by Amy Sparling
I glance over at Grandad and find him smirking while eating his cookie. My dad is an only child, so the only two granddaughters are me and Kyndall. I can’t believe this quiet, intimidating old man has talked about me to his friends.
“Er… the sweet one?”
“Cool.” Jeremy expertly shuffles the deck of cards, and they make a satisfying whoosh sound. “Nice to meet you.”
I glance over at Grandad again and he winks at me. I’m not sure what’s crazier—that my broken heart is suddenly swooning over a guy I just met, or that my Grandad is smirking like he planned for this to happen.
Four
The passing of another week solidifies my new routine. I work on summer school and come out for meals and that’s it. The only slight difference is that sometimes I’ll gaze out of the French doors in my room and think about Jeremy. Not that it matters because he’s just some guy I won’t see again after the summer, but it’s nice to have something else to think about besides my heartbreak.
One morning, Grandad suggests that I spend some time enjoying the beach, but I politely decline. The boredom of the last few days made me break down and check my cell phone more often and that’s just brought me down lower than before. I am the laughing stock of my high school.
Destiny texts me occasionally and tells me not to worry. She says some other video will go viral soon and no one will care about me anymore. It’s hard to believe her though because Lane’s breakup video has over half a million views and it’s only been two weeks. Plus, it’s much easier to tell someone not to stress out when you’re not the person on the video.
I ignore everyone but Destiny, and my dad, who calls once a day to check up on me, and I throw myself into my summer school work. Even with all the reading and videos and worksheets, I’m still not any better at Chemistry than I was before. This is a hard subject and my brain just doesn’t get it. I’m not like Kyndall, Miss Straight A’s her whole life. I’m not really good at anything, now that I think about it, and that just makes me more depressed.
In the morning, I wake up to the sound of metal scraping on metal, instead of the smell of bacon. I get dressed and venture into the small kitchen, finding Grandad bent inside the oven, a toolbox open on the floor.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
He sits up and wipes his brow with the back of his hand. “Stove is broken. I’ve had it almost twenty years and it doesn’t look like I can fix it. I guess it’s about time for a new one.”
“I’m sorry,” I say as my stomach grumbles.
Grandad stands up and drops a wrench back in the toolbox. “Get some shoes on. Let’s go out for breakfast.”
I want to tell him that it’s fine, I’ll just eat cereal or toast or something, but Grandad isn’t the kind of guy you want to disagree with. We head outside and get in his truck. This is the first time I’ve ever been in a car with my grandfather. Even after two weeks, it’s still totally awkward because I’ve spent so much time alone in my room.
Luckily, the drive is a short one, and soon we’re walking up to the Star diner, a retro-looking place that has a neon light in the window advertising that they’re open twenty-four hours a day. The smell of breakfast and coffee makes my stomach rumble and I can’t wait to eat something. We sit at the bar, on shiny red barstools, and order our food from a waitress that looks like she’s trying really hard to fit the stereotype of “retro diner waitress.” I dig it, though. Sterling Beach has this whole tourist town vibe and I kind of love it.
I also love that Grandad is a quiet person just like me. He sits next to me, sipping his coffee and he doesn’t feel the need to chat incessantly or bother me with awkward small talk. This goes on peacefully for about three minutes, and then the smell of perfume washes over us.
“Look who it is!” Jan exclaims as she takes the barstool next to Grandad. “The world’s worst poker player and his lovely granddaughter.”
I laugh and Grandad just huffs. She had beaten him again last week, taking five dollars from him this time. They play with money, but only in quarters and dollar bills so the wagers are never too high.
“Well that’s a little unfair,” a voice says from beside me. Jeremy slides onto the barstool next to me, bringing the scent of his earthy, citrusy body wash with him. “We don’t know if he’s the worst poker player in the world, but we do know he’s the worst one in Sterling Beach.”
He smiles at me and my heart jumps. I think I smile back.
The waitress brings our food and gives both Jan and Jeremy a look. “You two are so mean when you get together!”
