by Jami Wagner
I keep walking and her car continues to creep along next to me. It would probably make the most sense to just take her up on her offer, but come on—since when in the last few months or even year did I choose the easy route? Nope, I have to make life as complicated as can be.
“Finally!” she cheers out the window, removing her hands from the wheel to clap.
A horn honks, and I trip myself as I jump from the noise.
“Jackass!” Beth hollers behind her. “I’ll see you there!” she shouts to me and then flashes a grin before driving off. Her middle finger also went up between her seats for the guy behind her.
Beth doesn’t waste time getting to the point in any topic. She knows everyone in this town, and she is always willing to help out any way she can. As many times as I’ve seen her volunteer to help someone, she can’t make any time for herself. If I could give her advice on anything in life without a ton of follow-up questions, it would be that you need to take care of yourself first. If you don’t, you’ll end up like me, and this isn’t the life I’d wish upon anyone.
I reach the gym, other members entering and exiting through the sliding doors. Some have eager faces ready for a workout, and some look ready for a nap. The only actual workout I’ve done here is yoga, where I met both Alex and Beth. That’s a class that will put you to sleep when it’s over, for sure.
“Skylar!”
I twist to see who has called my name. Alex. Her blonde hair shines against the sun, and she has a smile on, like always. Jake, her boyfriend’s son, is next to her with a basketball tucked under his arm.
“What are you two up to today?” I ask, mainly directing the question toward Jake.
“Alex is gonna shoot some ball with me,” he answers, switching the ball to rest under his other arm.
“That sounds fun.”
“Do you want to join us?” Alex offers. I walk next to her and Jake as we head inside.
“Oh, no thank you, I have some things I have to do before it gets dark.”
“All right, well, I bet we’ll be here for a couple hours if you change your mind,” she says over her shoulder, as she has to speed up her steps to follow Jake down the hall toward the basketball court.
Once I step into the locker room and adjust to the overwhelming smell of eucalyptus, I stash my bag in my locker and change into the only pair of sweat pants I packed in my dash to get out of my parents’ home before they could see me and change my mind. Then again, I most likely could have walked right by them and they wouldn’t have noticed.
I grab my hoodie and the list of goals I made when I left, lock up, and leave the gym. I’ll add stop being homeless to the list as soon as I find a pen.
I head to the coffee shop across from the town park where I read every section of the newspaper until they close at eleven, like I always do on the nights I have to sleep outside. After they close, I find the same tree next to the same bench and I sit back against the bark. How did I let myself get here?
I never let myself think for too long on whether I would prefer to be married into a family for money—which is exactly where my life was headed before I left—or out here alone, creating my own way. I could be in Washington right now, sitting on Mack’s brown leather couch, snuggled under his arms as we watch a Nicholas Sparks movie … no wait … that’s right … I’d be in the kitchen making dinner and cleaning his house like the good little wife he was trying turn me into while he sat in his office making a list of ways for me to present our relationship better to the public eye. That memory alone makes it easier to decide that, homeless or not, this is where I’d rather be. Being me and only me instead of the girl everyone thinks I should be.
Chapter Two
Luke
“Ladies, ladies, ladies, how many times do I have to tell you that you can flutter your eyes, perk up your chest, and flash those award-winning smiles at me, but last call is last call?”
I wipe the counter near the women in front of me who are now pouting. One has long, black hair and skin so pale I’m not sure I didn’t serve her too many drinks. The other, in the middle, has bright red hair like my good friend Beth, but not nearly as long and it doesn’t look as well cared for, either. The last woman, she has short blonde hair and a silver dress so tight I’m afraid if she leans forward any more than she is now, her breast might fall out.
Don’t get me wrong, I love a nice rack, but I only want to see them on the woman I’m with and definitely only when it’s intended for me. In this case, it might be the latter, but I’m not interested in her or any other girl. A man’s got to have his priorities straight, and a woman in my life right now, one-night stand or not, isn’t in the cards for me. I have a mother and two sisters who need my undivided attention.
The blonde leans forward and, yep, that’s definitely a nip. I glance away. I’m a bartender and bookstore owner. They don’t exactly go hand in hand, but they keep me busy. Like tonight—when I get off work here around midnight, I need to head to the bookstore and place the order I was working on before that trip to my mom’s. The store isn’t sold yet, so I have to maintain it until then. That means everything needs to go as smoothly as I can make it. People want to buy a store ready to open, not a fixer upper.
“Luke, you’re always treating us so good when we come in here. Why not let us drink a little more and we can return the favor when you get off?”
Of course the blonde would be the one to make this suggestion. I’m pretty sure her name is Sally or Sandy. I should have this memorized by now because during the summer semester, these three have come in every Tuesday and Thursday night. They’ve already mentioned they will be here for the fall semester, too.
I settle the rag in my hands over my shoulder and lean forward on the bar.
“That’s a tempting offer, but I already have plans after work.” I shoot her a wink—I have to keep the customers coming back, after all—before I move on to my next piece of side work.
