by Amy Sparling
“Come on,” I say, leading the way to the back door. “It might be awkward at first, but soon you’ll be part of us.”
Gabe stops me right before I open the back door. He cups his hand to my face and smiles down at me. “You are the best thing to ever happen to me. Thanks for giving me a chance.”
My eyes burn as emotion wells up inside of me. I was just thinking of my mom, and now my closest friends, and Gabe. I want so badly for us to be as happy as we can be. I want what Livi and Mason have. Something tells me I’ve finally found it. I lift up on my toes and kiss him. “Thanks for driving all the way over here to find me.”
Outside, the smell of burgers on the grill makes my mouth water. Livi and Mason are already two beers in, so they tell us to catch up. I appreciate it though, because the buzz has them both laid back and friendly. They’re always friendly anyway, but this is the first time I’ve brought a guy over. I was half worried that they’d turn into judgmental interviewers whose sole purpose was to pick apart my new boyfriend to find all of his flaws.
Luckily, it’s not like that.
Mason talks to Gabe as if he’s an old friend, and soon Gabe is helping him man the grill. Livi and I sit on the edge of the pool, our toes dipped in the water while the lights inside make everything glow and sparkle. The stars shine brightly overhead, and the weather is just warm enough to still be comfortable. She tells me her good news, that Mason finally asked why she hasn’t moved into his bedroom yet, and I hug her and tell her I’m excited that they now officially live together.
We eat and drink and laugh, and all my worries melt away. It dawns on me that Livi and Mason aren’t the type of people to be judgmental. They trust me and they care about me, and if I tell them I’m totally enamored with this new guy, then they’ll believe it. They trust that he’s a good guy because I think he’s a good guy.
I seriously can’t get any better friends than these two.
Hours fly by, and soon it’s midnight. The music is still playing, and the conversation flows like we’ve all known each other forever. Livi and I still have our toes in the water, and now we’re enjoying Mason’s homemade frozen margaritas. I look over at Gabe, who is sitting on a patio chair just behind me. He winks at me.
Then I look at my best friend, who just a few months ago was a stranger, and I think about how wonderful life can be. It brings new people into your world just at a time when you need them the most. You can spend your whole life living in the same small town, and yet still somehow find the people you were supposed to be with all along.
Livi smiles at me, her blonde hair glowing under the moonlight. I remember when I first saw her enter my bakery with her grandmother. She looked stressed out and a little lost, but soon she became a regular customer, and then my best friend. I smile back at her, and then close my eyes and lean my head back toward the stars. A warm breeze trickles across my hair, and behind me, Mason and Gabe are bonding over their shared love of the Astros baseball team.
I don’t know exactly when it happens, but it does. Everything changes, somehow. Friendship, love, happiness. It’s all here now. I open my eyes and stare up at the stars, knowing that this is the start of something new.
And it’s going to be wonderful.
***
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Also by Amy Sparling
When Zoey Fell Too Far
Read an excerpt below:
Chapter 1
“I wonder what the name of this place even means,” I say as I gaze up at the golden letters above Sur La Table, the store my cousin Dana is currently dragging me to against my will.
“Something, something table,” she says with a little shrug as she steps around a toddler who is eating an ice cream cone and leaving a trail of sticky melted drops behind her.
I stop short so the kid doesn’t crash into me and her mom calls for her to get out of my way. I nod politely to the woman, even though I’d rather say, Lady, watch your damn kid.
“Well la means the, right?” I say, jogging to catch up with her. “So maybe it means set the table.”
“Or serve the table,” Dana suggests, her eyes on the prize.
The prize, of course, is this stupid kitchen store. It’s like a Toys-R-Us but for people who love to cook, group of people of which I am most definitely not. I’m more of a PB&J person, or maybe if I’m feeling particularly domestic, I’ll heat up a frozen pizza in the oven.
When it comes to cooking, just about everyone I know enjoys it to some degree. My mom is a pretty good cook. But Dana? She’s excellent. Her dad, my Uncle James, owns and is the head chef of this upscale restaurant called Steakout. Dana was raised in the kitchen, chopping veggies and kneading dough, all in the name of the magic that is professional cooking.
Dana is not only my cousin, she’s also my best friend. It is because of this special cousin/BFF bond that I’m letting her drag me to the kitchen store in the first place. The entire mall isn’t really my scene, but if I do find myself at Somerton Mall, it’s because I’m going to the bookstore.
“So what are we here for again?” I say as we enter the utopia of kitchen gadgets. “A melon baller?”