Grandad chuckles. “It’s all in good fun. For all they know, I lose on purpose to make them feel better.”
Jeremy orders the French toast and asks our waitress to make sure that Hayes cooks it for him because apparently, he’s the best cook on staff. After she brings his order to the back, a tall guy with a shaggy mop of curly hair pokes his head out from the kitchen and waves at Jeremy. They look about the same age, and since this is a small town, they’ve probably known each other forever. Something tells me the French toast thing is a frequent occurrence between them.
Beside me, Grandad is talking about his broken stove. Jan mentions that she can get him the family discount at an appliance store in town.
“But I’m not family,” Grandad says.
“But I am,” Jan says with a grin. “Come on, let’s go now and they can have it installed for you by tomorrow. We can walk there.”
He’s finished with his breakfast, but I’m not, so I don’t really want to leave just yet. But he doesn’t ask me to leave. Instead, leans over me to talk to Jeremy. “You mind taking her home?”
“Not at all,” he says, flashing me a smile that makes my heart jump.
Grandad nods. “I’m going to go appliance shopping. See you later, Hadley. Have fun with Jeremy.”
And then they just leave. Just like that, Jan and my grandfather walk outside and head to the appliance store, leaving me sitting here next to Jeremy. For all I know, he doesn’t want to hang out with me. I can’t believe Grandad did that.
“You don’t have to hang out with me,” I tell him quickly. Might as well let the super hot guy off the hook early.
He shoves a bite of French toast in his mouth and lifts an eyebrow. “You don’t want to hang out with me?”
“No, I said… you don’t have to hang out with me.” My nerves are on overdrive right now. I still have half a plate of food left but I’m suddenly no longer hungry. When I look into Jeremy’s eyes, all I can see are Lane’s eyes that day when he dumped me while filming the whole thing. Boys can’t be trusted. Maybe I should run outside and try to catch Grandad before it’s too late.
“Yeah but—” Jeremy points his fork at me. “You would only say that if you didn’t want to hang out with me.”
I’m silent for a moment, wondering what on earth I’m supposed to say to that. But then he cracks a grin and takes another bite. “I’m just messing with you. For spending the summer at a laid-back beach town, you are totally on edge all the time.”
“I’m not on edge,” I mutter, while I stir the scrambled eggs around on my plate. Of course, he’s only seen me twice at poker nights and I spent both of those nights sitting quietly at the poker table.
Jeremy looks like he might want to disagree with me, but then he shrugs and goes back to eating. I try not to stare at his scar. It’s not horrible or anything, just prominent. A long jagged slash of scar tissue that runs from just under his eye to the bottom of his sharp jawline. I want to ask where he got it, but I also don’t want to be a jerk. I know first-hand that it’s not fun having people ask you about something that was a bad experience.
“So where are you from?” he asks.
“Texas.”
“Ah, cowboy land.”
I roll my eyes. “All Texans aren’t cowboys, you know. I’ve never even been on a horse.”
He grins, and it makes his scar wrinkle in a way that’s not so scary. “How long ar
e you staying here?”
Some of my appetite has come back, so I take a bite of bacon. “My dad said I’ll be here the whole summer, but I have this plan to beg him once a week to let me come home early. Maybe one of these days it’ll work.”
Just like Lane, Jeremy is also a fast eater. His plate is empty just a few minutes after he got it. I take a deep breath and force the thoughts away. I might be in a total boy-hating mood right now, but it’s still wrong to compare Jeremy to Lane. I’d bet all the coins on Grandad’s poker table that Jeremy has never recorded himself breaking up with a girl just for the internet fame.
A little wrinkle forms between his brows while he studies me. “You make it sound like being here is a bad thing.”
I shrug one shoulder. “It kind of is a bad thing.”
“But you’re at the beach! How could you not love it here?”
He’s bringing up a good point. Normally I love the beach. Normally I love summer. But I’m not about to admit that right now. I shrug instead. “The beach is dumb.”
