Chapter 2
TWO
It should be illegal to sleep in twin-size beds after college. My limbs were all stiff and in need of some good stretching. Despite all of that, I knew I was lucky. My room was untouched, a time capsule waiting for me to come back for time to restart.
No matter how many times I bitched and moaned to my parents that I wouldn’t come back or tried to convince them to move away, deep down, we all knew this would always be home.
As I lay in bed, I wondered if all my favorite spots were still the same or if the years had changed them, making them just memories. My first stop would be the bakery. Hopefully, in the years I had been gone, someone learned how to make a decent cup of coffee around here.
I could hear some rustling outside, and I knew one of my parents was already up and ready for work.
It was an understatement to say they had been excited when I showed up. My grand plan had been for me to show up with my car in tow and be all like, voilà, I’m back.
But then being dropped off by Tyler Kane was like some sort of personal attack on my being.
My parents—bless their hearts—thought this meant the end of our feud. For some insane fucking reason, they still adored Ty. My father had squeezed the living daylights out of me, kissed my temple, and then said, “I’m glad you and Ty worked it out, June bug.”
Oh, the betrayal.
I guess it was my fault for never telling my parents exactly why I was pissed at Ty.
Then again, it was embarrassing to admit aloud I had fallen in love with my best friend when he only ever saw me as a friend.
People would say I was overreacting because he didn’t feel the same way I did about him, and I’d rather not deal with their pity.
After washing my face, I searched for whichever parent was home.
My dad did electrical work, so his pay was always good, and my mom liked to keep busy, so she had a job at the factory a few towns over.
Our house was now paid for, and although we didn’t have many luxuries, I never went without the essentials.
Because of my education, my parents weren’t rolling in dough. I owed them everything. And I loved the fact that they never said anything about my journalism degree. They didn’t try to get me to do something more practical. They just wanted me to be happy—the perks of being an only child.
Finding a job right out of college was basically trying to find a fucking unicorn. I didn’t have any connections or experience, so jobs never called me back. Now that I wasn’t living on a school plan, my expenses started to pile up, and my little part-time job waitressing no longer cut it.
It was on a whim—really.
The Willow Grove Herald was not my dream job, and I applied out of desperation more than anything.
Imagine my surprise when they called back for an interview.
I didn’t let myself think on it much, or else I would have been too much of a chickenshit to come back to a town where at one point, everyone hated me.
Okay, everyone was a bit of a stretch—but everyone in my graduating class was pretty spot-on.
“Are you up, sweetheart?”
“Yes, Mom,” I replied.
She had her lunch bag already in hand while she held on to a tumbler in the other.
“I got to run. There are some leftovers in the fridge. Ty said to give him a call so he can pick you up. Love you, sweetheart.”
My mom was in a rush so she didn’t see the stank face I made when she mentioned Ty-enemy.
I had nothing against my mother’s cooking, but I missed going to the bakery. The idea of walking into town did not appeal to me at all—but if I did that, I could get myself a slice of cake and a pastry.
Fuck it.
If I was back sooner rather than later, people would hear about it. I’m sure my mom and dad would start telling people I had come back home. It was time to grab the bull by the horns.
One didn’t go into journalism without being prepared to step on a few toes.
The only problem so far was that my wardrobe was very limited. My weekend bag only contained a pair of jeans, a blouse, and undergarments in case I had to stay overnight in a hotel.
Luckily, my car decided to quit on me once we got into town.
If I had the extra money, I would hit it with a bat. How dare ol’ Bertha leave me at Tyler’s mercy? She couldn’t have waited to have its little tantrum down the street from my house?
Deciding to focus on cake and pastries, I grabbed my pair of flared jeans and my black long-sleeve blouse. At least I had the decency to bring my most flattering pair of jeans with me. They made my ass look phenomenal.
Once I was changed, I grabbed my purse and headed toward Elm Street. It was about a fifteen-minute walk, but one must endure anything for a good snacky snack.
A smile spread across my face as I stepped into Elm Street, which wasn’t technically a street, at least not for the last ten years since they renovated the area, hoping to attract more tourism.
What used to be our main street was more of a big cul-de-sac.
A fountain with trees and benches was located right in the middle.
Around it, you had some mom-and-pop shops, Delicia’s bakery, which I couldn’t wait for, city hall, two restaurants, and the practice for the local doctor.
Everything was conveniently located, and it was the spot to be after school.
The huge willow tree provided shade in the summer, and anything you might want for a snack or a bite to eat was right within reach.
