4. FOUR
FOUR
Vera
I hurry out of the kitchen, almost glad for Riley’s shithead behavior that gave me the excuse to make a quick exit. Being alone with Bas is dangerous. Since leaving Mosswood to go to college, I’ve tried my hardest to get over him. I really have.
Turns out I might as well not have wasted my time with all those mediocre flings and disappointing one-night stands because as soon as I saw him standing there in the doorway looking solid and a little bit mournful, I just wanted to climb him until I could wrap my arms and legs as far around him as I could and never let go.
I really hope my perfume trick worked to keep him in the dark about my stupid one-track mind.
My whole family gave me weird looks when I came downstairs doused in the cheap drugstore scent I got deliberately for this purpose, and I don’t blame them.
The stuff’s been eating at the inside of my nostrils all day, but if it works, it’ll be worth it.
I’m at the foot of the stairs when Mom’s voice freezes me in my tracks like I’m ten all over again.
“Where do you think you’re going, young lady?”
“Oh, I thought lunch was done.”
“Yes, so it’s time for Pictionary. Get in here.” She pats the sofa beside her.
There’s nothing for it, so I slink into the loungeroom and take my place as first Riley and then Bastien join us. I glare at Riley while Mom’s not looking, and he has the good grace to whisper, “Sorry, Ver.”
I do not forgive him.
“Kids versus adults,” Mom says.
I’m almost grateful my phone starts to buzz in my pocket right then. I scoop it out in a hurry and jump up. “It’s the college. I have to take this.”
Mom gives me the look, but I ignore it, ducking out onto the patio and closing the door behind me. It’s cold and my breath ghosts out in front of me, but I don’t mind. It was too hot in there by the fire anyway. The crisp air kisses my cheeks as I lift the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Hi, is this Vera Ballard?”
“Yes, that’s me.” Is this about my mentor? I can’t help smiling a little at the prospect of starting my internship, even if it’s not in Black Pines Park with the mentor I would have picked if I could choose for myself.
Nope. Not doing that again.
“I’m glad I caught you. Sorry if I’m interrupting.”
“No, that’s OK.”
“I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news. You were due to start your internship next month with Emily Christianson, but she’s had some health complications, and we weren’t able to find you a replacement on short notice at this time of year.”
“Oh.” What does that mean for my graduation? I’m about to ask when the man on the other end of the line continues.
“I’m sure you’re wondering what the ramifications are, and I’m afraid it will hold up the completion of your final semester. Don’t worry. You won’t need to repeat any courses, but you will need to do the internship before you can graduate.”
“I see.” Damn. That means more time paying rent for my place on campus while I wait around in limbo.
Then an idea occurs to me. I wouldn’t impose, but the sooner I can finish the course and graduate, the sooner I can start working, and if Mom’s MS really has progressed, there’s every chance treatment costs could increase.
Dad might need some support. “What if I can find my own mentor?”
“Well, if you know someone, that would be a good solution.”
I chew my lip. Will he say yes? I already know the answer to that.
Things between us might be strained, but Bas is still Bas.
He’d do anything to help out my family. Is it a bad idea to spend two weeks alone with him day after day?
Undoubtedly, but this might just be the only way I graduate on time.
“Yeah, I think I do. Can I call you back in half an hour?”
I hang up the call and stand in the cold a minute longer, working up the courage to do what I need to do next. Then I return to the living room with my brightest smile on my face, but the game has already started.
Bas is drawing on the whiteboard while Riley tries to guess what he’s drawing. “Sailing, boat, fishing, fisherman.”
Bas shakes his head emphatically, scrubbing out what he was drawing and starting over. The buzzer sounds, and Mom and Dad jump in. Family rules say after a minute the other team can steal.
Admittedly, he’s not the best artist in the world, a fact he always overplays whenever we play Pictionary. But I don’t think he’s as bad as Riley always makes out.
I think about what he was drawing earlier. Riley was guessing nautical items, but I don’t think he was drawing a boat at all. It was a straight line with something waving from one side. More like a flag than a sail.
Bas draws a squiggly outline, and Riley throws up his hands. “Come on. What is that? A cookie? A puddle?”
