened to be one of the reasons you left, is my mate, and I rejected him because he was a douchebag. How are you doing?.’”

“You took nine months to tell me. Nine. And if I hadn’t pushed you for it now, how much longer would it have taken?”

She laughed nervously. “I might have stalled a bit.”

“Stalled?! Nine months, Casey. Why wouldn’t you tell me over the phone? I called every Friday night!”

“I tried!” She moaned, burying her face in her hands. “I tried.” Her voice was muffled, but discernible. “Sierra, I swear—I tried to tell you, but every time I did—it—it just wouldn’t come out! It was like something was holding me back. The words would get stuck in my throat.”