Chapter 19
QUINN
Ichecked my reflection in the window of Jameson’s Key Cutting store, retying my hair to fit better under the cap, remembering the way Miller had fixed my ponytail, the way the roof of my mouth had tingled.
I wanted to feel that sensation again, but it didn’t seem to work with my own fingers.
I opened my bag, thankful for the lip balm and cologne spray I kept in there.
Spritzing myself, I took a deep breath, wondering if Miller would be working with me today.
His house had been in darkness as we drove by and no motorbikes had passed us on the way here.
I tried to tell myself I didn’t care if he did or not, but lying to yourself is such a weird thing to do.
I hope Miller isn’t here today because I literally look like I just got out of bed!
I hope he’s not working in case Noah or Lara turn up again and Noah opens his big mouth.
I hope he’s...
The Hamlin truck drove up and a thrill raced through me to see Miller driving it. I raced over and opened the passenger door, jumping up into the seat.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey, what’s going on? Where’s Shayla? Is she okay?”
“Her baby is coming.”
“What? Now? It’s not due for another two weeks.”
Miller shrugged. “Guess it’s not waiting. Mr. Hamlin called me last night and asked if I could come pick up the truck.”
“It’s just me and you working the stand?” The weight of responsibility seemed impossibly huge, but strangely, I was excited.
“Clarissa’s coming, but she’s getting a ride with her mom. And she can only stay a couple of hours.”
“O...okay.”
“You’ll be all right?” Miller nodded to a box on the seat. “All the stuff is in there.”
“I hope I remember everything,” I said, opening the plastic container. There was a list of instructions, a cash box and price list.
“You will,” Miller said confidently, “you did great last week.”
I cast a sideways glance, suspicious of his kindness, but he said, “All good?”
“Yeah, I think so,” I said, watching as he checked the mirrors and drove off.
I read through the list over and over, committing everything to memory, and in my head I pictured the layout of the crates and vegetables. I folded the sheet of paper and returned it to the box, prompting Miller to ask, “Everything okay?”
I nodded, becoming aware of the radio playing in the background. And yes, I’d been avoiding Miller all week, but we were stuck together, just the two of us, and it would seem really weird if I didn’t talk for the whole journey. And I was naturally curious too.
“Uh, how did you get the farm truck?” I asked.
“I rode out there.”
“On your motorbike? That must’ve been an early start?”
“Yep. I just kinda rolled out of bed when the alarm went off.”
“I was so tired, I hit snooze, and then I was running late and in a mad panic.” The words kind of just flowed without any connection to my brain.
Miller laughed. “I think I barely got five hours sleep.”
“We’re gonna need a coffee run as soon as we get there.”
“Oh yeah,” he said, “I’d say so.”
“I think I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow last night.” What was happening? Why couldn’t I control my mouth?
“Well, I’m not surprised. You were snoring in the van on the way back to school,” Miller said, his eyes firmly on the road ahead.
“What? I did not! I don’t snore!” I protested.
“Oh, you were snoring,” Miller insisted, a smirk on those full rosy lips of his. Heaven knows why I was noticing the shape and color instead of telling him to shut up. There was no way I snored!
I shifted closer and punched his upper arm. My knuckles stung a little, his muscle firmer than I was expecting. “I have it on good authority that I don’t snore.”
“Good authority?” He sounded amused.
“Yes, I’ve been on many sleepovers and was never told I snore.”
“You either had good friends or they’re liars,” Miller said.
I froze, quickly changing the subject. I wasn’t sure I could even classify my old friends as friends anymore. “Ah, do you know what time Clarissa’s coming? I think last week it was real busy around 10ish.”
“Not totally sure,” Miller said, “hopefully earlier than that.”
I leaned back a little and took a calming breath. I needed to settle down and not get carried away, which clearly I had. Safer to stick to potatoes, carrots, beets and onions— though trying to make riveting conversation out of vegetables was a bit of a stretch.
Once we arrived, Miller and I wasted no time in setting up the stand, even forgetting to get ourselves a coffee. Though who needed caffeine when fueled by adrenaline. I set up the card reader and cash box, ready for the influx of customers.
Like last week, the beginning was slow, but momentum built and Clarissa arrived just as it got busier. The two of us served while Miller restocked the crates and carried bags of potatoes for customers. Time flew with barely a chance to sip on my water bottle.
“Can you take a twenty pound bag for this lady please?” Clarissa called out to Miller who was behind us stacking empty crates.
