Page 30 of Summer Ever After
“Let me give you a ride home. I’ve got the car today.” Tara held up a set of keys.
The late afternoon sun was beating down on us, and there was no way I could refuse a ride home in the air-conditioned comfort of Tara’s Honda Fit. I didn’t tell her about the invite from Jessica, it didn’t matter anyway, I was going to stand her up and probably never see her again.
Tara rambled on about Trey while I stared out the window. Of course, Max would be back in Laketown. I don’t know how I expected to go the entire summer without running into him, it was a town of four thousand people after all.
I fingered my necklace, a gift from my dad on my tenth birthday, a gold necklace with a gemstone representing him, my mom, and me, along with my initials on the back. Only the stone representing me, a ruby, was gone. I couldn’t bring myself to take it off though. One day I’d replace the ruby, but until then I still felt like I had them with me.
Back at home, I bypassed the trailer and slipped into my shed. I flicked on the oscillating fan and flopped onto my bed, pulled out one of my textbooks, knowing that I would be asleep in seconds. It would act more like a blanket than a book.
But, instead of sleeping, I tossed and turned. Then I did something that I never thought I’d do. I slipped into the trailer. “Christina,” I shouted.
The shower was running and Nickelback was blaring. That meant Christina was home and would be in the shower for at least thirty minutes. I tiptoed into her room, found her cell phone – and called in sick for my last day of work at the factory.
EIGHT
DAISY
Even before Icould see the Stone Oven, I could hear it. Someone was singing a Bon Jovi song, and not well. I smiled and cringed at the same time as they attempted one of the high notes. Guilt gnawed at my guts about bailing on my last night of work, but my supervisor didn’t seem to care when I told her that I wasn’t feeling well.
I slipped the ten speed into the trees next to the entrance grabbed the hem of my t-shirt at the back and tried to waft some fresh air up my back. It had been a hot summer day that had turned into a hot summer night. The last pink of the sunset lingered on the horizon over Sugar Peak. The lake was flat and the moon was already rising, casting a white line across the reflective surface.
My fanny pack hung across my chest and I patted the front pocket, feeling for the roll of cash I’d tucked in there before I left, leaving the majority of it hidden in the bottom drawer of my dresser in the shed. Taking a deep breath, I headed up the stairs in the direction of the off-key rendition ofDead or Alive.
“Identification?” A bouncer the size of a refrigerator stood in the doorway.
“I’m twenty-three.” I shot him a smile, hoping that he would step aside. My driver’s license was in the glove box of Christina’s car.
He crossed his arms and widened his stance. “And my name is Cleopatra.”
“I’m meeting some friends here. My license is in the car. I promise. I’m twenty-three.”
His eyes softened. “I believe you, but I can’t take your word for it. If your identification is in the car, I can wait.”
Tears welled in my eyes. I swiped angrily at them with the back of my hand. Crying at the door of the bar wasn’t exactly a mature thing to do and wasn’t helping my cause. I felt like a little kid at the height measurement board at an amusement, crying because I couldn’t get on the roller coaster. “I rode my bike.”
He turned his hands up and shrugged. “I wish I could help you.” He put his hand to his mouth as though he was sharing a deep dark secret with me. “Trust me, you’re not missing much. There will be someone butchering classic rock here every week for the rest of the summer.”
I sighed. “If you see Jessica Starling could you tell her that I was here?”
His eyebrows raised. “Jessie Starling?”
“I was supposed to meet her here.”
He rubbed his chin with his hand. “You swear that you’re twenty-three.”
I nodded.
He stepped aside. “Bring your identification next time.”
“Seriously?”
“Hurry up before I change my mind.” He gestured for me to enter like a butler. “And next time, lose the braids, you look like you’re fifteen.”
“Thank you.” It came out as a gush.
He shook his head. “Kids. Don’t make me regret this.”
“You won’t.” I patted his arm.
