Ah crap.
Tears. Those were definitely tears. “Are you crying?”
I didn’t mean to sound so horrified. But I was horrified.
“No, of course not,” she said as she swiped at the tears. “It’s raining. Or didn’t you notice?”
I looked up at the roof of my car. My mom had taken the boys in our only decent car, so I was stuck with the clunker that broke down more often than it ran. I had problems. No doubt much bigger problems than miss ‘it’s so hard to find good help’ over here. And yet, I heard myself saying it before I could stop myself. “If you want to talk—”
“I don’t.”
“Okay, fine. I’m just saying, if you ever need anything—”
“I don’t need your help.”
The way she said it felt like a blow. I jerked back at the harshness in her voice, but the sadness in her eyes gutted me. “Got it,” I forced myself to say.
“I don’t,” she insisted. Clearly she didn’t believe me any more than I believed her.
“Of course you don’t.” I’d said it too mildly and watched as her eyes narrowed in response. But it did the trick. The sadness was replaced by annoyance, and maybe just a flicker of amusement at my mockery.
But, as if she realized she’d been amused at the same time I did, she paused with one hand on the door. “And I don’t need…friends.” She made a face like the word was hard to get out.
“Good.” I repositioned my hands on the wheel and kept my gaze straight ahead. Definitely not on the clothes that were clinging to her or the hair that was a disaster and just begging to be brushed back behind her ear. “Because I don’t do friends.”
“Of course you don’t.” She rolled her eyes, but she wore a little smile as she reached for the door. “So, look...I’m, um…” She looked out the window at the rain before turning to me with a look of resolve. “I’m sorry about the other day.”
I arched a brow as if I didn’t know exactly what she was talking about. “The other day?”
She narrowed her eyes and I couldn’t help it. My head fell forward with a laugh as she cursed. “Do I really need to spell it out for you? I was a jerk.”
“Yeah, you were.”
She lifted a shoulder, somehow giving off an utterly unapologetic vibe even as she apologized.
“So, wait, that’s it?” I said. “Aren’t you going to try to convince me you’re not really an entitled spoiled brat or…”
“Oh no. I am.” She gave me a cute little wink that on anyone else would have looked awkward and weird. “I’m just saying sorry I didn’t recognize you as the help right off the bat.”
I sort of choked on a laugh because...this girl. Seriously. She was unlike anyone I’d ever met, and for the life of me I couldn’t tell how much of this spoiled diva routine was an act and how much was real.
And I hated the fact that I wanted to know. Like, very badly.
“What do you say?” she asked as she stepped out into the rain. Leaning down to face me through the open door, she wore this grin. This wide smile that transformed her features and made her seem so much softer. It also made her whole body light up. It made her glow like she was sunshine and lightning and everything in between, and I…
I had clearly lost my mind. No one glowed, let alone like lightning. I shook my head to clear it. “What do I say about what?”
“Truce? I stay out of your way, and you stay out of mine.”
A huff of laughter escaped. “Deal.”
Five
Isla
My deal to keep my distance from Flynn was easier said than done. Over the next few days at school it became alarmingly clear that we had many classes together. And as he was a loner who liked to sit by himself in the back, and I had no desire to make friends in this town when I was sure to be on my way home in a matter of days…
“Do you need to borrow my book?” he asked in English class.
Ugh. He sounded like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Like he was offering up a kidney and not a beat-up copy of a depressing novel.
“Could you possibly sound more put out right now?” I shot back.
He smirked. “A simple thank you would suffice.”
I narrowed my eyes. Cocky jerk. Always smirking. So sure of his hotness. So confident in his place in this tiny little goldfish-bowl of a world.
He handed over his copy of Catcher in the Rye. I’d read this one for school last year and hadn’t seen the point in getting a new copy, since I’d hated it the first time around. But for the pop quiz today, I kinda needed a copy.
Jerk.
Okay, fine, so maybe it wasn’t his fault that I wasn’t prepared. But the guy had a way of being around every time I was in the midst of a predicament.
Or worse. Crying.
Ugh, I hated the fact that he’d seen me cry.
I never should have gotten in his car. I never should have spoken to him at the wedding reception my first day in Lindale.
There were a lot of things I wish I could do over after finishing one horrid week in this town. But most of those regrets revolved around this guy.
I should have apologized better. I should have said thank you just now. But it was like this guy’s smirk, the knowing look in his eyes—it had some sort of trigger affect on my temper.
I flipped open to the page I needed to reference and tried my best to ignore him.
It was impossible. The guy was everywhere, and he saw everything, and he took up way too much space in my brain.
Worse? Logan was taking up no space whatsoever. Or rather, I clearly wasn’t on his mind. I mean, I always knew he was sort of an out-of-sight-out-of-mind kind of guy. He was just like that. He was very...in the moment.
And if you weren’t in the moment with him?
Well, even now my fingers were itching to pull my phone out and see what pictures my friends were posting. To see if Logan had finally texted me back.
I refused to text again.
I wasn’t about to look pathetic.
But why the heck wasn’t he texting me back already?
