The Wayward Sons: (Book 3) Starlee's Home

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The Wayward Sons: (Book 3) Starlee's Home Page 9

by Angel Lawson


  I know my way to the art room but I’m still a little wary about whatever they have planned. The boys have B Lunch, which is why we’re no longer able to see one another. The last thing we need is to get in trouble before the break.

  The door is closed but as I approach it swings open and George appears. “What are you doing?” I ask skeptically. This hall is closed during A Lunch.

  “Ms. Peterman gave me permission to host a gathering in here today.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Host?”

  He steps back and I see all four guys at our normal art table. The surface is covered with containers of food, half of them baked goods. “What is all this?” I ask, feeling overwhelmed. It’s not just the food. It’s the fact we’re all together in the middle of the school day, something that’s been off limits for weeks.

  “We just wanted to do something nice for you.”

  “By stuffing me with sugar?” I walk over and pick up a ginger cookie. I pop it in my mouth. “Oh my god. So good.”

  Each boy takes a seat and I sit at the end, plates are passed around and Dexter turns on his iPod, streaming holiday music. It’s cheesy and perfect and it brings me back to a few months ago when eating lunch together wasn’t breaking the rules.

  “You know, I didn’t know we were exchanging gifts today.” To be honest, I didn’t have anything for them. My plan was to shop over the weekend with Claire, but after all this? I have no idea what to get them.

  “You don’t owe us anything,” Jake says, tapping my foot with his. His plate is piled high with food.

  I eat another cookie but don’t respond, because I know in my heart that I do owe them for what they’ve given me, I just have to figure out how to go about it.

  When I get home, I find Leelee and Katie in the office. Reservations are low over the holidays, just a few people on extended stay to hunt and ski that don’t want to pay for the bigger resorts. I drop my backpack on the floor. We have only two days until Christmas, and tomorrow I’m spending it shopping with Claire. I haven’t given up on finding a way to have a party where we can all spend some time together, and already asked Leelee what she thought about us hosting something at her house a few days before.

  “Starlee, I’ve been thinking about your Christmas party idea—and I like it—the idea of getting everyone in Lee Vines together to celebrate is wonderful but I just don’t think the house is big enough to do it.”

  I sigh. “Right. I know. It would be a tight fit.”

  “But,” she says, walking around the counter, “I talked to Tom about it and he’d love to host something at the café on Christmas Eve. They close early that day and he thinks it would be fun to invite everyone over.”

  “Really? That’s great.” If Tom is hosting a party, there’s no way Sierra won’t let the boys come, and we can do everything we can to invite George and Charlie, too. “Tell me what we need to do.”

  “Can you send an email out to the neighborhood group? That should cover almost everyone.”

  “I’m on it,” I say, passing her and walking over to the computer behind the counter.

  “I’m going to go find out if there’s anything else he needs. Be back in a bit.” She goes out the front door and the door closes with a chime of the bell.

  I sit on the stool and open up the email account. The squeak of the desk chair tells me Katie’s no longer sitting and I feel her lean against the counter next to me. “What are you up to?”

  I shrug. “Just wanting to spend some time with our neighbors on Christmas.”

  “Our neighbors or your neighbors…specifically?”

  I give her look. “It will be nice to see everyone, but yeah, Sierra is still holding firm on her no-contact policy, and although we’ve found a few work arounds, I don’t want to have to sneak around on Christmas Eve. It’s my first holiday here with Leelee and away from my mom. I want it to be special.”

  “That’s fair,” she says. “What do you need me to do?”

  “Maybe make sure Sierra is going to come? Or invite George and Charlie so it’s not coming from me?” I sigh and scratch my arm. “It’s ridiculously complicated. Even if we get Sierra to the party, we need a distraction.”

  Katie rests her chin on her hand. “Hmmm…you’re right. Otherwise she’ll just keep an eye on you the whole time.”

  “Total bummer.”

  Her eyes light up and she snaps her fingers. “I have an idea.”

  “What?”

  “We find a guy to distract Sierra.”

