Just One Year
Page 1
First Edition
Copyright © 2019
By Penelope Ward
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, things living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
Edited by: Jessica Royer Ocken
Proofreading and formatting by: Elaine York
Cover model: Chase Mattson
Cover photographer: Derick Smith
Cover design: Letitia Hasser, RBA Designs
TABLE OF CONTENTS
* * *
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Epilogue
Dear Readers
Other Books by Penelope Ward
Acknowledgements
About the Author
CHAPTER ONE
* * *
TEAGAN
Ever have one of those days where everything seems to go wrong from the moment you wake up? Like someone up above just decided this was going to be a crappy day for you, and no matter where you go or what you do, you can’t seem to avoid trouble? Today had been that kind of day for me. It was sophomore orientation day at Northern University, and everything that could go wrong today had.
First, I was informed that I didn’t get into the chemistry class I’d wanted. They’d overbooked it and needed to oust the last few people who’d signed up. Instead, I’d have to suffer through physics, which I found boring and easy, because it was the only thing that fit into my schedule.
Then I found out Maura’s request to have an international student live with us for the year had been accepted. The university had a housing shortage and gave stipends to people who lived nearby that were willing to house some of the students. My stepmother had specifically requested an international student because she wanted to teach my little sister about a foreign culture. We’d be welcoming a guy from China. Finding out we were about to have a stranger living with us put another damper on my afternoon. I really didn’t feel like having to be “on” in my own house.
But that news was nothing compared to the worst part of my day: my current situation as I ran in search of a bathroom. I’d gotten my period unexpectedly while touring one of the newly constructed school buildings. As I rushed away from the science lab, the sound of my shoes hitting the ground echoed in the halls.
When I finally found a ladies’ room, a sign on the door read: OUT OF ORDER.
Of course!
Since I couldn’t afford to waste time searching for another bathroom, I made the hasty decision to use the adjacent men’s room. Putting my ear to the door, I didn’t hear any activity inside. Thankfully, it was actually empty when I went in.
There were two urinals on one wall and two stalls on the other. The first stall I entered looked like the toilet was about to overflow, so I opened the second one. The most horrid stench I’d ever smelled in my life emanated from it, but it did appear to at least be working. And I now had no choice but to use it. Holding my nose, I attempted to fish a tampon out of my purse with my remaining hand. Bending without touching the toilet seat, I took care of business as fast as I possibly could—but not before someone entered.
The door creaked as it opened. Great. Just great.
“Hang on!” I said from behind the stall door as I rushed to pull my shorts up. “Don’t take your pants off yet. I’m coming out.”
Don’t take your pants off yet? I cringed at my choice of words.
“I’m sorry?” a voice said.
I busted out of the stall. “The ladies’ room is out of order, and I really needed to use the bathroom.”
He sniffed. “Evidently.”
Shit! He thinks I’m responsible for the smell.
Don’t do it. Acknowledging will make you look guilty.
But I couldn’t help myself.
“I just want you to know—the smell…it wasn’t me. It was like that when I walked in.”
To make matters worse, this guy was pretty amazing looking, not the ideal person to have caught me in the men’s room. Was there actually an ideal person?
My heart beat faster as I washed my hands.
“Hmm…curious, if you ask me,” he muttered in his British accent.
“Curious? What does that mean?”
He smirked. “The whole thing is curious. You’re not supposed to be in here. You seem guilty. And it smells like someone died. Suspicious. But it’s none of my business.”
I shook off my hands and grabbed a piece of paper towel, ripping it harshly. “You can’t be serious.”
He looked me up and down. “It’s surprising a little thing like you could have created such a stench.”
My heart raced. “It wasn’t me.”
I knew the more I denied it, the worse it made me look. I needed to get out of here.
He chuckled. “Relax. I’m kidding.”
Is he? I rushed past him. “Have a good day.”
“Smell you later, love,” he called from behind me.
I headed through that door and down the hall like a bat out of hell.
***
My family lived about ten minutes from Northern’s main Boston campus in the town of Brookline. Our house was a large, old Victorian with dark wood fixtures and a winding staircase. Vintage was the best way to describe it—bright purple on the outside with a red door. It looked like something that belonged in a children’s book.
