Done
I guess just ride the clock and wait then. Might take care of some other errands while I’m out if it’s that dead?
Go for it
What am I going to do when you leave me?!? !
I try not to let that get to me, but it’s hard not to when there’s nothing to take my mind off of things. I don’t want to think about the end of summer or the future in any capacity.
So I pull my green claw clip off my apron pocket where I put it after I finished frosting the cupcakes and shove it back in my hair then grab a wet rag and scrub at the counters, tables, and chairs all over again.
The bell above the door dings as the doors fly open, and I glance up then back at the table. “Welcome to Sugar. I’ll be with you in just a second.”
I scrub the spot one more time before I conclude that it is indeed just a part of the marble then wander back behind the counter and wash my hands before moving to the register.
“What can I do for you today?” I ask, tapping the screen and entering my code for the system.
When I finally lift my eyes and get a good look at the man standing in front of me, chest squeezing, I blink a couple times, sure I’ve seen a ghost. But then my eyes adjust, and I realize it isn’t him . It’s his twin.
Bennett stares at the menu with squinted eyes, oblivious to my heart palpitations.
Why is he here? And if he’s here, does that mean…?
His shirt is sticking to his chest and back, wet with what I assume is sweat. His hair is damp, too, sticking out at odd angles as he huffs.
“I want an iced coffee,” he says sheepishly. “Just the coffee. Nothing else.”
I can’t help the small smile that crosses my lips at his apparent embarrassment over ordering a plain coffee. “Sure. Anything else?”
“Make that two iced coffees. Please.”
“Of course.”
I take his payment then get to work on his coffee. It only takes a couple of minutes thanks to the simplicity of his order, and I find myself trying to draw the time out. Just a few minutes.
When they’re ready, I slide them across the counter with a small smile and look over his shoulder like maybe, just maybe, his twin will appear behind him. I almost ask. I almost open my big mouth and embarrass myself by asking about him before realizing how dumb that would be.
Bennett thanks me, a polite smile on his face as he takes his coffees and leaves just as quickly as he came inside.
I stare after him for entirely too long.
“Sienna, I really don’t want to study right now,” I groan into the phone as I try to focus on the muted television. “I have How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days on, and I need to focus on Matthew, Si.”
The receiver crackles for a minute then she says, “You can think about boys when we get to Harvard! Think of all the college boys, Win. ”
“Matthew McConaughey isn’t going to be at Harvard.”
“Well, no, but your future husband could be.”
“That’s doubtful.”
She sighs, “I know you think it’s going to be Winnie and Beckett sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G, but you have to let go of that crush. As your friend, I’m ready to stage an intervention.”
“This isn’t even about him,” I mumble. “I’m over it. Have been. Who’s Beckett?”
“Yeah… You’re not convincing me. Stop drooling over him for two seconds, and you’ll finally snag a boyfriend you can actually kiss and?—”
“Ah! No, stop.”
Sienna chuckles. “Okay, but that means it’s time to get serious about Harvard in a couple months.”
I groan, flopping around like a toddler having a tantrum on my bed. “Si, please. Please, please, please. I thought this was going to be the summer of fun.”
My feisty, red-headed best friend has the audacity to scoff into the phone, and I nearly bang my head on the wall.
“We had fun. Now it’s time to crack down.”
My voice is high-pitched and unrecognizable. “We didn’t have fun! We didn’t do anything other than lay around. That wasn’t the kind of summer you promised me.”
Sienna’s too calm for my liking, and I hate the way she sighs like I’m a child she cannot seem to get through to. “ Winnie, if you want to have fun, don’t go to Harvard, babe. You have to work hard to have nice things.”
“Maybe I don’t want to go to Harvard then.”
There’s silence on the other line, and I regret my words almost immediately. My eyes flicker over to my desk drawer that’s holding the biggest secret I’ve ever kept, and if Sienna’s silence is any indicator, it’s for a good reason.
After a minute, Sienna says brightly, “Don’t be silly, Winnie. This is our dream.”
Our dream.
