CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
I slide my key in the lock and open the door a crack before turning around and waving to Aspen as she hangs half out of the black SUV that picked us up from the airport.
“See you on Sunday!” she yells before Jake, the driver, honks the horn twice and drives away.
Now that we’ve bonded over a weekend in Arizona, I’ll never be able to get out of a girls’ brunch again. But for the first time in… forever I’m excited about having a close group of girlfriends. Who knows, maybe one day I’ll even get used to hanging out with rich people.
My skin would definitely appreciate it. I roll up the sleeves of my sweater and stare at my arm for a few seconds before walking into the house. It tingles and feels so… clean. And smooth. It’s the weirdest sensation ever.
Mid skin admiration my body bends and the floor reaches out for me. I stick an arm out to catch my fall as the box I tripped over bashes me in the shin.
“Mother…” I grab a dining room chair and successfully stop myself from face-planting in the carpet. “What the hell?”
I rub my injured leg and keep my death grip on the chair so as not to lose my balance. In the space that used to be an empty entryway is now a trip hazard. In the two days I’ve been gone an entire forest of brown boxes has collected. Boxes line one wall, stacked two or three high. Another three scattered on the floor in random positions. A short rectangular one causes my trip on the walk in.
“Hey, you’re home.” Drew walks out of the kitchen wiping his hands on a dish towel and acts like it’s a random Sunday night. Not one where I almost tripped and fell to my doom.
“What’s up with the boxes?” I ask when he doesn’t start explaining.
He tosses the dish towel over his shoulder and looks directly at the boxes in question. “Oh those. Yeah be careful so you don’t trip.”
“Really, Drew?” He’s a horrible liar. This whole “it’s no big deal” act isn’t working on me.
“They were dropped off a few minutes ago. Don’t worry. We’ll pick them up soon.”
“Who dropped them off? Who will pick them up? Where are they going?” I drop the duffel bag I packed for the weekend on the floor. “What the hell is going on?”
“Well…” He turns and walks back into the kitchen.
Of course I follow him. My previous relaxation melts away with each step. Why is it that every time I get annoyed it involves a man? The edge of my flip-flop barely crosses onto the linoleum in the kitchen when I realize there’s a better way to get answers. I turn on a heel and return to the random boxes in the entryway.
The small rectangular box I tripped over isn’t taped down, the top closed by the four flaps folded over one another. I pry them open and rummage through the contents. Inside is an odd assortment of black cords and various controllers and video game systems. A few game cases are stacked up on one side, a green X on the spines.
“What are you doing?” Drew sprints to the box and fumbles to get the top down almost sitting on it in his rush.
Aware of at least five more boxes, I walk to the next one. But before I reach out to open it Drew blocks the way. “This is private property. It belongs to our new roommate.”
My eyes narrow in his direction. “New roommate?” I lean in close and whisper, “Tell me you did not let Jesse move in here.” My crazy-eyed look should be enough to scare him into telling me the truth.
He shakes his head. “I definitely did not let Jesse move in while you were gone.”
“Are you lying to me?” He’s such a horrible liar sometimes I can’t tell if he’s lying, being sarcastic, or telling the truth.
“No.”
“I swear to you, Drew, if you let that weirdo move in you are in serious trouble. I will make you rue the day.”
“Oh I’m gonna rue the day.” He shakes his head and rolls his eyes like he’s not at all concerned about the pain I will dish out. “I swear it’s not Jesse. Don’t worry. You’ll never see this person.”
That’s even more alarming. I side step him and tear open another box before he reaches me. This one is full of clothing. There’s a stack of jeans, a few nicely folded colorful polo shirts, and one black Stanford sweatshirt laying right on top. There is only one person who lives on the West Coast of America and would keep this assortment of clothes in their wardrobe.
I latch on to the sweatshirt and pull it out of the box, turning it and my body toward Drew. “You let Grant in our house?”
“Clare…”
The sweatshirt sails in the air as I throw it at Drew’s head. “You promised.”
“I didn’t have any other choice.”
“There is always a choice before you betray a friend. A best friend!”
“Clare, we are out of choices. I don’t have the money to cover extra rent.” Drew sighs.
I don’t sit and listen to any more of his excuses. The stairs rattle as I run up them. This poor old house hasn’t seen this much action in the last hundred years. On the second floor without hesitation I walk across the open space and throw open the door to the third bedroom.
The room is basically as empty as it was before I left on Friday. A small desk under the large window and a twin size bed the rental came with are in the same spots along one wall. There are boxes in a corner stacked on top of one another. Already a few suits hang in the closet.
