The Wayward Sons: Starlee's Heart: WhyChoose Contemporary Young Adult Romance

by Angel Lawson

  With those words he storms away, angry at something. Me? There’s a bit of muttering but they follow obediently, although George gives me a wink before he vanishes with the others.

  The store is small enough that I hear them at the checkout while I continue shopping. Arguing about soda flavors and candy. I take a last peek at them leaving the store, arms laden with bags of junk food. I wonder who these boys are—they aren’t the ones my mother warned me about. They shop for old ladies and bake pies. But they also get in fights and live in a group home. I don’t get it and suppose I never will, because I made a promise when I came out here. No boys, and I’m certain that includes the ones from the Wayward Sun.

  Leelee and I have made it through four episodes of Supernatural. At first, I wasn’t really sure what we were getting into, but I figured if Sierra actually built an entire business around the theme, there had to be something to it. One thing is for certain, Dean Winchester has the most amazing lips and beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen in my life.

  “I’m starting to understand Sierra’s obsession,” Leelee says, fanning herself at a shirtless Dean. It’s probably weird for a girl my age to hang out with my grandmother, but who else is there? I was used to hanging with my mom all the time anyway. Plus, the excitement of being able to watch TV without Mom’s judgement is exciting.

  We’re midway through the fifth episode, one called “Bloody Mary” about a group of girls at a slumber party. They conjure a spirit called Bloody Mary by saying her name in front of a mirror three times. Leelee announces, “I remember your mother playing this game with a group of friends one time. Scared the pants off of her. Her father had to drive down to pick her up. She didn’t sleep for a week and covered the mirror in her room with a blanket.”

  I grab a handful of popcorn, trying not to let the scary nature of the show get to me. “Mom went to slumber parties?”

  “All the time. The girls were always here or she was at someone’s house. She spent a lot of time down in June Lake with school friends, too.”

  The information lands like a punch and the popcorn grows sticky in my hand. Despite the fact I want to see what happens, I say, “I think I’m going to bed.”

  “You okay?” Leelee frowns in concern.

  “I’m just not feeling well. Too much popcorn probably.”

  I go to my room and shut the door. It’s not long before I hear the TV turn off and a knock on my door.

  “I’m fine,” I say, not wanting to talk. Leelee doesn’t seem interested in what I want and comes in anyway.

  “Tell me what’s wrong. Did the show scare you?”

  I shrug. “No. I know it’s fake.”

  “Then what? You’re obviously upset.”

  She sits next to me on the bed and lays her hand over mine. I feel a wave of emotion; anger and sadness. “I guess it hurts to know that Mom had friends like that when I wasn’t able to.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Slumber parties, ghost stories, brothers with a mission—even fictional ones. I missed out on all that. Mom didn’t let me do any of those things or give me the chance to try, I guess.”

  Leelee sighs. “Starlee, I’ve never understood why your mother made some of her choices. I had to assume that although it was extreme it was for your own good, but I can see why it would hurt to realize how much you missed.”

  “I just feel so lost,” I confess. “I’m scared and anxious all the time. Like today at the store, I saw the boys from next door and totally panicked.”

  “You did? What happened? Did they bother you?”

  “No, they were fine. Nice even. I ran away—pretended I didn’t see them.”

  Her eyebrows raise. “And how did that go over?”

  “Oh, they followed me and made me talk to them.” I look at my hands, feeling ashamed. “Or, George did. Dexter made them leave.”

  “Talking to people, people from your community and neighbors is a good thing, Starlee.”

  “But I promised Mom. No boys. And it’s really hard because those guys next door are everywhere.”

  “You’re right about that. It took me a while to get used to them. Especially George. God, he’s like a jackrabbit. Just all over the place.” She laughs and shakes her head. “Your mother left you here for a reason, to experience this little town and everything that comes with it. The boys next door are part of that. I trust them. I trust them with my business and my groceries and my computer and setting up my furniture. I also trust Sierra and the way she’s raised them, despite their struggles.”