He balks, putting a hand to his chest like I’ve just royally offended him. “Are you allergic to sunshine, sand and fun?”
“Maybe.”
He frowns, and it looks cute on him. Actually, I’m pretty sure everything looks cute on him. “Is something bothering you?” He nudges me with his elbow and a sparkle of electricity floods through my body at his touch. “You can tell me if you want. I’m a great listener.”
I try to give him a side-eyed glare, but when his eyes meet mine, I end up smiling. “You’re a stranger.”
“That makes me an even better listener.” He reaches into his wallet and leaves a ten dollar bill on the table to cover his food.
“I don’t really see the logic in that,” I say, nodding to the waitress when she asks if I’m done with my food. Then I swivel in my barstool stool until I’m facing him. “Most people live by the philosophy that strangers are untrustworthy.”
Jeremy bites his bottom lip, then runs a hand through his hair, making it stick out in sharp brown points before it sags back down again. I notice his arm tattoo for the second time. It’s beautiful, like a real-life watercolor painting. Blues and purples and greens splash across his skin in the shape of a big dog paw print.
“Well, sure,” he says, turning to face me. Our knees touch. “If you’re talking about your regular run of the mill stranger, they’re untrustworthy. But I’m not one of those strangers.”
I cross my arms over my chest and give him a look. “How so?”
“I’m a close personal friend of your grandfather.” Jeremy wiggles his eyebrows, knowing he’s totally won this round. “He trusts me, so by extension, you should trust me too.”
I open my mouth to retort something sarcastic, but I’ve got nothing. When Jeremy grins at me, there’s this tiny little dimple in his left cheek. This is not good. I have moved beyond just admiring him as attractive. I’m totally crushing on him now. And that can’t happen.
I clear my throat. “I don’t need a ride home. I was actually hoping to get some exercise in, so I’ll walk back.”
He frowns. “You sure?”
I nod and play with the sugar packets on the bar. “Thanks anyway.”
“Okay.” He drums his fingertips on the table and then stands up. “Have a good day, Hadley.”
I’m startled by his sudden desire to leave. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I didn’t want to hang out with him but now I kind of don’t want him to leave. “Yeah, sure,” I say trying not to look like I care. “You too.”
He holds out one hand in a wave as he walks away. “See you tonight.”
Tonight. It’s Friday.
I don’t know why his words, the promise of seeing me later, sends a shiver of nervous excitement through me. But I need to squash those feelings immediately. I’m not some fun, flirty girl eager for a summer fling. I’ve had my share of guys for the year. Maybe even for the whole decade. I can admire Jeremy’s good looks from afar, but that’s ALL I plan on doing. This stupid little crush ends now.
Five
I stare at the laptop screen, my heart jumping around nervously in my chest. The final exam had been a fifty-question multiple choice test with an hour time limit. I finished with just a few seconds to spare. I read every question carefully, took my time, and did my best. And now, all I have to do is click on the link that says GRADE to know if I passed the exam, and thus passed my summer school course. If I did, I’ll officially be a senior. If not… well, I don’t want to think about that.
My teeth wear into my bottom lip and I move the mouse pointer over the link. I close my eyes and click.
87.
I got a B! More than a B… B plus!
I get off my bed and dance around my room. That 87 is the highest grade I’ve ever had on a chemistry test, and I have definitely earned it. Three weeks of sitting in this bedroom on my computer, working my butt off has totally been worth it. But it was so very hard. Hopefully I can go the rest of my life without ever doing chemistry again.
I fling open the bedroom door. “Grandad!” I call out.
“Yes?” he calls back.
It sounds like he’s out on the porch which is where he spends a lot of his time, sitting alone and watching the ocean, occasionally reading a book or the newspaper. I go outside and feel the mid-afternoon sunshine on my face, smell the clean, fresh ocean air. “I passed my Chemistry class,” I tell him.
His stoic expression shifts into a slight smile. “Good for you. You worked hard on it.”
