When You Were Mine
Alessa Martel
Copyright © 2020 Alessa Martel
All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Cover design by: Parker Book Design
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
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
Epilogue
About The Author
Books By This Author
Chapter One
I know my little sister is going to text me later, and once she gets a response from me, I'll be tapping at my phone for at least an hour.
Nothing ever happens in our small town but a whole lot of exactly that, nothing, and plenty of gossip about that nothing. It's amazing how people can find something to talk about when there's absolutely zero action in the whole three square miles that make up Valley Vale.
If I don't get some of my homework done, I'll be trapped staring at my phone until Sydney is finished imparting said gossip, whether I'm interested in it or not.
I'm not.
Everyone in the campus library is chatting and waving to each other, and I wonder how so many people can know so many others at such a large state university. I came here to escape small town nothing, and found a whole lot of big city nothing instead.
There's one book I need for economics class, and once I have that in hand, I can snag a key to a study carrel at the circulation desk. If I hide inside it and focus on what's due tomorrow, I'll be ready for my sister and the Valley View soap opera update by six.
I could go back to my dorm room, but my roommate is probably there with her boyfriend in-between their classes, and no one wants to see that. Sure, it's supposed to be my space, too, but that's not how this year has worked out.
Nothing about this school year has worked out the way it should have.
My phone vibrates against my butt and I nearly jump straight up in the air. It's too early for Sydney to text, and this is most definitely a call.
I ignore it, figuring that if it's super important, I'll be able to check it in a few minutes anyway.
Three girls in front of me wait to check out their stacks of books, and I lean over a little to see why it's taking so long. A boy working behind the circulation desk is talking to a girl who suddenly leans over and kisses him.
The girls ahead of me giggle, as if we're in eighth grade instead of college. Haven't they ever seen anyone kissing before?
I roll my eyes, growing impatient. I'm sure this whole demonstration is sweet and romantic, but some of us have things to do, and it's inconsiderate.
The fact that my own love life is a hot mess has nothing to do with my frustration.
One of the girls in front of me stares at me, and it takes me a moment to realize that she's frowning. What's her problem?
I scowl in response and she looks away, hunching her shoulders a little.
No matter what I do, I don't fit in on this campus. Not in class, not here in the library, not in my dorm - this was supposed to be my big escape from small town life and a certain someone I’ve left behind, but I don’t know where that escape is leading me.
But it's just my freshman year, and my advisor says that sometimes it takes students some time to figure out what they want to study. Surely these girls in front of me, laughing over someone else's happiness, can't know what they are preparing for. For certain.
How could they?
The line moves up a few steps, and the girlfriend of the library worker waves as she walks away, flashing a flirtatious smile at him. His face flushes a bright pink, and more giggles ring out.
This is a library, isn't it supposed to be quiet?
I just want to get this book checked out and get my carrel key.
So I can study economics, which I hate.
"Hey, Jenny. How's it going?"
A dark haired boy from the dorm that rises up beside mine appears at my elbow, his smile tentative as if he's afraid I might bite.
"Hey, Denny. Just waiting. You know how it is."
He nods, his hand gripping the strap of his backpack reflexively. I guess I don't blame him for being reluctant to talk to me. We went on two dates, once to the movies and once to a drive-up hamburger place that had the best tater tots. My roommate thought it was cute, how our names rhymed, and predicted marriage and babies to fill a big blue house in the suburbs.
And then, I stopped answering his calls and texts.
At first, he waved and called out to me when we saw each other outside of our dorms, and I ignored him. Eventually he stopped.
"Hey," he starts again, and I look down at my foot as it taps on the floor.
I shouldn't have gone out with him in the first place, not when my heart and my head were both back in Valley Vale. It wasn't fair to lead him on, but I was lonely.
"I'm sorry, Denny. Just so you know."
The line moves up again, and Denny follows me as I step up, holding my book against my chest like a shield.
There's no reason why I shouldn't apologize. No reason why I couldn't have done it sooner, though.
Denny heaves a sigh that he doesn't try to hide. When he smiles, it's genuine and relaxed. He's so sweet, and any girl would be happy to have his attention.
Just not me.
"If you ever change your mind, Jenny, just so you know."
My smile is a surprise to me, and I wish I could be the girl for him.
"Thanks. Good luck."
He offers a little wave and backs away. It isn't long before a girl bounces up to him, her weight on the balls of her feet and her ponytail bobbing up and down.
Denny smiles at her as she greets him and starts to talk, but he glances back at me, as if to remind me that he's still interested, even though he's talking to another girl.