  She squeezes my hand. “You’re not so different from them, you know. They were all new here, once upon a time. They may be able to help you.”

  “I don’t know if I can do that.”

  “You don’t have to. But I also don’t want you to think that the rules are the same here. I want you to spread your wings, Starlee. Experience life. Enjoy your time here.”

  “I’ll try.”

  She gives me a hug and whispers in my ear, “Let’s go finish that episode.”

  I nod and follow her, curious myself, because even if I’m too scared to make friends with the boys next door, watching the show makes me feel a little bit closer to them anyway.

  11

  The girl stands at the end of the bed, staring at the mirror. My mother’s mirror, white with carved roses at the top. Her image is reflected back. Long blonde hair, blue eyes. She opens her mouth and speaks.

  Bloody Mary.

  Bloody Mary.

  Bloody Mar—

  I jerk awake, blinking across the room. A shadow lingers at the end of the bed. Paranoia creeps up my back. My heart hammers. I fumble for the light, for the metal pull, and grab it, yanking down until the room is filled with warm yellow light.

  I’m alone.

  Stupid Supernatural.

  I sink back on my bed, facing the window. It takes a minute but my heart finally slows and I turn off the light again, knowing it’s too early to get up. I glance out the window and see a figure on the roof, his face tinted blue from the light of his phone or maybe a tablet.

  Jake.

  I look at my own clock and see that it’s only four a.m. An hour earlier than I normally get up for the sunset. I stand in the window watching him for a moment until he must feel my gaze. His eyes flick up and meet mine. I’m not sure how I feel when he waves at me, but I do know I don’t really feel like being alone.

  Stupid, stupid Dean Winchester and his stupid perfect face and Sam Winchester and his silky hair. They’re the reason I’m up at four a.m.

  Jake and I stare at one another for a minute before I grab my hoodie and shoes and head for the door.

  The cool early morning air hits my flushed cheeks and I pause for a minute remembering that my trashcan is…well, trashed. I look down the path, still dark, and feel the discomfort in my chest.

  “Starlee?” I hear my name whispered.

  “Jake?”

  He emerges from the side yard, breathing heavy. He probably jumped off the roof and over the fence. I think he really may be some kind of super-athlete. I step down the porch steps to meet him, not wanting to make too much noise near the house.

  “You’re up early.”

  “I had a nightmare.”

  His eyebrows furrow. “Oh. Something scary?”

  “Something stupid really. George brought over the Supernatural videos and me and Leelee have been watching them.”

  “Oh right. Scarecrow?”

  “What?” But my mind goes right to the episode with the scarecrow and the orchard. “No.”

  “Mental hospital? That one scared the crap out of Dexter.”

  “Really?”

  He shrugs. “Supernatural hits all the urban legends, eventually they show one that gets under your skin.”

  “What’s an urban legend?”

  “You don’t know what an urban legend is?”

  I shake my head, feeling stupid. It’s another reason to stay away from people my age. All those y
ears of isolation has made me lost.

  He shoves his hands in his pockets. “It’s like a myth or story that people tell or share on the internet that is made up, but eventually takes on a life of its own—like it really happened.” He glances sideways at me. “So, which one got to you?”

  I make a face, feeling like I’m revealing too much, but he’d been honest with me. “Bloody Mary.”

  He laughs. “Oh man, yeah that’s a classic. No shame in that one.”

  His laughter sends a prickle up my arms but I force myself to acknowledge it’s with me, not at me. It’s confusing—going against all my ingrained expectations.

  My feet hit the pavement and I realize we’re no longer in the yard. Jake has steered me away from the lodge, down to the sidewalk. Stopping abruptly, my eyes dart to the bench in front of the market and the little space where I’d watched the sunrise that day. The day Dugan attacked me.

  Jake stops and looks at me expectantly, then follows my eyes to the street. “Is that where the fight happened?”