“Hey, uh…” Flynn leaned over in my direction. “If you could avoid tearing apart my book while you’re borrowing it, that would be great.”
I looked down to see that I had in fact been abusing the already cracked and torn copy. “Sorry,” I muttered, more to the book than to Flynn.
I had nothing against books. Flynn, on the other hand…
“Do you need it back?” I glanced over at his quiz, which he’d scrawled all over.
“Nah, I’m done.”
“Already?” I arched my brows in surprise. Everyone else in the class was still hunched over their papers.
He shrugged.
Okay then. Good talk.
I rolled my eyes and turned back to my paper, focusing on the questions in front of me right up until the bell rang. “Keep it,” he said, when I lifted my head while scrambling to find the quote I’d been looking for to fill in my last answer.
“Oh, um, thanks.” But he was gone, halfway to the door by the time I got the ‘thanks’ out there.
I finished up my answer and grabbed my bag, my phone buzzing right as I picked it up.
Logan.
Sure enough, he’d finally texted and it was to say, call me. Sure there was a smiley face emoji and a heart, but the ‘call me’ made my stomach twist.
Call me. The two words seemed to taunt me as I stuck my phone in my back pocket and hurried down the hallway toward the parking lot. Today was a fitting and rehearsal day at Mrs. Messner’s and Callie had offered to give me a ride.
I was the first one out there and my heart was frantic in my chest as I tried to figure out what that ‘call me’ meant.
Did he just miss me?
I couldn’t bring myself to believe that. Sure, I knew Logan was into me. We’d had terrible timing, that was all. Freshman year he’d been dating Samantha and then sophomore year I’d been in an on-again-off-again thing with Logan’s friend Ryan
. And then junior year Logan had gone off to spend a year in Switzerland with his mother. But this was supposed to be it. Our year. We were finally both on the same page…
Or we would have been if we were in the same town.
But whether he liked me or not, Logan wasn’t exactly the type to sit around and pine. Even if he wanted to, the other girls in our class would never let him. As Taylor liked to say, Logan was prime meat. He was the one guy every girl wanted. And I’d had him.
Until my dad went totally psycho.
Didn’t my dad see how he was totally screwing everything up?
He was the one who was all about appearances. He was the one forever reminding me about how perception was everything. He should have been over the moon that I’d finally snagged the guy everyone knew would be homecoming king. Which would have made me a shoo-in for homecoming queen. Which would have made my mom happy for years to come.
So I’d gotten into a little trouble. My dad knew better than anyone that a girl had to do what she had to to fit in. No goody-two-shoes were ever invited to the best parties, or sought after by guys like Logan. And they certainly didn’t rise to the ranks of homecoming queen.
“Are you all right, Isla?” Callie asked as she drew close to the car.
I hadn’t realized I’d been pacing and muttering to myself until Callie and Willow drew near, with Savannah following close behind.
“Fine,” I said.
Willow’s brow creased in concern, and Savannah gave me a cursory look before asking no one in particular, “What’s wrong with the new girl?”
My answering sneer was lost on Savannah as she climbed into Callie’s passenger seat, letting me and Willow cram into the back of the old clunker. Her car managed to make Aunt Lucy’s look like a Ferrari.
From what I knew of these three, they had an odd sort of relationship. Friends, in a sense, but at school they went their own ways. They had their own lives. My guess was, if they didn’t have the princess troupe tying them together, they’d never have been friends at all.
Savannah and I had exchanged little more than a ‘hi’ and a ‘hey’ since Callie had forced her to come say hello to me in the cafeteria the day before. I’d gotten the feeling I was dragging her away from her way more important social calendar—and when she’d looked at me like I was a speck of dirt?
It had not endeared her to me.
The fact that in return I’d looked down at her knockoff ankle boots and snickered with disdain?
Well, I was guessing the feeling was mutual.
Which was fine. I wasn’t here to make friends. I shouldn’t even be here at all.
Frustration had me clenching my hands into fists. I’d officially lost control over my life. All my plans, all my goals, all my dreams were fading out in a blink. I was fading out in a blink. My mom had called to check in every other day this week. Like clockwork, which was how I knew it was on her calendar. But the calls were short, and her promises to get me back home were growing more and more vague and far less convincing than when I’d been standing right in front of her.
Dad hadn’t checked in at all, and Mom said he was having a crazy week at work, so that explained that. He’d forgotten about me. It happened often enough that I didn’t need her to sugarcoat it or make his excuses.
But even Tayler hadn’t picked up when I’d tried to video chat last night, and Logan had been MIA all week. Up until...call me.
My heart was in my throat as my brain went into overdrive thinking of all the possible things he might say. Like, he’d decided to ask someone else to homecoming. Like, he’d started dating someone else. Like, he’d forgotten all about me and wanted to see who this girl named ‘Isla’ was who kept texting him.
“We’re here,” Callie called from the driver seat, as if it wasn’t immediately obvious.
The small townhouse was one of few that lined the town’s main street, and there were costumes hanging in the front window.
“She runs the party business out of her house,” Willow said, as if I couldn’t figure that out.