As beautiful as the bedrooms were, when I’d turned eighteen last year, my dad had allowed me to move downstairs. The basement had its own smaller bedroom and an adjacent bathroom. On my birthday, instead of partying or going out to redeem my complimentary Starbucks drink, I’d spent the entire day moving my belongings. My room now had its own door that led out to the yard. That made it easy to escape when I needed to. I liked being able to come and go as I pleased without having to talk to my father, Maura, or my twelve-year-old half-sister, Shelley. It wasn’t that I hated being around them; I just needed my space. But it didn’t make sense to pay for housing at the university when we lived so close. So the basement was my compromise.
Because we had so much room and lived so close to the college, Maura often offered one of our bedrooms to various people traveling through town or students needing to rent a room. Having strangers in my house had never bothered me when I was younger. But now that I’d be attending school with this latest inter
national student, it was going to be weird having him around.
“You’re back late,” my stepmother said as I entered the kitchen that afternoon.
“Yeah. Orientation was stressful. I watched a movie after I left school to get my mind off things.”
Syd’s Theater, the small, independent movie house in my town, was practically empty during the weekdays. My stepmother was convinced the wrong kind of people lurked in there during slow times—like the middle of the day—but that was exactly when I liked going, when I was alone or nearly alone in the place.
She frowned. “I told you to stop going there.”
“It’s fine. No one’s ever bothered me. In fact, I was the only one in there today. No one can bother you if you’re alone. Aside from the floors being sticky, it’s harmless.”
“God knows what’s on that floor that’s making it sticky. And you were all alone? That’s exactly what I mean. You’re an easy target. I have a bad feeling about that place.”
I changed the subject because I didn’t need to have this dumb discussion again. “Did the exchange student arrive?”
Banging a metal spoon against the pot she was stirring, she said, “There’s been a change in plans. Bo Cheng from China is no longer going to be living with us.”
“Why not?”
“Turns out he’s highly allergic to cats. He showed up earlier with all of his stuff and couldn’t stop sneezing. He went back to the school and requested a reassignment.”
My hopes were up. “So, no one’s moving in?”
“They were able to find another student willing to switch with Bo. So now he’s coming instead. He’s supposed to be arriving tonight. I guess he’s packing up his stuff.”
I sighed. “What’s his deal?”
“They didn’t say. It’ll be like unwrapping a present,” she teased.
Feeling anxiety bubble up in my chest again, I headed down to my bedroom and lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling, once again appreciative of the sanctuary that was my own space. The screen door that led out to my yard let in a cool breeze. Listening to the rustle of the leaves, I drifted off into a nap.
***
My sister’s voice woke me sometime later. “Come upstairs and meet Caleb!”
Rubbing my groggy eyes, I mumbled, “Who?”
“Caleb. The guy who’s gonna be living with us!”
Ugh.
She plopped onto my bed. “He’s really nice. He’s already fixed my bike. He figured out how to loosen the stuck seat.”
“He’s been here for a while?”
“About an hour and a half. He’s upstairs putting his room together, but Mom just called everyone for dinner. We’re about to start eating. She made spaghetti.”
I looked at the clock. Jesus. It was nearly eight at night.
After my sister skipped back upstairs, I forced myself out of bed and walked over to the mirror. I tied my long, light brown hair back up in a knot. I hadn’t worn my hair down in ages, and makeup wasn’t my thing. Good enough. I wasn’t trying to impress anyone anyway.
Slowly, I made my way up the stairs. As I reached the top, a British accent began to register. I stopped just short of the dining room and lingered around the corner before entering. Why does his voice sound so familiar?
I leaned my head out to take a peek into the room.
No!
Just no!
Why?
It was the chiseled face of the guy who’d judged me in the men’s room today. My stomach sank.
Not the bathroom Brit!
Anyone but him.
He was our new tenant?
My father caught sight of me, thwarting my attempt to hide around the corner. “Teagan! So nice of you to join us.”
I took a few reluctant steps into the dining room.
Caleb turned to meet my shocked eyes. His mouth fell open before curving into an amused smile.
Maura introduced us. “Teagan, this is Caleb.” She grinned. “Caleb, this is our daughter, Teagan.”
“Nice to meet you,” I forced out.
He smirked. “Actually…we’ve met before, haven’t we?”
Maura looked between us. “You have?”
Caleb nodded. “We ran into each other today at orientation.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Oh, that’s right. I recognize you now.”
“It was brief…but memorable.” He winked. “Wasn’t it?”
I wanted to smack him from across the table. But instead, I sat, vowing not to say anything further to him.
Throughout dinner, I played with my pasta and avoided making eye contact.
Maura pushed the serving dish closer to him, a silent encouragement to eat up. “So, Caleb, what brings you to the States? I mean, I know you’re studying at Northern, but why did you decide to make that move?”
