“Dean . . .” she says softly. My heart hits against my ribs, not yet calmed from the mad race over here. “Yes?” I reply. “Did you catch me?” “No.” I shake my head. “But I did dig you out.” “Maybe next time . . . try to catch me,” Cat says. I know she’s joking, but I feel an uneasy guilt that makes my laugh sound strange. “Next time give me a little warning,” I say. “You’re so fast . . .” Cat whispers, her voice drifting across the space between us. “Not that fast,” I say. “You could catch me . . .” Cat says, her eyes half closed.
