Page 16 of Digging Up Love
“I could be happy.” Or at least content. Didn’t she owe it to her grandparents to keep trying?
“You’re just going to miraculously love it here? Stop. Tell your grandparents. Tell that snarky sister of yours.” Meg grinned. Alisha was certain they got some kind of sick joy out of ragging on each other. Couple of weirdos. “At least get your family’s opinion before you talk yourself out of moving.”
She glared at Meg. “Don’t get your panties in a wad. I’m not talking myself out of anything. And you know, if you’re going to miss me, you could always join me.”
“Hard pass. Skyscrapers and traffic is your thing. Besides, we both know you’ll be back here every few weeks to check in on your grandparents. We’ll see each other plenty.”
“We’ll see each other every day if I decide to stay put and open up a cookie shop here.”
Meg’s emerald eyes narrowed to slits. “Woman ...”
“Kidding! I’m kidding.” She wasn’t. But this battle of wills had gone on long enough. “I’ll tell them soon so I’m ready to go when the right listing pops up.”
“All right, girl, I trust you.” The wrinkles bunching Meg’s porcelain forehead said otherwise, but she started yanking her darts out of the board, and Alisha blew out a relieved breath. Unfortunately, on her inhale, a miasma of cologne enveloped her, accompanied by a tug on one of her braids.
“I see Bob Marley’s back in town.”
Alisha winced and extracted her hair from Greg McAllister’s clutches. She shifted to give him a withering look. “And I see too much time breathing in fertilizer has gotten to your head.”
Greg laughed.Ick.You’d think after fifteen years he might come up with new material.
Freshman year she’d shown up after Christmas break with microbraids. She’d flounced into homeroom, floating on a cloud of oil sheen and ready to debut the intricate braids that reached nearly to her waist, ending in glossy curls. Greg had taken one look at her and climbed up onto his chair, his pointed index finger the exclamation point to the shouted words still ringing in her ears. “Look, guys, it’s Bob Marley!”
No disrespect to the late, great reggae artist—the blatant stereotyping is what had pricked her skin like an assault from a thousand tiny needles. What would he say if she ever decided to get her hair loc’d? Probably not even know the difference, was what.
She sighed. Yet another reason she didn’t love Hawksburg. Because she was Black. Or mixed, or biracial. Whatever people felt like labeling her at the moment, regardless of her preference. She’d even been called “colored” once, during a class on US history. The teacher hadn’t said anything.
Growing up in the Chicago suburbs, she’d gone to school with a diverse group of kids. Then she’d moved here and discovered she and Simone stuck out like black sheep in a white flock.
But not everyone was Greg McAllister. Meg, for one. When a girl at a sleepover said Alisha’s mom must’ve tricked her father into getting her pregnant, Meg drew a line in the sand—or shag carpet, in this case—and stood up for her with red-faced indignation, when Alisha would’ve waved it off. That zero-tolerance policy and a shared obsession with theJurassic Parkfranchise had cemented their friendship from day one.
“I could really use a latte.” The safe word she and Meg had created for bad dates snapped Alisha back to reality. Meg aimed a rictus smileat Greg where he’d cornered her by the dartboard, no doubt fumigating her with the Old Spice he applied by the gallon like pest spray. Her wide eyes begged for rescue.
“On my way,” Alisha mouthed, but across the bar, at the entrance to the billiards room, Shawn Ingram hailed her with a wave and scooted his muscular frame around the stools toward her, pool stick in hand.
Lifting his mesh trucker cap, he raked his fingers through his sandy-blond hair. “Don’t tell me—Greg’s pestering you about why you don’t speak Ebonics again.” He wrapped her in a hug, then stepped back, a gleam of mischief in his glacier-blue eyes. “Idiot.”
She shrugged. Living among people who’d known her since childhood but still held a deep-seated belief that the color of her skin set her apart as “other” wasn’t always comfortable. But being on a first-name basis with only one person who wasn’t white? Must’ve made it hard to get it right. At least Shawn made an effort.
“We missed you this weekend at the Saint Patrick’s Day festival,” he said.
Since she wasn’t interested in succumbing to insanity brought on by one too many town parades, her weekend escape to Chicago had provided the perfect excuse to skip out on the whole production.
He laughed at the face she pulled. “Word on the street is you ditched us for Simone. How is she?”
“Doing good. Headed for a promotion, looks like.” Her sister might’ve been a workaholic, but Alisha’s chest swelled at her success. At least one Blake sister was living the dream. “Lately she’s been talking about getting her MBA. You know Simone, always looking for what’s next.”
Shawn leaned on his pool stick with an easy smile. “Sounds like the Sim I remember. Glad the city hasn’t changed her. Any idea when she’ll be home next?”
“Not sure, her schedule is crazy right now.” If he still held a torch for her sister, good luck—not only was Chicago a world away, butSimone had no time for a boyfriend these days. But that little detail wouldn’t stop her from stirring the pot. “You could always call her up yourself, you know.” She grinned. “Or FaceTime her. Whatever it is you youngsters are doing these days.”
The flush that spread up his neck confirmed her hunch, but Greg stalked up from behind and choked him in a one-sided dude hug.Saved by the bro.
They started up another round of darts. Alisha begged off, claiming exhaustion after a long morning on the road. From the grin on Meg’s face, she’d guessed Alisha’s real reason for skipping out early—to text Quentin. But if her friend wanted to think there was something going on, fine. At least it would keep her off Alisha’s back about dating for now. The sooner she resolved the camera issue and put Quentin out of mind, the better.
By some twist of fate, Mrs.Snyder’s half-baked prophesy had become manifest. The dinosaur digwouldbe the biggest thing to happen in Hawksburg, maybe ever. How cool to see aNational Geographiccenterfold come to life. But the hot professor running point? A speed bump she couldn’t let knock her off course. Alisha needed to do everything in her power to keep her life on track, and that included steering clear of Dr.Harris.
CHAPTER 7