  “A guy? She’s basically a nun at this point—you know, other than her committed relationship with the brothers Winchester.”

  “No, I have the perfect guy—guys, actually. They work with Reid in the park.” Katie’s boyfriend works as a ranger in Yosemite. “There’s a whole group of them that have to work over the holiday. I bet they’d love to have something to do.”

  “Whatever it takes. It may take a handful of guys, but if it keeps her from spying on me all night, that would be amazing.”

  She pulls out her phone and starts texting, a devious smile on her lips. I love how Katie commits to a plan. “Oh, and there’s one last thing we need for the party.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Tom needs to make his world-famous eggnog.”

  “Why?”

  “Sierra loves it and it’s heavy on the bourbon.”

  My eyes widen. “You want us to distract Sierra with a bunch of men and booze?”

  She laughs and continues with her text. “Merry Christmas to her, am I right?”

  23

  Starlee

  I drive down to June Lake to pick up Claire, and we head to Mammoth Lake to the Village Resort. I’ve only been in this area a few times, but not since it’s been decorated for Christmas. The resort itself is massive, with a hotel and lodge. The entire town of Lee Vines could fit in the parking lot. There are rows of shops, specialty. The visitors to the lodge obviously have money to spend and are looking for a high-end vacation rather than the rustic feel of our tiny place.

  Everything is lit up, trees, windows, doorways. Stores are ready for holiday shoppers. Claire and I walk down the crowded cobblestone streets, taking it all in. “Okay, who do you need to shop for?”

  “I already ordered my grandmother a blanket,” I say, zipping my coat up higher. It’s chilly. “It’s a Supernatural one. It’s got her boys on the front.”

  She laughs. “I love that your grandmother is into that. I can’t imagine what would happen if I asked mine to watch it. She’d drag me to church for an exorcism.”

  “Leelee’s pretty cool. It’s been nice getting to know her better.”

  We decide to enter a shop that focuses primarily on hats. I pick up a thick stocking cap. “Do you think Dexter would wear this?”

  Claire looks at her reflection in the mirror, a rainbow-colored felt hat on her head. She looks adorable—and completely out of character. “You haven’t bought his gift yet?”

  I sigh. “I haven’t bought any of their gifts yet.”

  “Wow.” She takes off the hat and hangs it on a hook. “So what kind of gift do you want to get them?” She eyes the hat in my hand and takes it from me. “You all have a pretty special relationship.”

  “I want to show them how much I care about them—how awesome it is that they’ve accepted me. Coming here last summer was hard and they’re really the first friends I’d made in a long time.” I run my fingers over a fuzzy hat. “You know they wrote me the whole time I was back in North Carolina?”

  “Emails? Texts?”

  “Letters.”

  She looks up. “Seriously? Like, actual letters. Even Jake?”

  I nod. “How do I find something that shows how much I appreciate them?”

  “Hmm. Let me think on it.”

  We walk back into the cold and go in and out of a few shops. I do find a necklace for Katie and when Claire isn’t looking, a pair of purple fingerless gloves for her. We stop for coffee and I feel a like
a cheater, paying for a mocha outside the Wayward Sun. It’s not as good and none of their pastries look homemade.

  I’m tossing my cup in the trash when Claire stops, gripping my arm, eyes focused on a shop ahead. I look at the sign over the door and shake my head. “No. No way.”

  “No, look. It’s Christina.”

  Sure enough, she’s walking in the door with two other cheerleaders.

  “Come on.” She drags me over.

  “What? I don’t need any,” I lower my voice. “Underwear like that.”

  “Why not? It’s the perfect gift—for everyone.”

  We’re outside the door and I feel my cheeks warm up despite the cold. “We hardly see one another right now and, well, it’s not like they’d see it anyway.”

  She studies me for a minute and then, like in a cartoon, her eyes widen when the lightbulb hits. In a low voice, she asks, “You’re not having sex with…well, any of them?”

  I think back to Dexter. The one time. The one amazing time before things got really complicated. “No.”