“Alright! Everyone out!” Beth shouts from the front door. She smiles at customers as they exit; the trio of ladies are the last to leave. Beth locks the door, turning to me when she’s done. It’s a look I’ve seen many times before. Because I grew up with her and now work with her, she knows me better than any other girl around. Maybe about as equal as Sara or Kelsey, a couple of our other closer friends, but still it’s a look only the girls give me.
It says, “I’m about to give you a speech a mother would give.”
“Stop.” I chuckle and hold up my hand. “I know exactly what you’re going to say, and I’m fine.”
At a leisurely pace, she crosses her arms and heads toward the bar. From the corner of my eye, I see my buddy Conner approaching us with a crate of clean glasses.
“And what am I going to say?” Beth asks.
“That it’s time I go out and have some fun. That I don’t need to put all this pressure on myself. Same speech I get from you every night we’ve closed together for the last month.” She’s close enough now that I flick my wet hands at her, sprinkling her with water. She shrinks back and laughs.
“I hate it when you do that! And no, I was not going to say that.”
“You weren’t?”
“I was going to say that when you do decide to be my old friend Luke once again, please promise you will find a woman who is much more mature and a hundred percent less desperate than those three.” She points to the door.
“I agree with Beth,” Conner says from behind us, where he is stocking the shelf with dishware.
“I still think you should ask Skylar out,” Beth adds. Her new friend has been in town for a while, but I have seen her less than a handful of times. She hardly ever talks and always seems on edge. She’s hot, though. So that’s a plus. But, like always, my friends forget where I’m at in my life.
“Maybe if I’m still single in a year or two, sure. I’ll go for it.”
“A year or two? At this rate, I can put money on yes, you will still be single. Come on, Luke,” Beth ple
ads, but I just keep shaking my head and laughing. She doesn’t give up easily.
“Dude, if you don’t go on at least one date with her, Beth will never stop asking,” Conner says. “At least do it for me so I can stop listening to her talk about it. Or better yet, why don’t the two of you go out?”
“Ick, no,” Beth answers. “Freshman year when we all went to our first high school party, Luke got so drunk trying to impress that senior chick, Annie or some crap, that he threw up all over me when I carried him to my car—which I had snuck out from my parents, might I remind you?—and then he threw up again in their car, twice.” She wiggles two fingers at both me and Conner. “That was the day I put Luke in the forever friend zone.”
Conner throws his head back with a laugh and I just grin. I did manage to get Annie’s attention at the party that night, but that’s only because I tripped over a table and fell on her right before Beth hauled me out.
“I wasn’t that bad,” I say.
I don’t defend myself too much because it probably was that bad. That was my first party, and it definitely wasn’t my last. High school was fun for me.
“Oh, please, I don’t even want to get started on all the other times I drove you home. But lucky for you, the whole good guy thing you have going on continues to win me over.”
“At least there’s that,” Conner adds. He glances my way, and the look in his eyes is one I saw numerous times growing up. It’s a look that says, “You are not going to like what I’m about to say.”
“You really should start going out again—maybe not drink or anything since you don’t do that anymore, but it’s been a while since we’ve all hung out,” he says.
“Yeah, you’ve taken on so much in the last year, Luke. Have some fun again,” Beth adds.
There is no such thing as fun when you’re broke and have family that needs your money more than you do.
“I appreciate the concern and knowing you are all here for me, but my family needs me, and without my dad, I can’t let them down.”
“No one thinks you have to—”
“I know. I want to, though.”
Beth sighs with a half-smile before she heads to the back, and Conner pats me on the shoulder. “Head to the store and finish up. We can close here.”
“Are you sure?” I ask.
They both nod.
“I’ll be back in thirty minutes, tops,” I say, backing toward the door and heading off in a jog for the two blocks to the bookstore.
This will give me a little extra time to check out the apartment over the store. I love my mom, but a man needs his space, so moving back home from my apartment across town isn’t an option. I’ve been debating whether to just suck it up and keep bills and money tight or to move into the bookstore apartment, even though I know the room, after you take in account the kitchen space and bathroom, is only big enough to fit a twin-size bed and a small table. The walls need repainted, and the place has done nothing but collect dust over the last few years.
I need the money.
I can suck life up later. Right now, I need to do what’s best for more than just me.
Skylar
This list of things I’ve never gotten to do just keeps getting longer. I have paint my nails pink, wear animal print, wear jean shorts with holes in them, oh, maybe I should add “color my hair.” I mean, I love my blonde hair, but changing it would be different, and who knows? Maybe I am the kind of person who dyes her hair all the time. Actually, I bet just a streak of some color, like bright blue or green, would be fun.
Who am I kidding? Would I being doing it because I can or because it’s what I want? Okay, cross that one off. What’s next?
Swear out loud.
Pretty sure I’ve done this since I’ve been here, but just in case …
“Shit!”