My ex-boyfriend, my only boyfriend, and I used to do that. When we left each other's side for any reason, we looked back to reassure the other that we'd return.
Years of hand-holding and stolen kisses in school hallways, and we still gave each other that look.
It's the first time I wonder why we needed to do that.
When I reach the counter and put my book along with my student ID in front of the boy, I see he is no longer blushing. His smile, however, is still wide as he beams at me.
My phone buzzes against my butt again and I shake my head.
"Have a wonderful day!"
The boy pushes my book, with my ID and carrel key on top of it, back to me with a perky admonition. I just nod and turn away, eager for some
time alone.
This big campus and the thousands of students here aren’t as stifling as home, but there's something about it that doesn't feel right. I'm just another body in the crowd, but I hated being the center of attention in a town of less than three thousand people.
Or at least I did after Michael and I broke up.
Some of my classes here have more students than my entire high school did, and no one cares if I show up late, talk to a boy, or have my homework done. I know that's part of college life, but I'm used to the attention that I've come to hate.
I'm not making any sense in my own head.
The study carrel is on the sixth floor, one of a long row of tall wooden boxes with open tops and bottoms on the sides. Not too claustrophobic, with little distraction and no one sitting right beside me.
My backpack is stuffed with my laptop and a few notebooks, scribbles from classes of no interest and little meaning. I wonder why I'm here, and if I'm wasting my time.
But what else can I do?
I start to sit down when my phone jerks to life again, and I reach into my back pocket to see why it's been so active for the past ten minutes.
Three missed calls from Sydney.
It's only three o'clock. She should be at band practice or a student council meeting, or one of the other activities she's involved in.
When I was her age, I was involved with Michael, and that took all of my time.
And look where it got me.
There are no texts from her, just calls. I send her a quick question mark to let her know I'm paying attention now, and the phone immediately buzzes in my hand.
I know we're supposed to be quiet in the library, so I try to keep my voice low when I answer.
"What's up, Sydney? My butt feels like it's been tasered."
Someone on the other side of the wooden panel snickers, and I purse my lips together, forcing myself to focus on my sister.
She can be a drama queen, but that's what Valley Vale breeds, so it can't be helped.
"You will not even believe me, Jenny. You. Will. Not."
I sit down on the orange plastic seat of the chair and lean on my elbow on the small desk space.
"Yeah? Try me."
The last time I was in Valley Vale, it was August, and I was packing my car nice and tight with everything I thought I would need for college two hours away. Lots of school supplies (way too much), comfy clothes (way too much), and room decorations (again, way too much); a broken heart, and no last look in the rearview mirror.
When winter break came around, I made sure I had a full-time holiday job in town and insisted that I couldn't come home except for Christmas Eve and day because of it. I needed the money, but not as badly as I needed to avoid Valley Vale.
"Wait for me, Bethany!"
Sydney screams into the phone instead of turning away from it, and I cringe as she takes a moment to call out to one of her friends. I can't get too annoyed at Sydney. She's the one who rubbed my back and told me that everything would be okay when I couldn't stop crying after Michael and I broke up last year.
I did stop crying, although everything has never felt okay again.
"So, Sydney. I'm doing homework, so if this isn't important, can you call me later, at the usual time?"
She laughs, but I can tell she's not focused back on me yet. I open my laptop and login, but before I can type in my credentials on the school website to access my teacher's notes and assignment, she starts to talk to me again.
"Sorry, I didn't want anyone to think I was ditching. I'll be majorette captain in the fall, so I can't look like a slacker!"
Sydney is the Valley Vale queen of extracurricular activities in a high school of less than 250 students, so there's no chance of this happening.
"And?"
I don't want to sigh into the phone, but I do. If I miss anyone from home, it's my sister. My parents are kind of oblivious to anything negative, and while I once was, too, that time has long gone.
"Oh, yeah. Hey, I saw Kelly Hamilton at the grocery store this morning. Mom made me go get Dad's cinnamon rolls, those ones with the maple frosting?"
I'm silent, typing but listening, because as insistent as she was in calling me, she's going to take her time getting to the point, as always.
Or not.
"Michael's engaged. Kelly said her neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Norris, had a granddaughter move in with them right after Christmas to avoid having to go into assisted living. I've never seen her, which is weird. How can I not have seen her?"
She lost me at engaged. I'm hearing the rest of the words, but they don't make sense.
My Michael, engaged to someone else? We were together less than a year ago, certain that we would get married in the near future.
Now that future is here, and he's going to marry another girl?