No. I can’t say going to Harvard and following in my parents’ footsteps is my dream. I don’t even think it’s really Sienna’s, but I can’t worry about her when my world suddenly feels like it is falling apart around me.
“Right,” is all I manage.
She’s silent for a moment. Then, in that same bright voice I hate, she tells me, “My mom just hollered for me, so I’ll text you later.”
“Yeah…”
When we end the call, I don’t unmute the television just yet. I stare at Matthew and Kate playing cards and falling in love, and I imagine it’s me. That something could potentially ever happen to me, but it just seems so unlikely.
My fingers hover over the keyboard, and I tap Cole’s message thread.
What if I never figure it out?
You will.
But what if I don’t? I mean… you still haven’t.
Maybe not. Doesn’t mean I’ve given up on trying though.
Do you think there will ever come a time when you do give up?
No, kid. I’ll hit rock bottom over and over again if it means I can get back up and try again.
Don’t tell Matty but you’re my favorite Fletcher.
I already screenshot this and sent it to him. He’s pretty bummed. I think he’s crying.
Pffft. Go to bed.
I drop my phone to the bed and stare at the ceiling for half a second before I’m jackknifing out of bed and into a pair of sandals. I don’t fix the claw clip barely holding my falling hair, nor do I change out of my thin pajama set. I just grab my phone and make my way to the front door.
Making the short trek across the street and through the bars of the fence surrounding the little park in the dark should scare me. Nothing but the moonlight illuminates my path, and as soon as my feet crunch over the mulch and broken sticks, I feel a sense of serenity wash over me instead of fear.
I maneuver my way around the jungle gym and the seesaw to find the red, two-seater swing set at the back of the park, and I freeze when I see a figure already sitting in one of the swings. His head is bent close to his chest as he rocks back and forth, and his hulking frame looks comical on the tiny swing.
Swallowing hard, I make my way closer, making sure to crunch a few sticks and make noise so he hears me coming.
His head lifts slightly, and my breath catches.
“I was wondering if you still liked this place.”
Inhaling, I cross my arms. “This was my happy place long before you found it, Beck.”
He chuckles and digs the toe of his sneaker into the dirt and pushes off. Back and forth. Back and forth.
He looks different. Of course, he does. It’s been two years, but it’s still surprising. His shoulders are broader, his arms thicker, his legs wider. Everything about him has doubled in size compared to the last time I saw him.
I round the swing set and sit in the rubber seat beside him, and that’s when I notice his hair. He’s no longer rocking a buzz cut. His dark brown hair has grown out enough that it falls on his forehead, wavy and unruly and thick and soft in appearance. It’s such a different look, and it really makes him look the full two years older.
This whole time I’ve been imagining him as the same guy that left for college. The same lean, fuzzy headed goofball.
That’s not who came back.
“What?” He asks softly, whizzing by me then back again.
I shake my head and start a slow momentum, going backwards as he goes forward. “You just look different. I think it’s the hair.”
He huffs out a laugh, drawing my attention back to him. He’s stopped, standing far back with the rubber seat resting on his butt as he ruffles the strands almost like he’s embarrassed by my observation. “Yeah, I need a trim soon.”
Beck’s eyes roam over my face and body, and I find myself trying to shrink under his gaze, taking my own turn to be embarrassed by his scrutiny.
“What?” I finally ask in the same soft tone he had used.
“You look different, too.”
My breath catches, and I can’t do anything other than stare at him, our eyes locked. His blue eyes look black in the night, and I wish I could see the exact shade they actually are for once.
I lick my lips, the question tumbling out of me without permission, “Good different? Or bad different?”
He tilts his head, and I see a dimple in his cheek as a smile ghosts over his face. “Good different, definitely.”
My cheeks heat. “Guess I’ve grown into myself in the last two years…”
Grown into myself? What the heck is wrong with me? Why would I say that ?
“Guess so…” he agrees quietly, eyes flicking down to my chest then back to my eyes again. “How’ve you been?”
Beckett Hale just looked at my boobs.
Holy crapballs .
