It’s Not Home Without You: A Homecoming Novel #1

by C. Lymari

  “Why are we all in black? Are we robbing the gas station or what?” I asked when I noticed what everyone else was wearing.

  Russell gave us a slow grin before he reached into his truck, took out a spray can, and threw it at me. “We’re giving the water tower a makeover.”

  “Why?” I asked. We had already done our senior prank.

  The school staff didn’t find it amusing when they came to school only to find cows on the third floor. Freya and Russ got called into the principal’s office right away. Freya’s excuse was that she was a sophomore, but everyone knew, where Russell was, she wasn’t far behind. No one questioned me, and it had been me who stole the school keys.

  “Senior prank part two.” Russell grinned, and I shook my head, but I didn’t care. As long as I was with Freya, it didn’t matter what we did. She had a wild streak, and I love that about her. She didn’t just make me happy to be alive; she made me want to live. Shrugging in agreement, I let the guys climb into the cab of Russell’s truck. Leading Freya to the back, I stopped her before she could climb in.

  “Here put this on.” I held out my hoodie for her to wear. “I don’t just have one black hoodie, I have two.” I smirked at her.

  “I’m not changing.” Freya crossed her arms defiantly. It only made me grin at how cute she looked when she tried to resist me.

  “Would you rather wear a hoodie that smells like Russell or like me?” With an annoyed huff, she took off the hoodie she was wearing, and I cursed under my breath. The white tank top she was wearing underneath didn’t hide much. The swell of her breasts made my mouth water and almost say fuck it and drag her up to my room, but I knew Freya lived for doing things she shouldn’t. I had immense control to the point I was sure I qualified for sainthood, but every time I had Freya under me, it was getting harder to stop myself. I would not go there with her until she was ready. I knew how she viewed herself and what everyone at school said about her got to her, even if she told me otherwise. A selfish part of me wondered if prom would be the night.

  Prom was everyone’s night, but I had to keep reminding myself it wasn’t even her prom but mine. Freya didn’t graduate for another two years. The muscles on my forearm would get a workout till then. It made good practice for college.

  “Max, is everything okay?” Freya’s cold hands were on my cheeks, snapping me out of my thoughts.

  “Baby, when I’m with you, everything is perfect.” I watched her eyes go all soft, and I loved making her that way. Picking her up, I threw her in the back of the truck, and since the guys were driving, there was no reason for us not to make out on the way.

  “I thought we were painting the other water tower?” I said, looking up at the new tower the city put in a few years ago.

  “If you and Gabs weren’t sucking face, then you would have known the plan.” Russell snickered.

  I tucked Freya into me and kissed her cheek. “Don’t listen to him; he’s just hating.”

  “Gross, that’s my sister.”

  “No offense, Bear, but why are you here?” Freya asked.

  “Are you kidding me? Tagging is fun.” Jake was the first one to climb the long ladder. Russell followed, then Freya and me. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t let her go first? That way I could catch her in case she was to fall, and as a bonus, I got to look at her ass.

  We all stood back to admire our handiwork; the tower had gotten a makeover courtesy of Jake and Russell who had artistic abilities. Freya and I had only gone over it with white spray paint to make a transparent canvas for them. Instead of displaying the town’s name, it now displayed our class year.

  Just as we had gotten down, police sirens flashed. Freya screamed, but it wasn’t because she was afraid; on the contrary, it thrilled her. She was excited and, fuck, it pierced me. I loved this girl, everything about her.

  “Shit, good thing we left the truck hidden behind those trees,” Russell pointed out.

  “Fuck, I can’t get caught. It’ll fuck up my scholarship,” Jake added.

  We all ran back to Russell’s truck. My heart was racing, and my grip on Freya’s hand was tight, making sure she didn’t fall behind. The sirens kept getting closer, but whoever was driving couldn’t see us because of the shadows.

  “We’re not going to make it,” Freya said, trying to catch her breath. “You guys go. I’ll distract them.”

  The three of us shouted "no" at her.

