2. Chase
CHAPTER TWO
CHASE
“ T orture. That’s what this is. I thought we were friends, but this ? Unforgivable.” Hunter huffs as he looks out the car window, face scrunched tight.
“We didn’t know how to tell you.” I hold back a chuckle as I drum my hands on the steering wheel. “Besides, Fort Bender’s got some cool things going on. Give it a chance.”
“I’m looking for the things … There are no things ! A tree. Another tree. A third tree ,” he groans. “We’re in California! Where’s the beach? The sun? The beach ?”
“I said there’d be camping…”
“Yeah, but I thought you meant on the beach !” His voice raises in pitch the more frantic he gets, green eyes widening as I laugh at the ridiculous tone his voice has reached.
Hunter and I have been friends since he was born. I’m a year older, but that bit of age difference hasn’t stopped us from being close. Our families are close too. We’ve vacationed together for as long as I can remember. This year, his dad picked Fort Bender and Hunter is stressed .
“It could be worse,” I say, switching the radio station. “We could be stuck working that EdTechU convention booth again. At least this place has some character.” Our dads met in college, where they started a small educational technology company called EdTechU. It’s grown to be one of the largest tech support firms in the country. It’s always been my dream to work for the family business, and now that I’ve graduated, I’m ready to embark on that journey. All I want to do this summer is take it easy and have a good time in this small town which, according to my best friend, is the worst thing in the world.
“I’m just saying, you could have warned me,” Hunter continues, his short dark curls swaying against his light brown skin as he shakes his head.
“I sent you a map, details for our volunteer hours at camp, and the rental info. What more do you need?”
“Bruh, a beach! ”
We turn down Main Street, and the ocean comes into view. “There’s your beach,” I offer, pointing straight ahead. This view of the Pacific Ocean is amazing. Paired with the overcast sky, it seems like the perfect place to relax this summer.
“Nope.” He juts out his jaw. “That’s the ocean with a bunch of cliffs and rocks. The beach has sand and sun and?—”
“Some bikinis?”
“They can wear whatever they’d like,” he says, a smirk sliding across his face. “I can appreciate it all. I’m just saying, I didn’t sign up for a dry summer.”
I’ve known Hunter long enough to know he’s not upset about the beach, so much as who usually frequents the beach. He rotates through relationships as quickly as he refreshes his timeline. I don’t relate to that approach.
“Think of it as a palate cleanser. Take the summer to clear your head before next semester’s flings. Besides, there are interesting people in small towns. Maybe stop thinking with your di?—”
“That’s easy for you to say. You’re Mr. Charming wherever you go. You could make friends with a plastic spoon if you wanted to. I don’t have the patience for that.”
Charming . This isn’t the first time someone’s called me that. Sure, I make friends easily and like meeting people from all walks of life. I follow the Golden Rule and try to help when I can, but I don’t set out to dazzle people with my personality. I just try to be a good person. If that means I have charm, then so be it.
My stomach growls, and I glance at the clock. We haven’t stopped to eat real food since we got breakfast on our way out of LA, and a person can only eat so many granola bars. “Hey, look up some restaurants around here,” I say abruptly. “We still have an hour before check-in.”
“Restaurants in NoBeachTown, USA. Got it,” he says, exaggerating the tapping of his thumbs on the screen. “There’s a Rosa’s Pizzeria, Seaside Tacos, Nando’s Fish & Pasta, SandWishes Deli, and?—”
“Patti’s Place,” we say simultaneously as I spot the large building straight ahead. It’s a rustic-looking diner with weathered wood siding and dark stained trim along the roof. It looks more like a cozy cabin than a diner. The words Patti’s Place sit right above the entrance in bold white block-style font, and a giant neon red sign blinks the word DINER in the parking lot.
Hunter looks up and shrugs. “Sounds good to me.”
A bell tinkles overhead, signaling our entrance. The place is nearly empty. It’s around two o’clock, and only a few patrons sit at the counter.
“Hey, guys! Seat yourselves. I’ll bring menus in a sec,” the waitress booms from behind the counter. She’s a short woman, probably in her mid-fifties, with dark brown hair. Glasses hang onto the tip of her nose, and she wears a navy-blue apron with the name Patti on the pocket. “Bert, you ready for that pie yet?” Her voice projects across the counter as she looks toward an older man in suspenders.
“Don’t rush me, Patti!” Bert shakes his head and grumbles, “I’m retired now. I can take as much time as I want.”
Patti chuckles and grabs the pie tin, slicing and dishing up a hearty piece. She sets the plate in front of Bert and winks, saying, “I’ll just leave this here for whenever you’re ready. ”
Hunter heads toward a booth, eyes down at his phone while he walks. I take in the decorations around the eatery as I follow behind. Sepia photos of surfers and framed news articles of people fishing cover one wall, while brown and white striped surf boards are anchored along the other. The booths sit along large windows, and the brown vinyl seat squeaks as I ease onto my side of the table.