I pinch my lips together and lean back against the tree as I try to hide my smile. Not that anyone is watching me. It’s probably midnight or later, and I doubt anyone heard me either. If I had a phone I’d check the time, but when I left that night, I didn’t want to chance anyone tracing my phone calls, so I left my phone behind. Kind of wish I hadn’t done that now that I can’t afford one.
A yawn sneaks up on me as I cross cursing off the list. I should try to get some sleep tonight since I am going into the BA tomorrow. I add one last line—get the job at the bar—and then I tuck the paper into my pocket and curl up on the ground, moving until I find a position in the grass that will let me rest.
* * *
There are many noises I would prefer to never wake up to, or even be kept awake because of, and the sound of shattering glass is in the top three on my list. Bloody murder screams and a chainsaw come in pretty damn close for first and second.
My head jerks up as more glass breaks. I wasn’t even officially asleep and that noise is just as frightening. I survey my surroundings quickly as I sit up, wrapping my arms around my bent knees. The eerie quiet of the night and lack of life around me increases my heartbeat. I’ve sleep here numerous times, and this is the first I’ve felt as though my heart is going to pound out of my chest in fear before the murderer can find me and kill me off himself.
Shoot, why do I always have to think the extremes?
More glass breaks, followed by numerous loud thuds. I move to my feet quickly, pinning my back to the tree stump, and crossing my fingers that I blend in. More thuds sound from somewhere behind me and then the glass noise stops. Like an idiot, I peek around the tree. Two figures dressed in all black run out a door and pass under a street lamp in a flash before disappearing around a corner.
Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. What do I do? Puke? Yes, I definitely feel something happening in my stomach right now.
I’m not sure how many minutes pass before I finally release the breath I’m holding and step around the tree toward the doorway they came from.
Turn around, Sky; no good will come from you going over there. I take another step and stop. But what if someone is inside and they’re hurt and I’m the only person around? Another step. Or what if there are more than two intruders and the others are still inside just waiting for someone to show up? I pause.
Of course I’m the only person out here in the middle of the night to do something about it. I choke back the fear.
I quicken my steps and when I reach the door, I find it still closed. There are two large windows on either side of the entrance. One window is completely broken out, which is why I’m crunching glass under my shoes.
The other window, the one that sits unbroken, has a bold white sign that reads Warren’s Books. The hours are clearly visible below the name. Why did they only break the glass on one side? I poke my head inside; the register is in pieces on the floor near a counter and the shelves are either knocked over or in pieces, with books covering the floor. I lean in farther, making sure I scan every inch before coming to the conclusion it’s safe to proceed, when I lose my balance and reach for the door to steady myself. A broken piece of glass sticking off the door slices open my palm. I jump back, clenching my hand.
“Holy mother—”
Footsteps. Someone is headed this way, and they’re coming fast. Where can I go? If someone sees me standing here, they’ll think I did this. Yeah, I don’t have a job, a home, or even a place I have to be tomorrow, but I prefer having nothing to sitting in a jail cell.
Luke
The last thing I expect to find when I get to my family’s store is the very same chick Beth was encouraging me to ask out standing in front of the door, broken glass on the ground beneath her.
“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” I yell, picking up the jogging pace I already had when I rounded the corner.
“I … I …” she stutters as her brows rise and her eyes begin to gloss over.
“What did you do?” I yell louder now that I’m standing in front of the store and can view all the damage she has done—including the broken cash machine. My reflex is to immediately grab her wrist.
“I didn’t take it I didn’t do this.” She stumbles over her words as tears fall from her eyes. “I heard it while I was sleeping.” She attempts to pull her arm back, but I don’t let up on my grip.
“Where were you sleeping?” There are apartments across the park, but I doubt you could hear anything all the way over there.
“I was …” She looks at the park across the street.
“That’s right, you can’t even think fast enough to make up an excuse,” I snap. I don’t even know how to act right now. This can’t be happening. I shouldn’t be mean to her. Then again, she did just destroy my bookstore. She doesn’t deserve kindness.
“No, I didn’t do it, because I was sleeping in the park!” she yells back, swiping the tears away with her free hand.
Dirt on her sweats and a grass stain on her heather gray hoodie.
She’s homeless.
“Oh, that makes even more sense. A homeless girl breaks into my store for money so she doesn’t have to sleep on the ground. Is that it?”
“No, that wasn’t it at—”
“What, the money wasn’t enough? You had to trash the place, too?” Some people will never learn the lesson of what hard work and dedication truly means. No, people like her want to take instead of earn.
The siren from a police car parking on the curb next to us causes her to jump. I take the moment of advantage and hold her by the shoulders in front of me with both hands. Blonde hair pulled back into a high ponytail hits my face as her head drops forward. I flinch to get it out of my eyes and … whoa. Sweet ass. Sweats look good on her. Too bad she’s a felon.
“Officer Maron,” I say, redirecting my attention to my buddy Tyler’s father, who used to catch us sneaking beers from his fridge when we were high school, as he gets out of his patrol car. “This girl did this,” I nod back toward my store.