Chapter Two
I'm not sure how long I stare at the screen in front of me, the semester's economics syllabus in neatly arranged bullet points with dates that make no sense to me now, before Sydney's voice penetrates the echo in my brain.
Engaged.
"Kelly says they met when Michael was delivering dinner to the Norrises, because you know how the diner always sends food to people who can't get out, which seems like a lot of people anymore. You know that the average age of Valley Vale residents is like forty? Everyone is getting so old!"
She's being ridiculous, but she's seventeen, so I need to give her the benefit of the doubt. What was I doing when I was her age? Following Michael around, our hands intertwined, dreaming of our big white wedding with fluffy pink peonies in my bouquet.
My mother said peonies attract ants, so it wasn't a very practical daydream.
"Sydney. Slow down. I'm pretty sure you just said that Michael was engaged. Did I hear that wrong?"
When she giggles, I can't help repeating the question.
Or growl it.
"Sydney Nicole!"
"What! Oh, sorry, Alaina was making kissy faces behind Troy's back. He is so cute, but he knows it, you know?"
Yeah, I know, but I'm annoyed now, not so much at her. That's killing the messenger, but I can't help it.
"You're sure Michael's engaged?"
My fingers hover over my laptop keyboard. I watch them move as if someone else is directing them to a search engine, where the empty box beckons.
Lindsay Family Diner Valley Vale
It's been a few months since I've looked up anything having to do with Michael or his family, or even Valley Vale itself. Same old news, different day.
But Sydney's news makes me wonder if I've missed anything.
How could Michael suddenly be engaged without any warning?
The menu pops up, same as always. Nothing has changed much since his parents took over the diner from his grandparents, his father's family devoted to the business since it started a generation before that in the middle of the last century.
Some of the red vinyl stools at the soda fountain have been replaced, and the cash register is now a computer. But the vanilla milkshakes are still hand-scooped from hard-packed barrels of ice cream tucked into a freezer just behind the fountain.
I know because I've spent many hours doing just that, along with waitressing when Mr. and Mrs. Lindsay were short-handed. They were always generous and paid me well, but honestly, I wasn’t crazy about it.
Was I too nice? No. I just wanted to be with Michael, to please him and make him proud of me.
What am I expecting to find as I scroll, returning to the search bar to type in Michael's name? An engagement announcement? We're middle of nowhere Ohio, not high society New York City or movie star Hollywood.
"But you're so over him, aren't you? Jenny?"
My sister's voice brings me back, again, and I pull my hands away from the computer to cover my eyes.
I am not going to cry over him. Never again.
"Yeah, you know it."
She doesn't need to know that my cheeks have grown warm, and my eyes have betra
yed me as a trickle of tears strays from them.
I don't love him anymore, or at least I don't love him. Just the idea of him.
I'm sure of it.
"Hey, Sydney, I've got a lot of homework. So I'll talk to you later, okay?"
There's laughter on the other end, and I'm glad that she has so many friends. She's busy and happy, with no particular boy she's glued to every second of every day.
She knows who she is, on her own two feet with no one else paving a path ahead for her.
Unlike me.
"Yeah, okay. I just thought you'd want to know. Glad you're not upset."
I suck in a breath and let it out slowly, hoping she can't hear me.
"Nope, not at all. Have fun."
"Bye!"
She calls the word out, as if her face isn't pressed against the phone as she does, so it's super loud. I'm used to this, so as soon as I finish speaking I hold the phone away from my ear.
The person on the other side of the wooden partition can probably hear her yell, but he or she doesn't say anything.
I want to pick up my laptop and throw it at that same partition, but I don't have the money to replace it and I don't want to get kicked out of the library.
Maybe not in that order.
Three weeks left in the semester, and my efforts to secure an affordable apartment and a job here that will actually pay the rent in this big city have amounted to nothing, so I've been resigned to returning home for the summer.
Disappointing, that I couldn't continue my streak of staying away, but I was sure that I could stay busy, somehow, once I moved back.
Now I know that three square miles isn't going to be big enough for the two of us. Or three, counting his fiancée.
Alleged fiancée.
Economics is going to have to wait as I pull up an employment website and type in my home zip code, expanding the search for twenty miles. It's desperate, and while I've stopped crying, I need something concrete to hook my thoughts into.
I scroll and stare, scroll and stare, until the words don't make any more sense than my Economics syllabus did earlier.
As I close my laptop and tuck it into my backpack, I think of the last night Michael and I were together. The fight that led to words exchanged, words I never imagined I would speak myself or hear from his lips. Words that couldn't be taken back.
When You Were Mine Page 1