Patti sets down two glasses of water and plastic-covered menus. “You here for vacation?” she asks.
Hunter nods, and I smile at her. “Yeah, we’re here for the summer. I’m Chase,” I say—reaching for her hand—“and this is Hunter.”
I kick his foot, and he pops his head up, offering a thin-lipped grin.
“You must be the famous Patti. It’s a nice place you’ve got here,” I say, winking.
With a chuckle, she grabs her apron at the corners and gives a small curtsy. “Well, aren’t you a charmer! I sure am Patti. Here for the whole summer, huh? You must be staying in those fancy long-term rentals at The Bluffs. Where’d you come from?”
“We drove up from LA this morning,” I say, nodding.
Her eyes widen as she says, “Los Angeles? Bender’s a different world than what you’re used to, then.”
“Yeah, it is.” Hunter snorts, suddenly interested enough to add to the conversation. “A different universe…with no beaches…”
“Well, welcome to Fort Bender. I’ll give you a few minutes to decide.” She beams a smile before walking away.
“Bro,” I say, kicking his foot again.
“What?” He kicks me back.
“Would it kill you to talk to people?”
“Yes,” he says flatly, eyes fixed to his screen.
My stomach rumbles again, and I’m flipping through the last of the menu pages when Patti returns. Only it isn’t Patti’s voice that says, “What can I get for you?”
The scent of spiced vanilla overtakes my senses as I look up into the boldest jade-colored eyes I’ve ever seen. My jaw drops before I can catch myself, and warmth spreads through my cheeks. Straightening up in the booth, I kick Hunter and try to regain some composure.
“Bruh, kick me again…” he warns before looking at the new waitress.
“Um.” I clear my throat and pretend to look back at the menu.
“You’re not Patti…” Hunter says, interest piquing. He quirks an eyebrow and smiles, moving the phone to his pocket.
“Sure, I am,” New Patti says. She shifts on her feet and tips her head to the side. A few dark locs frame her deep bronze face, the rest pulled up into a swirled bun. “I’m Patty with a Y . You met Patti with an I before,” she continues with a lilt of humor.
The sound of her voice is enough to set my heart pounding. It’s smooth and warm, and suddenly, my throat is dry, like I’ve never tasted water. I reach for my glass, unable to look away, and almost knock it over. Hunter flicks his eyes to the table, making sure I don’t need help with the cup. As I gulp for relief, I glance at the top of her apron. Sure enough, Patty is spelled with a Y .
“Stay here long enough and Pattie with an IE will show up too. But you probably want to eat before the dinner rush, so…what can I get you?” She taps her pen on the rose gold ring on her thumb. The worn green polish on her short fingernails is nothing compared to the color in her eyes. She’s breathtaking, and it’s becoming more apparent that I’m staring. I look down at my menu again and take a deep breath, ready to order. My heart pounds in my ears, making it hard to hear my own thoughts.
“I’ll take the bacon cheeseburger, fries…and your name for my friend here.” Hunter smiles, ignoring another kick under the table. “Your real name. I’m Hunter, by the way.”
Patty puts a hand on her hip. “I’m Patty,” she insists, her smile slipping for a second. She turns to me and asks, “And you?”
“I-I’m Chase,” I stammer. People don’t generally make me nervous, but something about the cool confidence she carries herself with has me in knots. She sends another smile my way, and my internal dashboard short circuits. I’m done for. Death by dazzling smile was unexpected, but what a way to go.
“I meant, what can I get for you?”
“Oh, hmm,” I hesitate, trying to buy the time my mouth needs to catch up to my thoughts. “I’ll take the chicken Caesar salad,” I manage to squeak out.
Patty nods and grabs both menus. “Anything else to drink? More water? I have a pump out back, directly from the Pacific if you need it,” she teases, gesturing to my mostly empty glass. I nod, trying to think of the words yes , please , or thank you , but none of them come to mind before she’s heading back to the counter to fill up a pitcher, shaking her head and laughing to herself.
“You good? Need a little pep talk? You know how great I am at talking to people.” The smart-ass smirk on Hunter’s face makes me shake my head.
My heart’s pounding is returning to its normal pace, and I chance a look behind the counter. I can’t help but notice the curve of her waist as Patty balances a tray full of plates on her hip, clearing the dishes left by Bert. I’m intrigued, enthralled, and I can’t look away. Another deep breath and I realize my fingers are tapping on my knee, exploding with the anxious energy I feel. She turns, looking back toward our booth, and damn it, I’m still staring.