The locals referred to this as town square.
It wasn’t much, but this was home.
As I made my way toward Delicia’s , I looked around the shops and noticed that most were the same, but there were a few that I didn’t recognize.
A smile spread across my face as I walked through the door of the bakery. Fuck, the smell was heavenly. It looked the same yet different at the same time. The bread was still on glass shelves, but I could tell they added a new counter, and I gasped when I saw what was being offered on the menu.
The excitement over pastries and drinks was enough to distract me from the fact that I would be heading to Kanes’ Auto.
As I was browsing the bread shelves, a pretty older lady came out of the back.
“Good morning,” she greeted me, and I instantly smiled.
I had always loved her heavy accent. Grabbing a tray, I grabbed a pink concha and headed toward the counter.
The sweet bread’s name came from its crust looking like a shell.
Lupe, the owner, had three different flavors.
The yellow crust was just plain vanilla, the brown was chocolate, and the pink one sometimes tasted like strawberry, depending on if Lupe was up to doing the extra work—sometimes, she just dyed the flour.
“Hey, Lupe, long time no see.” I beamed at her, and the instant her eyes locked on mine, she did the same.
“Astrid,” she said my name, and I loved the way she rolled the R when she said it. “You’re finally back!”
I tried not to grimace at that statement.
The words finally and back together were not sitting all that well with me. It made me feel like a failure even though I accomplished what I set out to do. Regardless of the fact that journalism was a dying career, but we weren’t getting into that.
“I see you now have boba. How cool is that?”
I pointed to the picture, trying to change the subject.
That’s the thing I loved about my time away, no matter how it ended, because I got to go out and experience a bit of the outside world. Being exposed to so many cultures was amazing. It was cool to see all of them through social media and the internet, but to live them—it was something else.
“Luna came back from school obsessed,” she stated. “Then she proceeded to complain that not much had changed in the six years she had been gone. I told her to show me a recipe and I could make it for her.”
They offered three flavors. Brown sugar, strawberry, and horchata.
I loved horchata and I loved boba, so why the hell not try them together? “I’ll take a horchata milk tea.”
Nothing in this store had ever steered me wrong.
Lupe was a great baker, and her shop did amazing in this town because everything was one hundred percent authentic to her culture. On the weekends, she sold warm quesadillas made from homemade tortillas. To this day, it was the best quesadillas I had ever tasted.
“Thanks, Lupe,” I told her as I grabbed my order.
“Come back soon, mija !” she yelled as I walked out.
Ignoring the fact that I currently held more sugar than I needed in a week in my hands, I made my way to the Kanes’ auto shop. Anger burned sugar, right? It sounded about right in my head, so I carried on eating and drinking in the hope that all that sweetness would mellow me out.
Next to the bakery, there was this quaint little shop that had not been there before.
From what I remembered, the space was small.
When I was little, there used to be a little movie rental store.
They had a good selection of DVDs. Then the digital era came, and it closed shop.
Through the years, it just sat there as a storage facility for the city to store its equipment for holiday events.
Now, it had a little narrow window that displayed crystals and herbs. I peered up at the building, and it looked like some kind of tarot store. Pretty plants hung from the ceiling, and the vines came down to the floor, making the peek you got inside seem magical.
The lighting inside was darker, so I couldn’t see much from the well-placed counters by the window. On the ledge, there was a coffin felt letter board. A pretty black-and-gold foiled tarot card with stars and swords was taped at the top. They had put the card upside down. It read: Five of Swords.
Underneath the card, there was a message. It’s time to let the past resentment go and start making amends.
What the fuck.
I don’t know what kind of negative energy that shop had, but I wasn’t claiming it. They clearly had no idea what they were talking about, and that did not resonate with me at all.
The pep to my step was gone, and I was stomping my way to Kanes’ Auto. The stupid tarot card did not let me enjoy my concha .
The horchata boba was a hit. Although I did fuck up in not asking for water because now I was thirsty and angry, and the sugary drink was not helping.
Soon enough, I was at the auto shop. The three garage bays were closed, it was not like I would have gone through there either way.
As much as I didn’t want to, I walked around to the front entrance.
The place has had a paint job since the last time I saw it.
There wasn’t a car in the front, which sucked because I would have liked to use someone as a human shield.
Please don’t let Ty-enemy be there.
Taking a deep breath, I pulled myself together, then opened the door and walked inside. In an instant, I felt lighter when I saw Adam Kane at the counter. He was easy to recognize since his hair was lighter than his brothers’.