He took a swig of water. “Well, I took a few years off after high school. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to major in. That’s why at twenty-two, I’m a bit old for a freshman. My uni in England has a partnership with Northern. I was given the option to spend one year here. So, I chose the first year. I figured when else in my life would I get this opportunity?”
“Is this your first time in the US?”
He wiped his mouth and nodded. “Yes.”
“What do you think so far?” she asked.
“I love it. But I’m definitely noticing some differences.”
Maura leaned in. “Oh? We’d love to know more.” She turned to my sister. “Shelley, pay attention. This is good for you to learn.”
“Well, for one, the portion sizes here are more fit for a gorilla.”
Everyone but me got a good laugh at that.
“Not that I’m complaining…” he added. “I think it’s great. We just aren’t served that much food back home.”
Smiling, my dad crossed his arms and leaned back into his chair. “What else?”
“Well, thus far I’m finding there are two types of people here. There are extremely friendly ones who start talking to you on the tube for no reason. And then there are people who can’t seem to take a joke or laugh at things.” He turned and looked right at me. “I feel like Brits are somewhere in between the two—more neutral, really.”
Maura filled his glass with more water. “That’s so interesting. So our personalities are more extreme.”
“Perhaps.” He smirked at me.
My stepmom continued to grill Caleb through dessert. He seemed more than happy to answer her questions. Meanwhile, I longed to escape but stayed since I didn’t want to appear any ruder than he apparently thought I was.
After dinner, Caleb helped us clean up, despite Maura’s insistence that he didn’t have to. He definitely had good manners. I’d give him that.
It was late by the time everything was put away. Much to my delight, Caleb retreated to his room.
Relief washed over me, since I no longer had to avoid looking at him. I could momentarily forget he was living in my house.
***
The next morning as I was in the kitchen pouring coffee, I felt the vibration of his voice at my back.
“Morning, roomie.”
I jumped and, with my back still turned to him, managed to say hello.
“You know, if we’re going to be living together, you might as well learn to look at me. I can imagine it’s a lot more work to avoid eye contact. It’s sort of like playing dodgeball with your eyeballs.”
That made me chuckle a little. I turned around to face him. “We didn’t exactly get off on the right foot. I guess I’m still trying to accept that you’re here under our roof, given how we were introduced.”
“You must have nearly crapped when you saw me.”
I rolled my eyes as his mouth spread into a wicked smile, his white teeth nearly blinding me. He was painfully handsome, and I hated it. His thick, gorgeous head of hair was a beautiful mess in the morning, too. Pretty-boy asshole.
“Yeah. It was supposed to be Bo Cheng, not you,” I said.
“The guy you replaced. That’s his name.”
“Ah. That bloke. I met him briefly when I was moving out of the other place. His eyes were all puffy.”
“Yeah. He was allergic to Catlin Jenner.”
“Who?”
“Catlin Jenner—the cat.”
“Ah, that’s her name?”
“Yes. Shelley named her after that Kardashians dad who’s now a woman—Caitlin Jenner. Except ours is Cat-lin Jenner. Get it?”
“She’s a clever one, your sister. And that makes sense about the allergies. That cat certainly has no lack of hair.”
“She’s Persian.”
“She’s beautiful. We slept together last night, actually.”
I was certain it wasn’t the first time he’d said that. “Be careful. She scratches sometimes.”
“Scratches don’t scare me.”
Why did every word that came out of his mouth put my mind in the gutter?
He grabbed a mug from the cabinet. “So I have Catlin Jenner to thank for the fact that I’m now living in this awesome house?”
“Are you being sarcastic?”
Caleb closed the cabinet a little too hard. “Are you kidding? This place is brilliant. I’ve never eaten better, slept better. I love it here. I feel more at home than my own house in England.”
“Oh. I couldn’t tell whether you were joking.”
“You don’t feel the same?” he asked.
“It’s different when something isn’t novel. I guess I ju—”
“Take it for granted?”
I sighed. “Maybe a little. Yeah.”
I looked down at my shoes—anything to avoid contact with those blazing green eyes of his.
“So…would you have looked Bo Cheng in the eyes?”
“Probably,” I said, still refusing to look up.
“Should we bring him back, give him some allergy medication? Put you out of your misery?”
“That’s not necessary. We won’t see much of each other aside from meal times anyway.”
“Oh, that’s right. You hide down in the basement, hardly pay attention to your sister…”