  Freya let go of my hand and glared at all of us. “I’ll be fine. Bear, you have the scholarship to maintain, and if they press charges, then this will fuck it up. Rusty, everyone is still looking to blame you for the cows.”

  I got closer to her. If she was taking on the heat, then so was I. Freya put her hand out to stop me. “You too, Max.” She gave me a sad smile. “I don’t want this to impact your college. And let’s be real, your parents would blame me.”

  “I’m staying.”

  “No, go.” She turned to look at the squad car. It was almost upon us.

  “I’m not leaving you, baby.”

  “Please, Max, just go.” She pushed me toward the bushes.

  I didn’t go. Instead, I cupped her face and saw the challenge in her eyes. It would piss her off if I stayed. So I kissed her. “I love you, Freya Pratt, even if you drive me fucking crazy.”

  She smiled at me brightly, even though she was about to take the fall for all of us.

  “I love you too. Now go.” She got on her tiptoes, kissed me, then ran back toward the tower.

  When I made it to the bushes, Russell and Jake were crouching there, their eyes on Freya.

  “I can’t do this. I’m going back with her,” I said ready to turn around, but Russell stopped me. It pissed me off, because if he really believed she was like his sister, shouldn’t he protect her?

  “Jake called Clark, who’s at the station being a kiss-ass, and the police code they used was mine and Freya’s.”

  That was even worse. I didn’t know why Russell was so calm.

  “Your point?” I asked.

  “The detective has a soft spot for Freya.”

  “He what?” My tone went icy with jealousy at the fact that a cop might have a thing for Freya. I couldn’t blame him; she was beautiful, but still, she was mine.

  Russell rolled his eyes. “Not like that, dumbass. He wants to get her on the right path.”

  I stood hidden in the trees and watched as my girl waved at the cop car like she was trying to hitch a ride. I wanted to kiss her and spank her at the same time. No one was around for miles, and the night was clear, so it was easy to hear what Freya and the detective were talking about.

  “Hey, Timmy, it’s been a while.” I wasn’t the only one who grinned at my girl’s blasé tone.

  The detective shook his head, his shoulders sagging.

  “Where’s your partner in crime, Freya?”

  “I don’t know. I came on my nightly jog,” she answered. Judging by the silence, I was sure detective Tim didn’t believe her.

  “You’re telling me you had nothing to do with the graffiti on the water tower?”

  Freya walked next to the detective, since he had a clear view of our handiwork, and gaped at the painting. “Oh wow. I hadn’t noticed. I’m short. I miss a lot of things.”

  “Freya.” There was a warning in the detective’s voice.

  “You think I did this?” She pointed to the water tower, her tone incredulous. “I don’t graduate for two more years. Besides, I’m not very artistic. I like to run and hang out with my boyfriend, and I’m afraid of heights; they make me queasy. Haven’t you noticed I haven’t gotten in much trouble lately?”

  Damn, my girl was good.

  “Get in the car, Freya. And if you happened to know who damaged the town’s property, tell them I won’t have the tapes checked if they restore the damage by Friday.”

  “Fuck,” Russell muttered. The detective totally knew, but Russell was right, he had a soft spot for my girl. We waited for a while until the
coast was clear before we left.

  As soon as Rus dropped me at my house, I grabbed my car and drove straight to Freya’s. When I pulled up to her home, she was waiting outside for me, a smile on her face when she saw me pull up.

  “I’d knew you’d come.” She ran into my arms. Now that the rush was gone, I looked into her beautiful, brown eyes—eyes I could get lost in, and I wouldn’t care if no one ever found me.

  “I love you, baby,” I said as soon as I had her in my arms. Freya craned her head to look up at me, her arms wrapped around my neck. When I noticed that her eyes were moist, I wanted to curse myself for making her cry. But then she smiled at me, and she didn’t have to tell me she loved me back because she told me with the way her eyes sparkled and the way she smiled at me like I was the only one in the whole world. Still, when she said the words, I knew she was the one for me. This was the girl I wanted to marry.

  The girl I would marry.

  “I love you too, Max,” she said, and I knew those words coming from her lips would become my favorite thing to hear.