I chew on my bottom lip for a moment, trying to convince myself that I saw it all wrong.
Finally, I nod and unstick my tongue from the roof of my mouth. “Good. Glad to be graduated I guess. You?”
Beck shrugs, still standing with his swing at the ready. “Also good. Live, laugh, love, hockey, ya know?”
A soft laugh escapes me. “I heard you’re on your way to the NHL.”
“My parents think so. My coach seems to think so, but I don’t know,” Beck admits with a shrug. He doesn’t sound too torn up over the possibility. “That’s the goal, obviously, but I’m just trying not to lose focus.”
“That makes sense.”
“What about you?” Beck asks, a hand leaving the metal chains to glide through his hair. “Where are you headed at the end of summer?”
“Harvard, apparently.”
Beck lifts a brow at my wording. “You don’t sound very enthusiastic or sure about that.”
“I don’t want to talk about the future right now…if that’s okay?”
Beck drops back onto the rubber seat and comes to sit across from me. Not swinging. Just sitting beside me. And I soak up the proximity of his body.
We don’t say anything for a few moments, and I worry that’s just the end of it. That I’ve ruined a perfectly good time by shutting down what should be the easiest topic of conversation ever.
“Ben said he saw you today,” Beck says, respecting my wish to change topics, and I’m grateful. “Said you’re working at Sugar with Gwen Rigby.”
I nod, a smile on my face. “Yeah, I love it–the work and Gwen. We’ve become good friends.”
“She’s always been great,” Beck says casually, and I frown.
“You know Gwen?”
“Everyone knows everyone here, Winnie. Gwen was friends with my sister for a while before Andy entered her rebellious phase.”
Oh.
Scrunching my nose, I push my spiraling thoughts away. Gwen can be friends with whoever she wants, and I’m not idiotic enough to think Beck hasn’t had girlfriends in the past. The possibility of Gwen and Beck being together doesn’t feel outrageous in the back of my mind, I suppose.
He keeps talking, unaware of my swirling thoughts. “What about Sienna? You guys are still friends, right?”
“Oh, no, yeah,” I say quickly then I pause. “That came out weird. I meant, yes, we are.”
Beck chuckles and cocks his head. “No? Yes?”
I let out a breath, trying to relax, and laugh along with him softly. “Yes. We are friends. We just…had a little argument tonight. ”
“Ah…” Beck nods understandingly. “I get it.”
To distract from the topic of me, I search his face and ask, “What about you and Gus? He was always the third in the trio, right?”
Beck scoffs, “Like we’d ever be able to get rid of that guy. He’s like a fucking leech–in the best way. He hooked onto us, and it would take the jaws of life to pry him away at this point.”
I’m laughing so hard at his imagery that I snort, and he smiles at me like nothing has ever made him happier.
“I like making you laugh,” he says gently, confirming my thoughts with soft eyes and a lopsided grin.
He says it like he doesn’t even realize the words have left his mouth, like he’s unaware of the hope he’s giving me. He says it like he has nothing to lose and everything to gain. Like he’s not terrified and trembling in the face of vulnerability.
He says it like that’s just something we say to each other.
And because I am who I am, I release a soft, “Oh.”
Beck ducks his head, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment, and he walks backward like he’s about to hop onto the seat and fly past me. Instead, he sheepishly smiles, “Sorry. That was a weird thing to say.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
He jerks his head up at the sturdiness in my voice, disrupting the otherwise silent night.
“It wasn’t weird, I mean. ”
“Oh,” he says, like we’re volleying the word back and forth now.
I stand up and point toward the portion of the fence I came through just fifteen minutes ago. “I should head home.”
Beck nods and mirrors my pointing. “Right. I should, too.”
I wring my hands together in front of me and open my mouth then close it. I open it again then close it once more. Finally, I ask, “Do you want to walk with me?”
“My mom would actually kill me if she found out I let a girl walk home by herself at night.”
“Well, we wouldn’t want that, now would we?”
Beck nods once and gestures toward the fence again. “Exactly. Glad you see it my way. After you, Winnie.”