With my quick burst of excitement over, I realize I’ve never talked to him about my summer school. I know he knows about it, because my dad told him, but this is suddenly very awkward.
“Okay well, I just wanted to tell someone.” I smile at him and then slip back inside. My grandad isn’t as scary as I used to think he was, but he’s not exactly super friendly, either.
Back inside my room, I’m still bursting with joy over finally finishing all this stupid school work. I call my dad and tell him the great news.
“Good job, Hadley.”
I stare out the windows in the French doors in my room, sad that I don’t have a good view of the beach from here, just a great view of the house next door. “So, do you think I could come back home now?”
“Why would I think that?” Dad asks, the annoyance evident in his voice.
“I finished my summer school. I passed it. I’ve been punished enough, trust me.”
“You seem to have forgotten that your failing grades weren’t the only reason you were sent there for the summer. If you come home now, you’ll be right back with the bad influences that made you go to your cousin’s party.”
My teeth clamp together. “Dad. I didn’t party. I don’t know how many times I have to say that. Why won’t you believe me?”
“When you’re a parent and you walk in on your teenage daughter passed out drunk, then you can tell me why I don’t believe you.”
I’ve never been drunk in my life. Not that it matters. I bet Grandad would believe me if the same thing happened here. I let out a frustrated groan.
“I’m not in the mood to listen to your backtalk,” Dad says angrily. “Enjoy the rest of your summer and maybe you should think about what you did and how you can take steps to behave better when you get back home.”
He hangs up and I toss my phone on the bed in frustration. I am not a bad person. I’m not a bad friend, and I wasn’t a bad girlfriend. I might suck at chemistry but that’s all. I don’t drink or do drugs or party. I’ve never snuck out of my house or lied to my dad or anything and yet I’m being treated like one of those terrible kids who go on talk shows and scream at their parents.
I just want to be home in my own town, in my own house, in my own bed. Not this stupid room that has all of my dad’s old stuff in it, including his uncomfortable super ancient twin bed.
I drop to the bed and reach out for my phone as the reality of my situation settles over me. Ever since I got here, I
wanted to go home. But home isn’t exactly great right now, either. Home is where my step sister is constantly better than I am. It’s where all the people at my school are still laughing over my breakup. It’s where my ex-boyfriend is, reveling in all his newfound internet fame. I had planned out a wonderful summer with him before he broke up with me. We were going to go on romantic dates and watch the stars at night and go swimming in his backyard pool. I was so excited for summer to get here so that we could hang out more.
And all he was excited about was dumping me on live video.
“Hadley,” Grandad calls out. “You have a visitor.”
A what?
For the briefest second, I imagine that Lane is here, with a camera crew and they tell me I was the star on a TV show about pranking girlfriends into thinking they were dumped on TV. But of course, that’s not going to happen. Even if it did, I don’t think any amount of apology would make me forgive Lane for what he did.
I venture out into the living room to see what Grandad is talking about. I shouldn’t be surprised when I see the tanned, gorgeous guy with mysterious scars standing there. He’s got that beachy surfer look going on, like always. This time he’s wearing red board shorts and a white T-shirt that has the sleeves cut off, revealing sculpted muscles and another scar at the top of his shoulder.
“Hey,” he says, flashing me a quick smile. “I have a slight emergency and I really need your help.”
I lift an eyebrow. “What kind of help can I give?”
“Don’t be rude,” Grandad says. “Go help the boy.”
Not wanting to get on his bad side, I slip on the sandals I keep by the front door and follow Jeremy outside. He doesn’t say anything as he jogs down the stairs.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, following him down to the driveway.
“Hopefully,” he says. “I just really need your help.”
There’s a teal scooter motorcycle thing parked next to Grandad’s truck. It looks like it’s seen better days. The paint is worn and chipped, and the leather seat is cracked. Its only redeeming quality is that the wheels look brand new. Jeremy hands me the helmet that’s hanging from the handlebars.