  15

  Freya

  What is it about ignoring your cheating ex-boyfriend that screams keep calling me? What went through his head every time I pressed the ignore button? My brain was at its limit. I could feel myself on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I knew I could change my phone number to end his harassment, but I had a life attached to that number. It was the number all my work contacts had, and it would be a bitch to change. Besides, why should I make more changes just because Ashton cheated on me?

  “Thou shall not let thy ex ruin thy life,” I ranted as I walked into Emma’s while I pressed ignore on another one of Ashton’s calls. This was ridiculous; he was giving me more attention now than when we were together. Like seriously, what part of “leave me the fuck alone” said, ooh, let’s win her back?

  “Jess, erase the quote of the day and go write that down on the wall.” I snapped my fingers at the moody teenager. I thought we were alone in the shop, but sadly that wasn’t the case.

  That would be just too easy.

  My life was anything but easy these days.

  Sitting down by the back tables with his laptop open was Maximilian my-other-ex-Dunnett.

  This was horrible.

  I hadn’t seen him since Sunday, aka the day of my breakdown followed by a small pity party that consisted of stuffing my face with all kinds of baked goods. He was looking at me with an expression I couldn’t read, which made me feel an ache because I used to be so attuned to him that he didn’t need to speak for me to know what he would say. He never had much of a poker face.

  Until now.

  Maximilian opened his mouth, and if he was anything like I remembered, he would apologize and leave. “I wasn’t under the impression I had done anything to ruin your life, Freya.”

  So, the guy was engaged. No big deal. He was marrying my high school nemesis. Good for him. It’s not like I cared or anything.

  “I wasn’t talking about you, Max. I was talking about Ashton.” The word vomit just happened; I didn’t know how to make it stop. I saw Emma cringe.

  I wanted to cringe.

  “As far as boyfriends go, you were awesome.” Oh God, please someone kill me right freaking now. Max stopped doing whatever it was he was doing on his laptop. His wrist rested on the table, he tilted his head to the side, and he stared at me. And by staring at me, I meant his gaze was scalding.

  “Freya, I need your help with the cookies,” Emma yelled, stopping me from making a bigger fool of myself.

  “I’ll see you around, Max. I have to go help with the cookies.” I ran my ass to the back where zero cookies were being baked. I didn’t turn back to look at Max. What he had said and what he had implied… He was angry, wasn’t he? He had to be. There was a sick part of me that hoped he was.

  “Cookies, Emma, really? Do I look like Betty freaking Crocker?”

  “Sorry, I panicked!” She eyed me warily. “Besides, Betty Crocker wasn’t even a real person.”

  She kept staring at me, probably wondering if I would have another breakdown, which I wasn’t going to. I had already met my personal quota on dramatics for the year. I noticed she was fidgeting with the strings of her apron. In the past few days, I had been trying to teach her to use her outer voice; she was the calm to my storm.

  “Spit it out, Emma.”

  “Is Ashton the reason you came home?”

  I was about to answer yes, but then I stopped myself, because if I was honest with myself, something I hadn’t been doing in a while, I knew saying yes would be a lie.

  “Yes and no. When I broke up with Ashton, it gave me the push I needed to get the fuck out of la-la land.”

  “Have you always been this crass?”

  “Yep.”

  Her shoulders sagged with acceptance, or maybe defeat, who knew. What I did know was I wanted an apron, and I had yet to get one.

  “How come we didn’t talk in high school?” I asked.

  “You were kinda… intimidating.”

  “I was not.”

  “You constantly got in trouble. You mouthed off to the teachers. You were like the anti-Christ.”

  I gasped. I wasn’t that bad.

  “Max left. It’s safe to come out,” Jess called, and Emma and I both looked at the now vacant space were Max had sat, just to make sure he was no longer there. Jess was no Emma; she wasn’t shy with her words.

  “So, you and Max have history? That explains all the looks between the two of you,” she said.

  “What looks? There are no looks,” I replied.

  She snorted in a very unladylike manner. “Please. The way you look at each other, I don’t know if its longing or hate, but it’s something.”

  “Do not.”