Dad jumps to his feet. “Bakery. Cake. Rain. Mud.”
Mom is holding her belly and laughing, and Bas casts me an imploring look over their heads.
I don’t even have to think about it. The answer just comes to me. “Country.”
Everyone except Bas, who is already looking, turns to look at me, but I’m not watching them. All the tension leaves his face, and he lets out a sigh of relief. “Country. Got it.”
“What?” Riley flops back onto the sofa with a groan. “How the heck did you get country from that?”
I flush because maybe it wasn’t as obvious for anyone who hasn’t spent every spare second watching and thinking about Bastien. I point to his drawing. “Well look, that’s clearly America—” I twist my head to the side. “Or maybe Canada—and the other one was a flag.”
“Right,” Bas gives me an astonished grin, and I practically float back to my place on the sofa.
“Oh, well done, cookie.” Mom pats my leg. “Now what was that phone call? It had better have been important?”
Gotta love inquisitive parents. But I do need the kick in the butt. I clear my throat. No time like the present. “Yeah, so it turns out my internship placement fell through. My mentor got sick.”
“Oh no.” Dad gives me a conciliatory smile. “That’s OK, pumpkin. They’ll find something else for you, right?”
“Well, the thing is, they said there wasn’t anything. Not unless…”
“Unless?” Bastien’s voice sounds loud in the sudden silence, but he barely whispered.
I know he knows what I’m about to say, and I plunge on as if I’ve already taken the dive off a huge cliff and am just waiting for the icy water to hit.
Oh god, I was wrong. He’s going to say no.
He’ll find some reason to let me down gently, and then I’ll have nothing; and not only that, I’ll have to live with another rejection from the kindest guy I’ve ever met.
I force the words out. “Unless I know someone.”
My words hang in the air between us for a heartbeat, but Bas doesn’t even get the chance to answer before Mom breathes a sigh of relief. “Oh, well that’s easy. Oh, Bas, you’ll take Vera’s internship, won’t you? Help her graduate on time?”
His cheeks color a little, and his eyes narrow as if he’s trying to ask me a question silently.
“Bas?” Mom is like a werewolf with a bone.
“Do you want me to, Vera?” He thinks I wouldn’t want that? I can’t fully process why Bas would think I don’t want to spend two weeks up close and personal with him. Unless he has been feeling guilty about that night all along…
I don’t have time to speculate because everyone is looking at me, probably wondering why I haven’t answered yet.
“Yes! I mean that would be amazing, but you don’t have to.” Please don’t say no, I say with my eyes.
He smiles. “Well then, of course I will. Just tell me what I have to do. I’ve never taken on an intern before.”
“Thank you. You’re the best. I’ll get the college to send you the paperwork. Does the first week in January suit you because I have to be done by February?”
“Yeah, that should work. Better make sure you have a warm pair of boots and some thermal underwear. Gets cold up in the park this time of year.”
“You realize it’s super weird you talking to my sister about her underwear, right?” Riley chips in.
“Shut up, loser.” I throw a cushion without looking, which hits him in the face. “Thanks, Bas. You’re the best.”
His cheeks deepen in color, but his smile is genuine, and that’s a big comfort. Somehow I think the cold is going to be the least of my problems during the internship.
I guess I’d better go stock up on that terrible perfume at the drugstore because my hormones are going to be on overdrive being around him all day, every day, and I’m in as much danger as ever of pining hopelessly after him like that lovestruck eleven-year-old did all those years ago.
Come to think of it, it’s practically a sauna in here. I pull off my sweater, but I still can’t keep the heat from rising up my neck and the restless energy from making me want to squirm in place. “Come on. Whose turn is it?” I say, just for a distraction.
Thankfully it works and soon everyone is too focused on what Dad is drawing on the whiteboard.
Everyone except Bas, who keeps casting looks over his shoulder at me until I get the weirdest feeling he’s nervous about this too.
Only that’s ridiculous, isn’t it? Because my big brother’s best friend has no reason to be nervous about the girl he thinks of as his kid sister trailing around after him for a couple weeks.