  I nod, swallowing back the creeping anxiety. “I don’t think I should be out here.” Not in general. Definitely not with Jake Hollingsworth.

  “I know that was intense, but I’m here with you. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

  But what if he’s the danger? He was everything I’d been told to avoid. Cute, funny, strong. What if this was just a trick to get me alone—away from people? What if that’d been his plan all along?

  “We can go back,” he says. “But if you want, I can show you the best sunrise view in Lee Vines.”

  I recall what my grandmother said. She trusts these boys. Did that include being out a four a.m.? What I know for certain is that I’m tired. Tired of being scared and nervous. Tired of hiding and not having friends.

  I take a deep breath and look up at Jake; taking in his sharp cheekbones and wide shoulders. He may look like an All-American, but there was a reason he lived with Sierra. Something that, like Leelee said, made him not so different from me.

  “Okay,” I say, the words sounding like a whisper. “Let’s go watch the sunrise.”

  His smile in reply is just as blinding as the midday sun, and he keeps his hands in his pockets as he turns me down the street, toward the lake. I walk next to him, a safe space between us, feeling my world shift.

  What I don’t know yet is if that’s for better or worse.

  I’m still feeling the warm glow of the sunrise when the house phone rings.

  “Hello?”

  “Starlee!”

  “Hey, Mom.” I sit at the kitchen table. The cord to the phone stretches across the room.

  “Ready for your first day of school?”

  “Yep, I’m still in my pajamas and haven’t brushed my hair. So, completely prepared.”

  My mom and I have a few standing jokes about being homeschooled. One is that you get to work in your pajamas. The other is how much money we save on school clothes and other accessories like backpacks and lunch boxes. I’ve always laughed them off, like I agreed with the thriftiness, but deep down I was jealous of the back-to-school flyers with the sleek, shiny backpacks with names stitched across the fabric, silly pencil cases, and a trendy new lunchbox.

  “I know you’ll do great. Remember, any problems and you email the program director.”

  “I will.”

  “So, tell me what’s been going on?”

  Oh, how I want to, I think, the experience of the sunrise still so fresh. The way Jake and I walked down the long road, further than I’d been in that direction. We’d passed the school I didn’t even realize was there, the still-sleeping trailer park, and a little museum. He brought me to the edge of the town, overlooking the wide salt lake, perfectly blue in the shadows of the mountain. We climbed on a boulder bigger than a car, and Jake gave me his hand to help me to the top. We sat next to one another, faces shifting from shadowy to pink to orange as the sun rose in the east. He was right about it being the best spot to watch. It made my little place over the fence seem silly and lonely and incomplete.

  But I can’t tell her that, or about Supernatural or Dexter’s pie or how Charlie fixed Leelee’s computer. I can’t tell her anything, which is strange and unusual because for so long, she was my world.

  I lie to my mother for what may be the first time. “Nothing much. The tourist season is about to start, though. The cabins are all booked next week, so I think it’ll probably get busier.”

  “Ah, the tourist season. I remember it well.” She doesn’t say it fondly. Not for the first time, I wonder why my mother would send me somewhere she hated so much.

  “How about you? What have you been doing?” I ask, eager to change subjects.

  “I got a few new contracts that have been keeping me busy. I drove down to the beach for a few days—just to clear my head.”

  My mother loved the beach—I think because it’s the opposite of the mountains. I used to agree with her, but now I’m not so sure.

  “I should probably let you get started,” she says. “I’m sure Leelee will need your help in the office soon.”

  “Okay.”

  “Love you, sweetie.”

  “I love you, too,” I reply, carrying the phone over to the wall. I hang it on the cradle, feeling awkward and confused. I’d lied to my mom. I have a secret life I don’t want her to know about. It’s wrong, but at the same time it feels disturbingly right.

