Page 31 of Home Town Advantage
“Whatever. Sometimes you just need to be a cunt. You never know who’s having a good day and doesn’t fucking deserve it. Noahdefinitelydoesn’t deserve it.”
I can’t help but laugh. “You’re refreshingly unapologetically you.”
She smirks. “I sure am. For what it’s worth, I’m a bitch to those who deserve it, but I’m thoughtful to those who deserve that courtesy. It’s quite simple. It’s called being genuine. More people in this world should try it.”
I nod, grateful that I seemingly fall into the latter category. “Do you want to ride over to Layla’s tonight with Palmer and me?” I inquire.
She shakes her head. “I can’t. I’m hanging out with my little brother all afternoon. We’re going shopping.” She picks her cuticles as she looks down nervously. “I’ve been kind of a shitty sister to him for the past few years. I left him to deal with my parents’ divorce alone. I’m trying to make up for it. He’s seventeen. He needs some girl advice, and I want to help. I guess when you’re the oldersibling…”
She catches herself and stops speaking. I shake my head. “You don’t have to feel uncomfortable talking about your brother with me. It’s okay. Don’t censor yourself.”
She nods in understanding as Palmer walks into the training room like she was rushing here. She removes the prescription goggles she wears while she plays. A little out of breath, she pants, “Oh good, Kennedy is with you. I didn’t want you to be alone for long.”
I can’t help but smile at how thoughtful my new friends are. Female friends looking out for me is new. In fact, I haven’t felt like someone truly has my back since Finn died. Not even Shane.
Kennedy glances at Palmer’s goggles. “Why don’t you just wear contacts? It’s easier.”
Palmer scrunches her face. “I don’t like contacts.” She looks down as she admits, “I feel like my goggles are my mask, hiding me from the world.”
Kennedy looks at me and deadpans, “AndIfeel like everything she says is a subtle cry for help.”
I shrug. “The goggles are a comfort to her. Whatever makes her comfortable. If she needs them, so be it. Who cares?”
Kennedy scoffs. “What she needs is to have a man snap her spine like a glow stick.”
I let out a moan. “Ooh, that sounds good. I need that too.”
“Wasn’t Shane just here?” Kennedy asks.
I twist my lips. “He’s not exactly snapping my spine. Things are always just okay with him. He’s notthe one.”
I shock myself with that admission. While I’ve thought it internally, I’ve never outwardly expressed it to anyone. I suppose I’ve never had anyone with whom I felt comfortable expressing my inner thoughts until now.
Palmer sighs. “I feel like I’ll never meetthe one.”
Kennedy shakes her head. “Fuckthe one. None of us needsthe one, especially not while we’re so young. I’m not sitting on my ass waiting around. I managed to get myself off this morning and then bought myself a jar of pickles and a quad venti soyextra hot no foam light whip toffee nut latte from Starbucks. I really think I’mthe one.”
Palmer and I both laugh at Kennedy as Noah approaches us all with bags of ice. He smiles at Palmer. “I heard what you were saying. I love your goggles, and I’d love to take you out some time. Would you like to have dinner with me?”
Palmer bites her lip nervously. “Umm…no, I don’t think it’s such a good?—”
He places his uninvited hand on her arm. “Oh, come on. It will be fun.”
She flinches at his touch. “Well…I…it’s just?—”
Palmer is clearly uncomfortable. I’m about to say something when Kennedy smacks his hand away from Palmer and interrupts, “No is a full sentence, Noah. She gave you her answer. Slither away, slimeball. We’re talking.”
He narrows his eyes at her but does eventually retreat to his small wooden desk on the other side of the room. Fuck, he’s creepy.
A skinny black man who looks to be in his forties walks into the room holding a big bag in one hand and a bouquet of Chocolate Cosmos in the other. He’s the epitome of casual, high fashion, with black slacks and a cream knit shirt, clad with a complementary scarf and beret. And it’s summer.
He gives us a warm smile before placing the bag on the table and offering me his hand like I should kiss it. In a slightly feminine voice, he practically sings, “There you are, Sullivan. Bonjour, I’m Carter Daulton’s assistant, LeRond.” Carter is Reagan Daulton’s husband. “She asked me to deliver these to you. It’s this week’s fan mail and the flowers you asked her to pass along when they arrived.”
“Oh, thank you.” I take in the size of the bag. “Wow, there’s a lot of mail this week.”
“There sure is,” he offers. “And you haven’t seen all the flowers and other gifts, girlfriend. The kids at the hospital will have the brightest rooms in existence.” He looksPalmer up and down and hands her a business card. “I would love to make you over. I think there’s a Wonder Woman under there, Diana Prince.”
Before waiting for a response, he swivels around and exits the room. I almost feel the need to clap for him as he goes.
