Did you really think he’d let you stay at the brewery? Sophia texts.
No, but it was worth a shot.
The cookie-cutter feel continues inside the McMansion. Everything is beige or white, with the exception of dark hardwood floors that I admit are kind of cool, and every room looks the same. Worst of all, I can’t feel Mom. The staircase railing doesn’t have the nick from when Mom finally carried my first pair of skis downstairs after I insisted on sleeping with them for a month. The living room ceiling doesn’t have spots of paint in the corner from the weekend we were snowed in and decided to repaint the walls. And the kitchen is missing—her. Even though it’s been seven years since her accident, the scent of flour and vanilla and cinnamon enveloped me every time I opened a cupboard. This kitchen smells like bleach and lemon and emptiness.
I’m currently flopped on a double bed in the third bedroom from the stairs, but I could switch rooms and never know the difference.
It’s like being inside a bran muffin.
Hope there’s lots of bathrooms. When does your stuff get there?
I sigh. Next week. Thank god Dad packed sheets in his suitcase. It’s bad enough we’ll have to use someone else’s dishes until our stuff arrives. I try not to think of the people who were in here before us.
Meet anyone yet?
My eyes flick over the stark white walls, and I roll onto my back to try to stop the sensation that they’re closing in on me.
Just the ghost of Christmas future.
The house won’t get the best of you.
I miss home.
I miss you.
Anything exciting happen since I left?
Texting with Sophia is rapid-fire, our replies coming as fast as we can type, so the pause now makes me sit up.
Soph?
Well...
Spill.
I get the feeling this will be about Jake, but part of me hopes it isn’t.
I sort of had a date today. With Jake.
Even though I saw it coming, my stomach drops. I don’t like Jake like that anymore and I love Sophia and want her to be happy, but it’s like a punch to the gut.
Cally?
I swallow the bitterness lingering at the back of my throat.
I had a feeling he liked you! How was it?
I can feel her exhale from halfway across the country. We’ve never kept secrets from each other so I’m sure that was as hard for her to write as it was for me to read.
Amazing. We met for coffee, then window-shopped downtown.
Did you kiss?
Not yet, but it’s coming.
I smile. I’ve always worried that my friendship with the guys kept them from asking her out, so if me moving helps Sophia with Jake, I can add one positive to the list.
I want to hear all about it.
Deal.
Love you.
Love you too. Gotta go. xoxo.
I drop my phone on my chest. I should probably unpack or see if Dad needs help, but exhaustion tugs me into sleep before I can even turn off the light.
***
The next morning, after taking a minute to remember where the hell I am, I throw on my sneakers and grab a sweatshirt before heading downstairs. Dad’s scribbling in his notebook on the kitchen counter while sipping from a Starbucks cup. He nods his head at an identical cup next to him.
I inhale, letting the cinnamon and vanilla worm their way into my brain. “Thanks.”
“Going somewhere?”
“I thought I’d check out the neighborhood.”
He smiles from behind his cup. “I was afraid you’d lock yourself in your room in protest.”
The corner of my mouth lifts. “Don’t think I didn’t consider it. But I can only stare at white walls for so long—and I need some fresh air.”
“We should probably hit the grocery store at some point, but do you want to go skiing later?”
I laugh. “Duh.”
He quirks a brow. “You’re okay renting?”
“Just this once.”
“I need to go into town for a bit. How about I pick up lunch on the way back, then we’ll head out?”
I take another sip. “Perfect.”
Shortly after he leaves, I slip the house key in my pocket and step into the brisk morning sunshine. The brochures weren’t kidding when they said it’s sunny almost every day. I shield my eyes as I make my way down the driveway and nearly collide with an elderly woman walking a droopy-eyed Basset Hound.
“Good morning! You must be our new neighbors!”
I position myself so I’m not facing the sun and smile as her face comes into focus. Tight gray curls frame a face swirling with wrinkles, but it’s clear from her grin the lines are from years of laughing. Her head barely reaches my shoulder and she seems even shorter because of a slight hunch. If she laid down next to the dog he’d probably be bigger than her.
I hook my thumb over my shoulder at the house. “Yeah, my dad and I moved in yesterday.”
She touches her finger to her lips. “I didn’t see a moving truck. Ernest and I always notice things like that.”