  “I know, you’re loading,” I mutter, getting more and more frustrated. I started my online work, Trig and Physics, both subjects my mother felt like I needed a head-start on before my senior year. The funny thing is that my academics were strong, homeschooled or not, but I’m starting to suspect that if I’m not busy with schoolwork, then what would I be doing? As a normal high school senior, I’d probably have a job, or friends, or even a boyfriend.

  But I’m not normal. Which is why I’m fighting with the laptop in my bedroom and considering throwing it across the room.

  “Why.Won’t.You.Load?”

  I’d done the first two assignments and went through the process of submitting them to my instructor. Something was jammed up though, or I was just doing it wrong, whichever, it wouldn’t let me turn it in.

  My mother would tell me to email the chatline but I’m too angry for that. Instead, I carry my computer down to the office, where Leelee is talking to Katie about the schedule for the day.

  “Starlee!” Katie says with a smile when I walk in. “Why the angry face?”

  “My computer’s being a jerk and won’t let me turn in my assignment.”

  “Assignment?”

  “Summer school,” I say. “Just to get ahead.”

  “You’re in summer school to get ahead?” Katie gives me a shocked face. Leelee smiles with amusement, further confirming that this isn’t a normal behavior.

  “Just in two subjects,” I say defensively. “Any idea on how to fix this?”

  “Nope,” Katie replies. “There’s a reason I’m cleaning rooms here.”

  “Have you tried turning it off?” Leelee asks. “That’s what Charlie always tells me to do.”

  “Actually, I have.”

  “Well, he’s probably at home if you want to go ask him.”

  I stare at my grandmother. “Do what?”

  She jerks her head in the direction of the Wayward Sun. “Go ask him. He’s a whiz and will figure it out way faster than any of us.”

  I glance at Katie and she shrugs. “She’s right. That’s who I’d ask.”

  “So, just go over there?”

  “Sure. Sierra has them doing all kinds of stuff for the house and shop. He’s probably around. I’m sure she’ll be fine with you borrowing his brain for a minute.”

  It’s either that or turn my first assignment in late, which I’m not a fan of. I’ve had straight A’s all through school. I have no plan on messing that up now.

  I inhale and grab my laptop, ignoring the amused expressions on Leelee’s and Katie’s faces. They p
robably have no problem asking for help. From a boy. In a house filled with boys. But I’m breaking, like, three rules doing it, and admitting that I can’t work out the issue myself.

  It’s late morning, which means the early rush is over at the coffee shop. A few customers linger at the tables scattered across the front yard and the strains of classic rock greet me before I open the door. Sierra’s at the small table that holds the cream and sugar, singing the lyrics like a rock star. The bell chiming announces my arrival and she looks up, surprised, but then smiles.

  “Starlee! Missed you this morning.”

  “Leelee brought me my mocha—I was busy with my school work.”

  “Ah right, I remember her saying that.” She wiped a mess off the table with a rag. “We were slammed with a group of tourists from Germany. I had to pull all the boys in to help. What’cha need? Refill?”

  Before I have a chance to answer, a figure appears in the door. Dexter stares out at me while wearing a white apron over his Wayward Sun T-shirt. There’s a smear of flour on his sharp cheekbone and in this very instant, he’s completely disarming.

  “No, actually,” I say, tearing my eyes away from Dexter and holding up my laptop, “I’m having issues turning in my assignment. Leelee said Charlie would be a good one to ask.”

  “Sure, anything to get him to put that brain to use and not just playing those freaking games.” She shakes her head. “Go back out and head through the other door—that’s the residence entrance.”

  “Thanks so much. I really don’t want to screw up this first assignment.”

  Sierra laughs. “Is this what it’s like having a girl? Studious? Conscientious? Are you sure you don’t want to move in here? I’m happy to make a trade with your grandmother.”

  Dexter scowls and vanishes back in the kitchen.

  “Don’t mind him. He’s not happy if he’s not cranky about something.”

  I want to ask her if he’s cranky about me in particular, because I haven’t had one encounter with him that didn’t result in him either rolling his eyes or snarling, but a customer walks in with two kids in tow.