“Right… Thank you.”
He chuckles behind me, and I soak up the sound with my back to him, allowing the smile to spread across my face since he can’t see my face. This time both of our feet are crunching sticks and leaves and lost pieces of mulch. We don’t say anything on the short walk across the park.
“Ow!” I yelp, stumbling in a random hole, and my ankle twists slightly as I try to catch myself.
Beck’s arm shoots out and wraps around my middle, effectively pulling me upright, and I wince as I get my feet underneath myself.
“You okay?”
Nodding, I mumble, “Yeah, I think so. Sorry, I’m so clumsy. ”
He huffs, a smile curling his lips. “Don’t apologize. Think your ankle is okay?”
“Yeah,” I say, holding onto his shoulders as I rotate my foot a couple times. “That damn hole… I bet Debbie’s little boy did that. He’s always digging around.”
Beck looks over his shoulder at the small dip in the path, and he shoots me a serious look. “Want to sue? I’ll help you get all the compensation you deserve.”
“Oh, maybe I can finally buy that big motorcycle I’ve been eyeing at Beau’s garage!”
“Will you take me for a ride?” Beck asks, his eyes wide as he sticks out his bottom lip in askance.
I chuckle, lifting my hand to poke at his lip before I can think it through. “Put that thing away, Hale.”
But all I can think about now is the fact that I just flicked Beck’s mouth.
What is happening right now?
It’s then that I realize how close we’re standing. My hands are on his shoulders, supporting myself; and he has a hand on my hip bone, blue eyes darkening in the moonlight.
Dreaming would seem more real than whatever is happening right now. For half a second two years ago, I thought Beckett Hale had finally noticed me on this dilapidated playground but even at sixteen, I still looked like a kid. In the two years since Beck and I exchanged words here for the first time, my flat chest now boasts two round, perky breasts, and my butt has a little extra jiggle to it. My face has lost all of that baby fat, and I finally figured out how to properly dress and style my hair in ways that actually accentuated my features.
Though, taking in my claw clip hanging on for dear life and blue, cotton pajama t-shirt and shorts, this probably isn’t the best example of my progress.
Beckett Hale has changed just as much in two years, too. At eighteen, I thought he was a man but the Beck that was seemingly waiting for me to show up on the swing set in a cut off shirt and a full head of hair?
That’s a man.
He’s filled out so much. Definitely an inch or so taller. His arms bulge, and I wonder if I could even wrap both of my hands around them. Is that why he had to cut off the sleeves of his shirt? His thighs are massive, too, straining underneath his athletic shorts. It’s more than just his body, though. His jaw is more defined with a hint of facial hair he hasn’t shaved yet, like he’s lost those boyish features.
Even his eyes seem brighter.
Eighteen-year-old Beck was so far out of my league. It was a pipe dream to think he might’ve seen me as desirable in the slightest at sixteen.
Twenty-year-old Beck is somehow even farther out of my league. He’s hotter than ever with the confidence and swagger to match, and I’m sure women fall at his feet in Texas. Beyond that, he’s going somewhere with his life; making plans that are bigger than the here and now. He’s accomplished more in the last two years than I could ever imagine.
Beckett Hale has always burned hotter than any flame to me with his blue eyes and dimples. He’s dangerous to my sanity, and now there’s a knot in my belly that tells me the more I want him, the more he’ll burn me.
It’s that thought that makes my hands fall off his shoulders and back to my sides. I take a step back and clear my throat, ready to make an excuse and take off for the fence.
“Winnie–”
“Wow, look at the time!” I say brightly, looking down at my wrist where a watch should be. I drop my arm quickly and release a nervous, breathy laugh. “I should go. Quickly. I need to feed my cat.”
Beck raises a brow, arms crossing over his chest as his lips twitch. “You have a cat, huh?”
“Yup,” I answer, lips popping as I rock back on my heels. I point towards the fence. “He’s waiting for me, so…”
Beck motions toward the opening, a smirk on his full lips. “Right. You should go feed your fake cat.”