I bend forward to scratch the dog’s ears and am thanked with a tongue to the face. I wipe off the slobber with my sleeve. “You must be Ernest.” He bays, a low echoing sound that I feel in my chest.
Her laughter makes me look up. “Oh, heaven’s no. This is Cooper. Ernest is my husband.” She holds out her hand. “I’m Eleanor Sherman.”
“Cally. Cally Clarke.” Just call me double-oh seven. “My dad’s Tom. Our stuff is supposed to get here next week, so we—”
With zero warning, Cooper lunges down the sidewalk, jerking his leash from Eleanor’s hand. I catch her arm to keep her from falling as Cooper gallops around the corner onto the next street.
“Oh dear. I’ll never be able to catch him.”
I squeeze her arm. “I’ll go. You wait here.” I sprint down the street, praying Cooper didn’t go past the next street or I might never find my way back.
I round the corner as Cooper’s tail disappears in a row of bushes along the sidewalk at the end of the block. “Cooper!” I wrap an arm around my chest to keep the girls from smacking me in the face. A bra would have been a good decision before I left the house. There’s no sign of Cooper behind the bushes, so I hurry through the yard around the side of the house and slam directly into a chest.
“Oof!”
“Sorry!”
He catches me as I start to fall, but my momentum topples us both into the grass. I’m pretty sure my knee lands in a place I’ve only dreamed about touching and his elbow catches me in my very bra-less chest. A boy around my age with short black hair and warm brown skin is smiling at me.
I scramble to my feet, and only then do I notice the pair of bright green eyes locked on mine. You’d think those would have been the first thing I noticed. They pierce right through me, jump-starting my heart and causing a blush to creep up my neck.
A slow smile lights up his face, all white teeth and full lips and holy crap I haven’t brushed my teeth or brushed my hair and what the hell must I look like? His smile deepens and he nods at my arms, which are clamped over my chest. “Are you okay?”
My face reddens. There’s no way he can tell I’m not wearing a bra, but I feel exposed anyway. “Yeah, sorry. Did you see a Basset hound gallop this way?”
“Cooper?”
“You know him?”
He rubs a hand over his hair. “Yeah, but Dolly knows him better.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“My lab.” He nods his head toward the backyard. “Follow me.” He leads me alongside the house and I follow him over the stone path, staying a few feet back so my breath doesn’t knock him out. We round the corner and—
“Dolly, no!”
“Cooper!”
Mrs. Sherman’s floppy-eared dog is going to town on Dolly, who, from her half-closed eyes, doesn’t seem to mind. “Cooper!” I sprint across the yard but he doesn’t stop.
I’m mortified. Beyond embarrassed. But despite the absolute humiliation, a giggle escapes. Mr. Hottie Green Eyes smirks, and we bust out laughing. “What a stud,” I say.
Cooper starts to do his thing again and he grabs Dolly’s collar. “I better put her inside.”
I slip my hand into the loop of Cooper’s leash. “I should probably get him home. Sorry for knocking you over.” I tug at the hem of my sweatshirt, wishing for the fiftieth time that I’d put on a bra. Or deodorant.
“Is Mrs. Sherman your grandma?”
“No, my neighbor.”
He smiles, and I swear his eyes brighten. “You live here?”
I check my non-existent watch. “For almost eighteen hours.”
Yes, his smile is definitely bigger. “Junior?”
Disappointment pricks my chest. “Sophomore.”
“Me too.”
“I’m Cally.” I hold out my hand and his warm hand covers mine.
“Evan.”
Cooper tugs me toward the sidewalk, no doubt ready for a cigarette and a nap. “Mrs. Sherman is probably worried.”
Evan squeezes my hand once more, then lets go. “You going to Monarch?”
I nod.
“Then let me be the first to welcome you.”
“I guess I’ll see you around.” I lift my hand in a half-wave and turn to go. I’m almost to the sidewalk when he calls out.
“Hey, Cally.”
I turn back.
“Do you ski?”
I smile so hard the sun’s probably glaring off my teeth. With a quick nod I say, “Yep,” then follow Cooper back to Mrs. Sherman, my heart lighter than it’s been in weeks. If there are more kids like Evan at this school, how bad can it be?