Page 12 of Bloom

Tears prick my eyes, but I blink them away. “I'm sorry, Lottie. I didn't mean any harm.”

“Yeah, whatever.” She slashes a hand through the air, like she wishes I was a bug she could swat. “Just go away.”

I want to ask why she’s here. I thought none of them came here. I know for a fact the burial was the first and only time Lux and Jackson have ever been anywhere near their mother’s grave.

If it was any other sibling, I would ask. But this is Lottie, and I do actually value my life. So, without another word, I sheepishly scurry off to the parking lot, my mind already working overtime to forget her vicious words.

Get your own family and stay away from mine.

5

He wonders if she’d be quite so eager to chat if she could hear the thoughts in his head.

I would be lyingif I said I was completely surprised when Oscar Jackson broke up with me.

In the moment, sure, I was shocked. Devastated. Flooded with pure, blinding panic. But hours later, with my thumping head resting on a damp pillow, I felt the oddest sense of relief. The kind you feel when something you’ve been expecting,dreading, finally happens.

As much as I tried to convince myself—and him—otherwise, I knew I wasn’t what Jackson really wanted. I knew his sisters barely tolerated me and that was an undeniable dealbreaker, though I never quite knew what I did to deserve their loftiness. I knew that no one wanted me around Serenity Ranch as much as I wanted to be there. But knowing didn’t stop it from hurting. Didn’t stop the teary days when I’d drive halfway there before catching my mistake, or the long, lonely ones with barely a soul to talk to because it wasn’t just my boyfriend who broke up withme and promptly left town—he was my best friend too. He left, and so did pretty much everyone else in our class, including the couple of girls I was the friendliest with, who I now see maybe twice a year when they visit.

Everyone but me got out of Haven Ridge.

Everyone but me, and Lux.

Hiding behind the foliage decorating Bloom’s large window, I watch my friend from a distance. With Alex strapped to her chest, she weaves through the Sunday morning food market, either oblivious to my borderline stalking or ignoring it the same way she ignores every other eye on her.

I know those looks. I’ve been the recipient of those looks, and the oh-so-subtle whispers too—such beautiful accompaniments to that idyllic small town life. When it was me, pity fuelled the attention.

Look at poor, heartbroken Caroline. Unceremoniously dumped by her high school sweetheart. Boohoo.

But Lux… yeah, there’s nothing pitying about the side-eye thrown her way.

Backing up a step, I blow out a breath. For a painfully slow fortnight, I’ve been avoiding anyone with the last name Jackson. Well, notavoiding—more like distancing. Only going to the ranch if summoned, not inserting myself in every situation at any given chance. Y’know, normal people things. Healthy, non-codependent things. The opposite of pathetic and creepy things.

Things that have nothing to do with being reamed by Lottie Jackson, obviously.

“Hello? Are you even listening to me?”

Jerked from my thoughts, I cast a sheepish glance towards my young coworker. “Sorry. What did you say?”

Nova heaves a long, dramatic sigh. “I hate girls.”

Right. Yes. Before I got distracted by Lux sauntering past, we were rehashing last night’s antics over lunch. Well,Nova’santics. The party she attended, a common occurrence in the college sophomore’s life. Fake IDs and cheap beer. Meeting the love of your life only to find them making out with your friend while you were getting a drink. I’m pretty sure the frequency of the latter is specific to Nova, but what would I know? I can’t say I attend college parties all that often.

Or any parties, ever.

Remembering the banh mi in my hand, I take a bite, washing it down with a thoughtful sip of bubble tea. “Did you really throw a drink in her face?”

Nova feigns innocence as she picks cilantro out of her own sandwich. “I tripped.”

Even I can tell that’s a lie. “You know, Grace Jackson and her girlfriend just broke up.”

Brown eyes narrow in my direction, an accusation floating within them.

I shrug. “Just saying.”

A wave dismisses me, a fake shudder wracking tan shoulders. “I'm not getting involved with a Jackson. The ‘whole package’ thing with that family is too much for me.”

My head bobs in a nod. Preaching to the choir here. They’re good people, but their tight-knit bubble is daunting. Hard to penetrate. Unless you’re Luna Evans, of course—she succeeded in mere months what took me years to only half achieve.

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