“And she rents costumes when they’re not in use, so if I were you, I’d take home the Dorothy dress and wash it ASAP.” Savannah barely looked at me as she said this, striding ahead of us all like she owned the place.
I tried hard not to think about who might have worn my costume before me. “How are you all sure I’m going to be Dorothy?”
The three girls exchanged looks before opening the door and letting out a cacophony of showtunes. “Because none of us would touch that role with a ten-foot pole,” Callie finally explained.
“Seniority is everything in this troupe,” Savannah said with the sort of snotty attitude that told me she was the most senior of them all.
“Fine.” I shrugged. “I don’t care.”
Willow winced. “You might when you get stuck as Merida.”
“Who?”
“Exactly,” Savannah said. “Or Elsa. I hate being Elsa. Although, the tips are pretty decent if you can pull it off.”
Callie frowned. “I love being Elsa.”
“That’s because you can sing,” Savannah pointed out.
Willow turned to me. “They always expect Elsa to sing Let it Go.” She frowned. “I hope you can sing. Can you sing?”
I nodded.
“Mrs. Messner said she’s a legit actress,” Callie said, all defensive on my behalf, which was sweet but totally inaccurate.
“I’m not really a professional, or anything,” I started.
Savannah dragged me into the house because apparently we weren’t moving quickly enough for her liking.
Willow caught my eye and explained. “She doesn’t like people to know that she works for the troupe.”
Savannah huffed and turned back with a flick of her hair. “I just don’t feel the need to announce the fact to the rest of the school. It’s none of their business.”
I kinda wished I could judge her for this, but I got it. I so got it. If anyone from home found out that I was playing dress up for cash, I’d never hear the end of it.
“Okay, so if I’m filling the dreaded Dorothy role, who are you all supposed to be?”
“Ah! There’s my Glinda,” Mrs. Messner called out as she strode toward Savannah with a pink prom dress in hand.
“Last year I was the lead Munchkin,” Callie said. “But since there are no boys in our troupe—”
“Not yet,” Mrs. Messner interjected. “I’m working on it.”
“Right, well, until then,” Callie said with a grin, “I’m going to be the scarecrow.”
“And I guess that makes me the Tin-Man,” Willow said.
Mrs. Messner smiled over at me. “I’d rather hoped Flynn would be the cowardly lion since Savannah really needs to be Glinda.”
I nodded as if that made sense.
Willow leaned over. Apparently she’d appointed herself as the troupe’s translator. “Mrs. Messner writes little”—she waved a hand—“skits.”
“Flynn will never do it,” Savannah said.
She said it with such authority that I glanced over at her with a surge of...what? What was this sensation?
My chest was too tight, and my stomach churned. Savannah was pretty. More than pretty, if I were being honest. And while I’d never really seen her and Flynn spending a ton of time together at school, the way she was talking about him now—like she knew him so very well—it made me wonder.
And it made me snap. “Why not? What, is he too cool to wear a lion’s costume?”
“Yes.” His voice behind me made my whole body tense and then catch fire. I swung around and caught the cocky smirk I knew I’d see before I’d even seen it. He held up a camera. “But mainly because I’m already on duty as a photographer.”
“Aren’t you catering, too?” Savannah asked, heading over to him.
I watched the two of them closely, a feeling that need not be named slithering in my gut and making my skin crawl.
“I’m gonna help with setup and cleanup,
but he’s got one of the other guys working the actual party. I’ll help him out when I can.”
“Which one?” Callie straightened. “Roman?”
“Yeah, I think so.” He shrugged, not seeming to notice that Callie’s eyes were as wide as saucers. “Maybe?”
“So wait, you’re working two jobs at the party?” Willow asked with a wince. “That sucks.”
“Double the work, but triple the cash,” he said, a rueful amusement softening the voice I’d come to think of as hard and gruff.
I couldn’t stop staring. This was...different. This was a far more laidback Flynn than the guy I’d been coming to know at school.
Around these three, he seemed almost relaxed. And not nearly as broody. He shot me a sidelong look. “You want me to be the lion too?” He shrugged. “I’d be down with trying if it meant more money.”
“How are your mom and brothers doing?” Mrs. Messner asked.
I took a step back. This whole scene felt too weird. Intimate, like they were all friends or even like...a family or something. And I was some stranger coming along and crashing the party.
Again.
Though this time not literally.
“They’re okay.” The way he said it made it clear—to me, at least—that they were not okay.
“When do they get back?” Willow asked.
“Uh…” He rubbed the back of his neck and feigned an interest in the camera. Like it was his first time seeing one.
“Are you still planning on visiting them next month?” she asked.
Savannah was watching Flynn with a little more intensity than was absolutely necessary and once again I felt this wave of...something.
Whatever it was, it made my chest tighten, my stomach turn, and my fists clench.
I was not a fan of this feeling.
Mrs. Messner was frowning, and I suspected this was the first time she was learning about Flynn’s trip. “How long will you be gone? You’re not going to fall behind on schoolwork, are you?”
“Um…” Flynn was fidgeting with that camera and glancing around like he’d rather be anywhere but here.
No Place Like Homecoming Page 4