  She grips my arm again. “Well Christina doesn’t know that.”

  “What?” I ask, stumbling up the store step.

  “You want to get Christina back for wrecking your life? The best thing you can do is rub her nose in what you have that she doesn’t.”

  I nod, finally catching on, and following her into the shop.

  The entire shop looks like pink vomited all over every surface, although there is a display up front with a sexy Santa theme. I feel incredibly awkward, but Claire whispers in my ear, “Fake it ‘til you make it, girl.”

  She’s right. I have four amazing boyfriends. Four. And it’s her fault I’m not with them right now and her fault that the twins had to move out. She got me blacklisted. So what if she thinks I’m having sex with one or even all of them? Especially Jake.

  “What about this one?” Claire says, picking up a pink bra and panty set. A set I could never imagine myself wearing. One of the cheerleaders notices us and whispers in Christina’s ear.

  “I don’t know,” I say, pretending I don’t see them. “Jake’s favorite color is blue.”

  She walks across the store and holds up two different colors. “Navy or royal?”

  “Light blue. Like his eyes.”

  Claire smiles wickedly, amused at me playing along. “But I don’t know if that’s the right style.”

  “No?” she asks, “why not?”

  I pick up the thong. “He’s more of an ass man. I think he’d prefer this.”

  Christina, who has been standing in the back, flips her hair over her shoulder and walks toward us.

  “Oh, hi Christina,” I say sweetly. “I didn’t see you here.”

  “Please. You totally saw me and you want me to think you’re buying lingerie for Jake. I’m not an idiot.” Her words are calm but there’s something about her voice that makes me think she’s not so sure.

  “Well what do you think? Thong or bikini.”

  She rolls her eyes. “I think those boys are locked down tight up there in Lee Vines, even with you next door. I don’t think anyone is going to see what’s under your ratty clothes, so you may as well go for the white cotton panties over there and call it a day.”

  It takes everything in me not to tell her how I know what Jake likes. I know what his tongue feels against me and I know how he tastes, feels. But I’m not about to tell her about my private relationship with him. He’s too important. We’re too important.

  “You know,” I say to Claire, “Christina’s right.”

  “She is?” my friend replies cautiously.

  “Jake does like me in basic white cotton. It’s not like it’s staying on long anyway.”

  Christina’s jaw drops and her cheeks turn flaming red. For once, she’s left without a retort, and she tosses the tank top in her hand on the nearest table and storms out of the store. Claire and I hold still until the door swings shut and then we burst out laughing, doubling over from the pain.

  I don’t find the boys anything that afternoon, but I do leave with one present: the gift of getting even.

  24

  Charlie

  The routine of our life changes a lot since we moved in with Dad. There’s less fun and fights, something that comes from living without the guys. Dad doesn’t have the same spark Sierra carries; who’s caught somewhere between a mom and a sister. Even when he’s being nice, he doesn’t have a nurturing bone in his body. At some point, maybe always, his life became about survival and we were just one of the obstacles in the way.

  The resort is packed for the holidays and that makes him busy—he gets overtime and he likes it. My job is only part-time so it’s over at eight every night and George fills in where needed, but since it’s inconsistent, my brother has taken on the role of shopping and cooking. We both learned how to navigate this kind of thing at Sierra’s where everyone had to pitch in. I don’t mind the job so much. It’s tedious but quiet. I can sneak in time to play my games and qualified for a tournament coming up on the 27th at the university in Reno. There’s a five-thousand-dollar scholarship for the winner.

  “I still can’t believe he’s letting us take the car up for the Christmas party,” George says as he covers a plate of food for my dad. He’s working late, which is one reason he said we could go to the party. Guilt, I think, for working on Christmas Eve. I’m surprised he even feels it. Maybe he is making progress, but I’m not willing to say that out loud.

  We stop by his office and drop off the food, leaving it on his desk.

  “Have you told him about the tournament?” George asks in the hallway.

  “No. I keep waiting for the right time.”

  He snorts. “Good luck with that.”