Grant isn’t in the room unpacking as I expected, but there’s a lump on the bed under the covers. In two steps I clear the space and rip the covers back. Grant sits up, his eyes blinking in confusion. I stand by the bed my heart thumping, my hands on my hips and wait for him to stick up for himself.
“Oh, you’re home. I’m glad you made it back safely, Clare.”
He pulls the blanket back over his bare chest. I refuse to be upset by missing the view.
“What are you doing?”
At that moment Drew steps in between me and the bed, his hands outstretched, one toward each of us. I can’t decide if he’s protecting me or Grant.
Grant, if he’s smart.
Grant peeks around Drew’s chest. “I moved in to help out with the rent problem.”
“We don’t have a rent problem,” I lie.
Drew’s head flicks toward mine. “Yes, we do.”
“I’m trying to help you out.” Grant pushes Drew to the side and stands up next to the bed.
“Yeah, you’re good at helping people. You helped the people at Del Fray for sure.” Grant flinches at the insults. “We don’t need your help.”
“Clare, his money is good, and he paid six months in advance.”
I scowl and rip my attention from Grant to Drew. “So once again he gets to use his money to get whatever he wants?”
“No…”
I don’t give him time to finish the sentence. “And I’m the poor girl he gets to tromp over to get his way. No one cares about my feelings, right?”
“Clare, you know it’s not like that.” Drew puts both his hands on my shoulders and lines our faces up refusing to look away. “I would never do anything to hurt you, but besides selling a kidney we are out of other options. Even if we broke the lease and went someplace smaller, we’re still liable for the missing rent.”
“There was no one else?” I ask crossing my fingers. Jesse would probably be okay… maybe.
Grant clears his throat. “I’m right here.”
“Not if I can help it.” I walk to the doorway, but stop before leaving. “You want to live here so badly? Fine. Pay your rent on time and don’t talk to me. Ever.”
I stew all the way back to my room but considering it’s the one right next to Grant’s I don’t have long to deal with my emotions. I decide to slam my door as part of my big exit but Drew catches it on a hand and gently closes it behind him.
“I don’t want to talk to you either.” I point a finger at him.
Drew sighs, and the crumpled expression on his face shows he isn’t taking the situation as lightly as I assumed. “I knew you’d be upset, but there was no other option. I understand if you’re pissed. Feel free to take it out on me as long as you need to.”
I sit on the edge my bed the springs squeaking. “Why him, Drew?”
“Clare,” he answers, stressed. “He’s like the only guy in this city who can come up with a thousand dollars in a day’s notice.” Drew actually chuckles until I flash him another annoyed face. “I know you don’t like him and you’re pissed off, but the two of you used to get along. And honestly, Grant’s not that bad of a guy.”
“I disagree.”
Drew flops on the bed and wraps an arm around my shoulder. “We’ve all made stupid decisions, Clare. If you judged me on the ones I made this month, you’d be disappointed.”
There’s real sadness in his eyes. “I could never be disappointed in you.”
“You have no idea what I do, Clare.” He laughs, but it’s not funny. “I’m saying, we all have crappy decisions to make at times.”
“But Grant doesn’t even care.”
“Oh I think he does.” Drew smiles. “Give him a second chance if you want… Or don’t,” he continues when I give him a pissy look. “But let’s take his money.”
“Drew…”
“I’m serious.” He laughs more. “Let him buy his way into the house — he comes with an Xbox if you didn’t see.” His eyes widen and he shakes his head a few times in appreciation. “But he can’t buy his way back into your heart.”
Drew taps on my chest twice and I reach up and grab his fingers. “It feels like he’s trying.”
“Well if there’s one thing I know about Clare Cunningham it’s that trying to buy you off with money will never work. Chocolates… that’s a different story, but never money.”
“Or ice cream. Remember the time you flooded the bathroom and bought me Cherry Garcia for a month?” The memory of receiving my favorite Ben and Jerry’s ice cream brings back my smile even though at the time I wanted to strangle him.
“Well expect Garcia in the freezer every time you open the door from now until infinity,” he mumbles giving me a hug. “I’ll be working my way out of the hole for a while.”
“Such a long, long while,” I say into his underarm where he smooshed my head for this hug.
When he pulls back and lets me go, his expression is serious again. “But for real, Clare, ignore him. You’ll be fine.”
Yes. I’ll be fine.
That’s exactly what I am. How hard can it be?