“Fake cat? I… Snowball is very real.”
Snowball is Gwen’s monstrosity of a cat. He’s big and orange and vicious. Every time I’m near the thing, he scratches the hell out of me. Snowball is the entire reason I don’t like cats actually.
“Yeah,” Beck snorts. He leans into my space, a glint in his eyes. “I’ve met Snowball, sweetheart. He’s a fucking devil cat.”
The corner of my mouth twitches against my will, and I try to ignore the way my heartbeat quickens at how close his face is to mine. “He is a jerk, huh? ”
“Gwen’s had that cat as long as I’ve known her. He’s always been a dick.” Beck scratches his fingers through his dark waves as he stands back to his full height. He juts his head toward the fence once more. “Come on… The lady says she needs to go, so I should get her back safely.”
I try not to think too hard about the little smile on his face.
When we near the twisted chain link, Beck helps me through by holding the chunk back then he shimmies his big body through the hole, too.
“I remember that being much easier two years ago.”
My smile hurts, butterflies erupting in my belly. “Yeah, you’ve grown a lot in two years. Not the same kid anymore.”
Beck grunts, dusting his hands off on his shorts as we walk. “Better not be. I put in too much work for it not to be noticeable.”
“Is that why you haven't been home since then? Working too hard to leave?”
I’m not sure what possesses me to ask the question as we cross the street, but here we are, staring up at each other on the edge of our property lines. I’m leaning slighting on the privacy fence for support, and he looks around the yard before bringing his ocean blue eyes back to my amber colored ones.
The corner of his mouth lifts, his dimple indenting his cheek. “I think I just needed a break from The Hollow.”
I nod, waiting for more, needing more of an explanation as to why he hasn’t been back. Why he talked to me, acknowledged my presence, and let me believe that he might be a beacon of safety in this park when all along he was just planning to leave and disappear?
He doesn’t owe me anything, but I selfishly want it regardless.
Beck exhales and crosses his arms over his chest, his cut-off shirt shifting so the tan skin on his ribs is on display. There’s black ink there, just barely visible in the darkness, and I wonder just how many tattoos he’s hiding underneath his clothes.
“It’s suffocating here,” he confesses in a rush, like I pried the answer out of him through torture, and I wonder if he’s been waiting to get that off his chest. “There’s so much pressure to live up to all of this potential, and I hate the questions. How am I? Will I be drafted? Am I having fun? Do I have a backup plan? I don’t want to answer a million questions I don’t know the fucking answer to.”
“Betty and Tootsie are the worst, huh?”
Beck chuckles, running a hand through his hair. “They scare me. Did you know Tootsie carries a sock full of butter to beat people with?”
“I heard it was a bag of oranges!”
“It’s probably both. She’s terrifying.” Beck gives a full body shiver, and I grin. “I haven’t come home because summers are still busy with training, and…I don’t know. I guess it’s partially because I love the peace I have being away from this place now.”
His words soothe a part of me that felt in limbo for all this time, but it knots up another part that wishes he’d come back more often.
I push off the fence and rub my hands over my arms. “Why are you back in town now then?”
“I miss this place,” Beck says with a smile and a shrug like it’s that simple. “Magnolia Hollow is home. The people here might irritate and annoy me, but I feel content here.”
I think about the way Cole could’ve left, but he decided to stay despite everyone knowing all of the intimate details of his life. Magnolia Hollow has this magical feeling to it.
You can feel suffocated.
You can feel like nothing is private.
You can feel lonely.
But at the end of the day, you still somehow feel safe and sound wrapped up in the sea breeze and people with good intentions.
A light illuminates the Hale’s front porch, and our eyes cut that way as Gus and Ben come out on the porch, shirtless and sporting wild hair in their matching grey sweatpants. Gus strolls our way, but Ben ducks inside to put some sandals on his feet before jogging to catch up with his friend.
“Neighbor girl,” Gus says, recognition sparking in his face as he smiles. He turns slightly and smacks the back of his hand against Ben’s chest. “I told you it was her.”