  “Right, then why did he change the quote of the day?” Jess crossed her arms, daring me to defy her. Emma and I quickly looked at the blackboard. I immediately recognized his handwriting and felt foolish for not having done so before. “Distance sometimes let you know who’s worth keeping and who’s worth letting go.”

  “What is he trying to say? That I wasn’t worth keeping? That it was okay to let me go?” Was I upset? Nope, not at all. I was livid, disappointed, and a little betrayed. I turned around, ready to go after him and demand an explanation, but Emma pushed me back.

  “Think rationally. Think happy thoughts. Here, eat a muffin and have some coffee. Or go clean that table. It’ll make you feel better.”

  “Oh, I’ll feel better after I give him a piece of my mind,” I muttered.

  Everything I did was for him, yet he had the audacity to say I wasn’t good enough? Unbelievable.

  “Freya, let it go,” Emma whispered. She was right. What good would it do if I chased after him? Nothing good. So I stayed in the shop, fuming over what Max wrote, probably overthinking everything. Still, I did as Emma said and ate a banana muffin, had some coffee, and cleaned tables all while I watched Emma do everything with such love and devotion. It got me wondering if I ever felt that way about anything.

  Sure, I liked my job; it was a good job, challenging, but I was never passionate about it. My vacation was slowly ending, each day going faster than the next, and I still had no idea what my next step or what my new dream would be.

  On the plus side, my grandpa and I were closer again, and I loved it. I couldn’t leave him again, but what was there for me to do in this small town? Could I live in the same town as Abigail and Max? I liked to think I could.

  Maybe.

  Possibly.

  It wasn’t like I pictured Max pining for me. Although that would have been nice. I knew he might have moved on. Now I needed my brain to get the memo. I tried to evade all thoughts Max related, but that didn’t work so well. My time went fast between thinking of my next move and what Max had meant by that cryptic quote. I should ask him, right? I mean, we were both mature adults. Acting civilized shouldn’t be a problem.

  “Bye, guys,” I hollered at Emma and Jess
at the end of my shift. My grandpa was picking me up today, except when I walked outside, it wasn’t my grandpa’s car parked and waiting for me. It was Rusty’s. He was sitting on the hood of a very shiny, black Ford that, if I wasn’t mistaken, was a now beautifully restored Bow.

  “You’ve been avoiding me,” Rusty drawled as soon as he saw me.

  I had been avoiding him ever since I found out he was married. I was butthurt about it and still trying to process the fact that my best friend got married and didn’t invite me. Sure, I left, but come on, he was like my brother, and he was a guy. Weren’t guys supposed to be like less sentimental or something, or was I being sexist?

  “Grandpa isn’t coming, is he?”

  He shook his head, not feeling an ounce of sympathy for me.

  Asshole.

  “I’m not avoiding you, but I’m also not seeking you out. Does that make sense?” His eyes flashed with annoyance. I had to admit, it wasn’t one of my finest moments.

  “At the risk of sounding pathetic, selfish, and egotistical—how could you get married and not invite me! I get that I left, but it’s not like I was out there getting engaged, getting married, or popping out babies.” My hands were waving like crazy because I was mad. Maybe I didn’t have a right to be mad, but that didn’t matter because I was hurt. Scratch that, it cut deep. Out of everyone, the last person I would have thought would forget about me was Rusty. “I feel like I didn’t even matter. ‘Oh, Freya left, so guess I won’t invite her to my wedding.’ Out with the old and in with the new.” My voice shook, so I shut up before I cried. Rusty was staring at me with an expression that could be pity, and he wasn’t talking. “Well, say something!”

  “You never reached out. I thought after a year, you would have called or texted me, but the years went by, and I figured you left this town behind you and wouldn’t want a reminder. By the time I got married, I’m not going to say I wouldn’t have wanted you there, but I think it was for the best you weren’t there.” I flinched at the last part. My eyes brimmed with unshed tears. “You blew this town, not caring about the mess you left behind. I needed you that year, but you weren’t here. Eugene was miserable without you, but for some insane reason, he said it was for the best, and don’t even get me started on Max.”