EMERSON
Once again, Lauren saved the day.
I sent off a quick SOS! and before I could say “Aster Lancaster can suck my lady balls,” Lauren was parked in front of the curb with her engine running.
She didn’t ask a single question, just took one look at my suitcase and my (unquestionably) sad face and announced, “You’re staying with us.”
Who was I to argue? The idea of bumping into Lucas while I was torn between wanting to jump him and strangle him was disturbing. My luck, I’d probably end up a headline on some grocery store tabloid. I still couldn’t decide which of us was worse, him for asking “how high” when Aster said jump, or me for being stupid enough to think I could make a leopard change its spots.
That I was somehow different. A special snowflake.
How many other girls had told themselves that very same thing?
My mother certainly had.
At least if I was at Lauren and Will’s place I could get a good night’s sleep without thinking about Lucas being right next door.
Their place was small. Basically, a glorified shack, if it wasn’t for all the homey touches that made you realize how cozy it was. And as much as I tried to convince myself that real love was a myth—like unicorns or Bigfoot—Lauren and Will were downright adorable.
I wanted to gag.
They shared their beachside house with Tess, Will’s sixteen-year-old-sister who he’d taken custody of after their mother died. It probably explained why the house wasn’t your typical bachelor pad. There were doilies and crocheted blankets and school photos and kids’ artwork filling every nook and cranny.
Like most teens, Tess made herself scarce. I saw about two seconds of her, when she poked her head out long enough to snag a bag of potato chips.
“So does seeing her mean six more weeks of winter?” I asked Will when she disappeared behind her bedroom door again.
He ran his hand through his messy hair. “Yeah, man. Teenage girls, they’re . . . so . . .” He trailed off like he wasn’t sure exactly what they were.
Lauren, who was perched on his lap on the loveseat they were sharing, finished his sentence. “She’s a good kid. You should come watch her surf sometime. From what I hear, she’s even better than her brother was.”
Will looked mock-offended. “Ouch, babe. I’m right here.”
She snuggled further into his lap and purred, “Mmm . . . I noticed.”
It was so weird hearing Lauren like that. She’d always been the prudish one of the two of us, at least when it came to guys. She’d even been a virgin right up until Will. “Okay, gross. I’m right here too. If this is your way of trying to get rid of me, it’s working.” I punched my pillow, pretending it was Lucas as I flopped down and stretched out on my couch-slash-bed.
Lauren gave me a sympathetic look. “So what happened?”
“Do we have to? I’d really rather not.”
She gave me an I give up look. “Fine. It’s your life.” Getting up, she tugged at Will’s hand. “But we’ll be in the next room if you change your mind.”
The look she gave Will was entirely different from the one she’d just given me, and I realized there was no way I’d be knocking on that door tonight.
“Thanks but no thanks,” I assured them. “I’d rather throw acid in my eyes.”
There was something about a new day to put everything in perspective.
Maybe it was the crick in my neck from trying to get comfortable on the lumpy couch.
Or the nonstop barking of the dog that sounded like it was camped right outside the window all night long.
Or the splitting headache that started right behind my eyes and radiated out to both temples.
Maybe it was the sheer sleep deprivation I was currently suffering, but whatever it was, I felt inspired. Today, I decided, was going to be the best day ever. The first day of the rest of my life. No pain, no gain. And all those other Quote-of-the-Day clichés.
As the sun rose on this bright and shiny morning, I’d come to a conclusion about the whole Lucas and me thing.
I’d spent years making sure I was the one in control, and it had worked for me . . . right up until Lucas. With him, I’d let my guard down. I’d gone soft.
That had been my mistake. I should never have let him in. I should never have let myself think he was anything more than a fling, because that’s how people ended up hurt.
The moment I allowed myself to have feelings for him, I got hurt.
So not worth it.
Something had to change . . . and that something was me.
I needed to take this no-strings thing to a whole new level. Kick it up a notch. Put myself back in the game and be selfish again.
Operation Screw Lucas was in full effect. Figuratively, of course . . . not literally.
That was the only way I’d ever be happy again.
I got up and stretched, rolling my neck from side to side, working out the kinks. “Thanks for letting me get my sad all over your happy place,” I said to Lauren, who was sitting at her kitchen table. She was leaning over her iPad, scanning and swiping, scanning and swiping, the wrinkle between her eyebrows telling me she was deep in concentration. I nodded toward the window. “You think anyone would notice if I deep-sixed that dog out there?”
She spared me a suspicious side eye. “Um, pretty sure the little girl who lives there would. And just in case you’re serious, the dog’s name is Poppy.” She turned her full attention on me then. “You know that’s how you stop a psychopath from committing murder, don’t you? You humanize the victim.”
“Thanks for the lesson, Dr. Phil.” I wrapped my blanket around me and got up to join her at the table, snooping over her shoulder at her tablet. “What’re ya doing?”
“Mr. Wall asked me to help him sort through these applicants for the new mission advancement position at the rec center. So far, not one of them is jumping out at me.” Lauren had started as a volunteer at the rec center—a part-time gig teaching the kids computer skills to fill some of her spare time when we’d first moved here. But she’d taken to the kids and the place. And once she’d decided to move here full time, they’d offered her a real job with real pay.
“What’s the job?”
“Kind of a catchall thing. We need someone who can look for grant money, do some light accounting, and even some social media stuff. With so many new kids coming through our doors each day, none of the staff has time to pick up the slack. We need more money and more equipment. I have my hands full in the training center.”
I mulled that over for a bit while she went back to searching. I thought about my dad and all the times he’d bragged about helping out with fundraisers for events, but I wondered if he’d ever set foot in one of the places he helped out. If he’d ever seen the faces of the people he was contributing to.
I thought about going back home—to my summer rental next door to Lucas’s. To all the time I would have on my hands until my internship started. If I had to sit in my place all day, I’d go stir-crazy for sure.
“What about me?” I finally asked. “I mean, at least as a temp anyway. I can get everything up and running, so that when I have to head back to Arizona someone can just step in and take over.”
Lauren glanced up again, making a face that said she was waiting for the punch line. “You? I thought you hated those kids.”
“I never said I hated them. I mean, yeah . . . they’re a little scary.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“Okay, scary as fuck. But I need something to do. Besides, if you like it down there, why wouldn’t I?”
“Uh, did I mention it’s shit for pay?”
I raised my eyebrows back at her. “I don’t need the money.” I leaned forward. “Look, you know I’m qualified. I might not have the practical experience, but I graduated with honors, and I’ve been helping with the books at my dad’s dealerships after school and summers since I was sixteen. I can learn the grant thing, and I will social media the shit outta that place. Give me a chance. It’s only a few weeks.” I shrugged. “What do you have to lose?”
She chewed her lip, and I knew, even before she said it, I had her.
“You’ll social media the shit out of it, hmm?”
I gave her my Bambi eyes.
“Well, not one of these other applicants listed that on their résumés.” She smiled. “Can you start today?”