“You literally didn’t say anything.”
“Well, I meant to say it. ”
Ben rolls his eyes. “What’s her name then?”
“Irrelevant,” Gus replies easily. He winks at me. “No offence.”
Blinking, I glance at Beck then back at Gus. “None taken?”
Beck sighs, stuffing his hands in his pockets, and my eyes catch on the way the breeze ruffles the sleeve of his shirt. That small tattoo that’s teasing me as it peaks out of his shirt and wraps around his ribs. It looks like curly writing or a small design, but I still can’t tell.
“Ignore him,” Beck says, forcing me to meet his eyes so I’m not caught staring. Though if Gus’ smirk is anything to go by, I’m well past being caught. “I don’t know how he got out of the house. We try to keep him locked up tight.”
Gus looks around like he’s looking for a camera. “What am I? Your secret little werewolf pet?”
Ben pats his head. “Calm down. You know how you get when you get too worked up.”
“Oh, fuck you guys.”
“Why’d you guys even come out here?”
Ben shrugs, scratching his chest as he glances at Gus. “You were gone for a while, and you weren’t answering your phone.”
“Mom was worried,” Gus adds, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder in Ben’s direction, and Ben shoves his shoulder. “Ow, fuck.”
“Gus was droning on and on about you losing the bet already. ”
I cross my arms over my chest, a frown on my face, as I look between the three of them. “Bet? What bet?”
“It’s embarrassing…”
Gus chuckles and slaps at Beck’s private parts. “Little Beck isn’t allowed any action until after the season is over. There’s five hundred dollars on the line.”
Beck sidesteps him and snaps. “Stop nicknaming my dick.”
“I can go for something else?” Gus suggests, smirking. “Can I call it your little hockey stick?”
“No.”
“Goldfinger?”
“No.”
“Little man?”
“What the fuck?”
“Moby cock?”
My brow furrows. “Why not just say Moby Dick?”
Gus barks out a laugh and shoves his fist towards me. I fist bump him hesitantly, wide eyed as Beck scrubs his hands over his face as he groans.
“Winnie, sweetheart?” He starts, his head falling to the side to look at me, and his eyes are pleading. “Please, don’t encourage him.”
“It was an accident, I swear,” I reassure him, chewing my lip to keep from grinning. Sweetheart . God. I try to focus back on the conversation instead of grinning like an idiot at Beck like I want to do. “Um, why did you guys bet five hundred dollars over… that ?”
Gus sighs, stepping close to squeeze my shoulder. “It all started two years ago when Beck graced the great state of Texas with his man meat?—”
“ Jesus Christ .”
“—and he fucked half the campus. Apparently, he’s a generous lover.” Gus winks at me. “He’s been melting panties left and right. Just collecting wet souvenirs.”
My cheeks are on fire. “Oh.”
Ben slaps the back of Gus’ head. “He didn’t fuck that many people.”
“Whole lot of nerve coming from you, anyway.”
“Hey, don’t slut shame me.”
“Then shut the fuck up sometimes.”
Gus sighs obnoxiously, “Unfortunately, I don’t know how.”
Beck looks at me, eyes shining desperately. “Any chance you could forget you heard that?”
“Which part?”
“All of it.” Beck licks his lips, his fingers tangling in his wild hair. “He never stops talking shit.”
Beck doesn’t deny it though. The validity to his statements, and while I know Gus is probably being hyperbolic on purpose to get the best reactions, the idea that Beck has been making his way sexually through campus while I’ve been daydreaming of him any chance I get makes my stomach turn uncomfortably.
It shouldn’t matter.
He’s allowed to have sex with whomever he wants. Beck isn’t mine. Never has been, and never will be. He’s a crush; simple as that. My hot, next door neighbor that would never look my way if he wasn’t forced to by our proximity.
Maybe that’s why I force a smile on my face and say, “Forgotten. It’s okay, though. It’s not surprising that you’re…living your life in Texas.”
Beck frowns like he doesn’t like my response. “I didn’t fuck my way through campus, Winnie. Promise.”