“Sure, no problem,” he said, hoisting up the bag as if it was light as a feather. He followed a young lady who was carrying a baby in a backpack and pushing another one in a stroller.
“I’m just parked over by the...” I heard her say to Miller, whose eyes met mine for a second.
He smiled, those lips curling up, and I don’t even know if it was at me or at the lady and her little baby.
Whatever, it put me in such a fluster that when I looked back to the row of people standing in front of me, I had no idea who I’d been serving.
“A bag of carrots too, dear?” A little old lady wearing a silk scarf dropped me back to earth and I regained my senses, though why my heart was racing was beyond me.
The mini rush subsided and because Miller hadn’t come back yet, I turned around to grab more paper bags. That’s when I heard Clarissa ask, “Hi, can I help you?”
“You can’t, but maybe she can.”
I spun around, coming face to face with Celeste, Naomi and Lara. There was a beat of silence where I waited for Celeste or Naomi or both of them to yelp in excitement, to go hysterical over our reunion.
But Celeste’s face was staunch and sour liked she’d sucked on a lemon, and she was staring at me like I was her worst enemy.
It was Naomi who broke the ice. “So, it’s true then? Lara said you were working here.” She looked down at the crates of potatoes that separated us. “Potatoes? Really?” And giggled. “Quinn at a potato stand? How quaint.”
It hadn’t escaped my attention that there had been no greeting, no simple hey, hi, hello. We hadn’t seen each other for over two months, since before I went to my father’s place for the summer, and I sensed I was about to be vilified by my supposed best friends.
Celeste mouth tightened and her lips pursed. “You couldn’t even tell us the truth,” she spat in a low voice and in my peripheral vision, I noticed Clarissa step away. “Noah was right, wasn’t he? Your family’s business went bust and you’ve lost all your money. That’s why you left Brizendine, right?”
I stood there in a dazed stupor, her words the complete and utter truth.
She had every right to be mad at me, I couldn’t refute her statement.
I was guilty as charged. I hadn’t told my friends that my family was broke.
I’d done it to save face, for Mom, to protect her from the shame and humiliation.
But now Celeste and Naomi were mad at me.
“I...I...,” I whispered, my lip trembling, “I’m...sorry. But Mom didn’t...want anyone to know.”
Celeste’s face exploded into one wide grin.
“No, of course she didn’t,” she said, triumphantly holding up a small white satchel.
“Mulberry,” she said crisply, her freckled nose scrunching.
“Nine hundred dollars, brand new. Though I see you can get a second hand one online for $300.” Her eyebrows lifted and she smiled like she was in an advertisement for toothpaste, “That’s if you don’t mind someone’s used bag. ”
My throat thickened and I couldn’t have spoken if I’d wanted to.
“Times must be pretty hard, huh?” Celeste flashed a smirk at Naomi and Lara.
“I mean, if Annabelle Devereaux is selling her prized handbag collection online, you guys must be desperate. Guess your allowance is kaput now too.” She eyeballed me with a ferocity I didn’t think my friend was capable, a look of pure hate.
“No money for makeup? Or you just rocking the farm girl look?”
I bit down on my lower lip to restrain my quivering chin, the sting of her words about to reduce me to a blubbering mess. And yet, she had every right to be annoyed with me, to be angry, because I had lied. Lied by omission. It was the same thing.
“I’m...I’m sorry,” I spluttered, my voice squeaking with emotion, “I really am. I miss you guys so much. But I couldn’t tell you anything. Everything just fell apart so fast.”
Celeste huffed out a sharp, cold laugh, her tone dripping with venom, “You mean you didn’t trust your best friends enough to tell us the truth?”
“No, it wasn’t that,” I said, “I couldn’t say anything...for Mom’s sake.”
Celeste scoffed in outrage. “Oh, don’t give me that. You chose not to tell us.”
“That’s not fair,” I pleaded. “Mom’s been so stressed and she made me promise not to say anything. I didn’t want to make things worse for her.”
“So our friendship meant nothing to you?” Celeste’s eyes flashed. “So you pretended it was all to do with your parents getting a divorce and all of our plans for senior year, homecoming, prom, spring break, college tours...meant nothing?” She threw her hands out in frustration.
“No, that’s not true,” I said, “our friendship means everything. It hasn’t been easy, Celeste.
I’ve been trying to hold it together, to keep our friendship going, but you kept shutting me out.
I came to Pine Ridge hoping to stay over and you just..
.” My voice shook as I recalled that weekend, my misty gaze including Naomi, “...you both ghosted me.”