  He’s right. There’s no such thing as the right time where dad is concerned. We’re both still walking on eggshells waiting for the “real” him to come back out. The one that rages and rants at George. The one that hits. I haven’t seen that person since we’ve been back, but it’s only been a few weeks.

  “I’ll tell him after Christmas.”

  “You’re cutting it close.”

  He’s not aware that I’ve signed up and confirmed. I’m going to that tournament—with or without my dad’s approval. I would just be nice if he’d cooperate, since I need his signature on the form.

  George drives the beat-up truck up the mountain. With the leaves gone and the holiday lights out, it’s interesting to see the tiny spots of civilization along the way that you can’t normally find. Little cabins and cottages up and down the mountains.

  “I kind of hate this drive now,” George says over the music. The radio is stuck on country, or so he says. I think he likes it.

  “Why’s that?”

  “I don’t know. It’s hard going up there, you know? Seeing what we’re missing?”

  I nod. Staying away from Lee Vines, from Starlee, is hard. The hardest thing I’ve ever done. “It’s better than shutting it out, right? Because that’s the only other option.”

  “I know,” his hands grip the steering wheel. “It still sucks.”

  “I don’t think they’re enjoying life that much more. From what Dexter says, Sierra hasn’t budged an inch on them seeing Starlee.”

  “Oh, I know that’s true. I saw the interaction between everyone at the Wayward Sun the other day. She tried her hardest not to have me drive up there with them and Dexter was livid. I got the feeling it was the first time Starlee had been in there in weeks.”

  George had told me about this kid Jasper flirting with Starlee. I know it’s not unreasonable. She’s beautiful. Sweet and fun. Why wouldn’t the vultures circle once we were out of the picture? But it makes my skin itch to think about another guy near her.

  As we near Lee Vines, George slows the truck, entering the little town slowly. Even though everything is closed, there are lights everywhere—the tree in the middle of the big yard. The windows at the lodge and a large wreath hanging from the diner’s door. The
book and grocery store have small trees in the windows and the hiking shop has a full display, including Santa and his reindeer. We spent the last two Christmases up here and yeah, George is right, it hurts as much as it helps to come up here.

  He parks the truck in the Wayward Sun driveway and we step out of the warm cab and into the cold night. We pass the big tree and I can hear the holiday music coming out of the café. Everyone we know is in that house. Our real family and friends.

  “There’s Starlee,” George says, looking in the big front window. The Epic Café is an old bungalow, with a front porch and picture window. Sure enough, she’s standing right in the front, talking to Gertie who owns the Gas-and-Stop. Her face is lit up, beautiful, and I know one thing is true: as bittersweet as coming home feels, there’s nowhere I’d rather be.

  25

  Starlee

  There’s something about a devious plan that puts Katie in motion. If I have any questions about her superpower, they’re long gone. Everything is exactly as she wanted. The spiked eggnog, the three handsome rangers, and Sierra falling for it like a kid on Christmas morning.

  Dexter, Jake, and I avoid one another until she’s good and occupied, her laughter echoing off the high, tin-plated ceilings.

  “I hear you’re the one that had the idea for a party,” Gertie says. She’s a thin woman that looks like she knows her way around a car engine. It makes sense; she owns the gas station down the block.

  “I thought it would be fun to see everyone.” I cast a sly glance at Dexter in the corner talking to Della from the diner. I’m not sure, but I think she’s trying to hustle his apple pie recipe from him. “You know, we all get so busy.”

  Figures cross the yard and there’s no mistaking the identical forms approaching the porch. I fight every urge to run across the room and meet them at the door. “The twins came?” Gertie asks. “I sure do miss them. I hope everything’s okay with them back home.”

  “Me too,” I say, already vibrating about having them all here at once. They look good, taller maybe, if that’s possible. George wears jeans and a blue sweater that makes his mega-watt smile seem brighter than normal. Charlie has on a hoodie and a flannel, layered up. His cheekbones hit the edge of his glasses and I think his face looks thinner—leaner, really. Not in a bad way. In a very, very sexy way, actually.

 

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