“You don’t need to explain yourself to me.”
“Maybe not, but?—”
“But nothing. We’re all adults here.” And I smile at Ben and Gus who look just as uncomfortable as I feel. Clearing my throat, I tilt my head to my house. “I should get inside.”
“Winnie…”
“Maybe we’ll see each other again before the end of summer.”
Gus looks confused. Bless his heart. “It’s a small town, so I think we’ll see each other everyday of the summer.”
Keeping my grin plastered on my face proves to be a feat, but I manage even when it begins to feels more like a grimace. “Right.”
Beck swallows, flicks his eyes towards his friends then angles his body in front of me so he takes up all of my focus. “We should exchange numbers.”
“We should?”
Beck grins, lopsided and boyish. He scratches the back of his head as I stare at the dimples on his cheeks. “If you want. Here, give me your phone.”
I’m operating on autopilot as I slide my phone from the waistband of my shorts and pass it to Beck. He taps the screen then holds it out to me for the password, and I type it in quickly, still trying to catch up my brain up on what’s happening.
When he holds it out to me again, his smile is brighter, a little more confident and charismatic, and my heart feels too loud, thundering in my chest obnoxiously to see him looking at me that way.
“There,” he says. “Now you can text or call me anytime you want.”
“Why?” The question sounds utterly confused even to my own ears, and Beck’s smile drops slightly. “I mean… Do you want me to text or call you?”
Beck stares at me. His blue eyes roaming over my face like they did in the park, and I shift on my feet, squirming under his attention.
“Yeah,” he finally answers. “I do.”
A door bangs open behind me, and I startle, a gasp falling out of me as I spin around to see my mother’s angry face staring at the group we’ve formed at the fence. I watch her brown eyes take in my pajamas and disheveled appearance, the boy’s lack of clothing, and Beck’s proximity to my body. Her eyes darken in anger as she tightens her robe around her body and steps out.
“Winifred Hart,” Lorelai hisses, my back going ramrod straight at the use of my full name. “Get in this house right now.”
Without a backwards glance at Beck, I murmur out a quiet goodbye to the boys and hightail it into the house. I move toward the stairs quickly, hoping I can get to my room, and to safety before she can say anything, but I only make it to the second step before she’s grabbing my wrist in a painful grip and spinning me around.
“Why the hell are you talking to those boys? Have I not made it clear that you are not allowed to speak to that family?”
I nod quickly. “Yes, ma’am.”
Lorelai pulls me down the steps, her grip tightening slightly. “That family is no good, Winifred. You’ll leave those boys alone. Do you hear me?”
“Yes ma’am.”
My voice is quiet and resigned. It’s only when she finally releases me, and I’m tucked away in the safety of my bedroom, that I allow myself to inhale as I fill my lungs completely and let it back out shakily. My eyes drift down to my wrist, red and irritated where she’d grabbed me, and I rub my fingers over the sensitive skin.
I flop down on my bed, and pull out the clip hanging by a thread in my hair and toss it to the floor fighting tears that make me feel silly.
Pulling out my phone, I initially click on Sienna’s message thread then remember our little spat on the phone and decide to leave that one alone for the night. Instead, I scroll a little farther down and click on Gwen’s name.
You awake?
Finishing up a crazy new flavor that came to me in a dream.
What’s up??
Oh, yum… Nothing’s up. Can’t sleep.
Everything okay?
Is this about Beck again?
NO!!
I regret telling you about my crush on him.
But…maybe. I saw him tonight after we talked.
He looks good. College has been VERY good to him. Did you drool on him?
NO. Not much anyway lol.
Well you’ll have plenty of time to drool and stare since he’s finally home for the summer
You’re not supposed to encourage my crush, Gwen. You’re supposed to be the voice of reason.
Uh, I am. I think you should go for it!!
It’s a silly crush!!
Well maybe he has a silly crush on you too. Y’all can have silly crushes on each other.
My mom would kill me
UGHHH gotta do something for yourself eventually, Win
And that’s supposed to be Beck?
Could be if you fucking let it