Dana throws her long black hair over her shoulder. “That was last time. Now we need a garlic press.” She narrows her eyes at me, looking almost exactly like my mother does when I’m being petulant. “Don’t even give me that face, Zoey. You’ll be loving my garlic press once you taste the cheesy bread I’m going to make tonight.”
I roll my eyes, but the sarcastic gesture falls flat because she’s absolutely right. Dinner cooked by Dana is quite possibly the best thing ever, second only to a dinner at Steakout cooked by Uncle James.
I busy myself by playing with the display utensils while Dana talks to a saleswoman about the best type of garlic press. There really are a lot of cool gadgets in here, but none of them interest me.
Cooking will never be in my wheelhouse, and the sooner I accept that the sooner I can figure out what I do want to do with my life.
Dana has hers all figured out—graduate high school next year, go to the culinary institute, then work at her dad’s place until she can strike out on her own and open a restaurant.
Me? Well, I have no idea. I’m not exactly proud to admit it, but I’m kind of boring. Plain.
I’m the gray sheets of construction paper in a pack of rainbow colors. Vanilla ice cream and original flavor. That kind of thing. My only hobbies include making sure my homework is done on time and occasionally running with Dad in the mornings on the days I stay with him.
My parents are divorced, and have been since I was a baby. They’re still close friends and they’re both great parents so my custody agreement is a little weirder than most people’s. I spend exactly half of my life with each of them. One week with Mom, one week with Dad, rinse and repeat.
I have two houses, two bedrooms, and two wardrobes.
You’d think that with living two lives for seventeen years, I’d be able to have two hobbies. Maybe even two different personalities. My Mom Life personality could be one of a dancer, or a fitness guru who spends all her time at the gym, and my Dad Life personality could be an artist, someone with paintings all over her walls. Instead I’m just plain Zoey Caplan, the girl who gets good grades and follows the rules and only has one best friend. It doesn’t bother me. Not really. Although lately sometimes I’ve been thinking about it, about my life and how seemingly boring it is. Sometimes I daydream about something interesting happening to me, like a magic rock falling from the sky and giving me powers or something. In the end though, none of that ever happens and I’m alwa
ys stuck back in the real world where my life isn’t exactly terrible, but it’s nothing special either.
I glance over my shoulder and find Dana still deeply absorbed in her conversation with the saleswoman. At least now she’s set down two of the garlic presses and she’s holding onto one, talking about it like it might be the one, the press that will make all of her garlic mashing dreams come true.
I slip into an aisle of cookbooks just to look at the pretty pictures of food on the covers. One of them, a bright orange book with a dish of some kind of soup on the cover, has a big blue headline that promises it can help even the worst cooks become talented in no time. I snort. Yeah, right.
I set the book back on the shelf and wander into a section of pots and pans. They catch my attention because they’re all shiny and new, without grease stains or scratches on the surface. God, I hope Dana hurries up because the boredom of this place may just kill me.
I can see the headlines now: Zoey Caplan, dead at seventeen. Doctors confirm boredom related death due to being forced to spend hours in a kitchen store.
“Excuse me.”
I turn toward the sound of the voice, which comes from the only other person in this part of the store. He must be talking to me.
“Yes?” I say, finding myself standing in front of Alex Blackwood, a senior at my high school.
He’s tall and cute, but not nearly as cute as most of the guys he hangs out with at school. He’s in the popular crowd, the same group of athletes that have been friends since we were in Kindergarten. I don’t know what sport he plays, just that he plays something.
Alex blinks. “Sorry, I thought you worked here.”
I bark out a sarcastic laugh. “Yeah freaking right. I’d go insane in a store like this. I mean who even likes cooking?”
He laughs. “Tell me about it. I’m supposed to find a sauce pan in stainless steel for my mother and I have no freaking clue what that is. I mean, can’t you cook sauce in anything?”
Normally I’d agree with him, but since I’ve spent the better part of a decade listening to Dana and her cooking talk, I know the answer he’s looking for. “Sauce pans are small,” I say, looking over the rack of pots and pans in front of us. “I don’t know why they need to be small, but they are.”
I grab a stainless steel one off the shelf. “This would work.”
“Look, the tag even says sauce pan,” he says, pointing to the paper tag hanging off the end. His smile brightens. “You’re a lifesaver. Thanks.”
“No problem, Alex.”
He stops, turning on his heel, one eyebrow raised as he looks at me. “Do we know each other?”
I shouldn’t be embarrassed here; of course I’m the kind of girl who’s always been invisible to a guy like Alex Blackwood. I shrug. “I go to Somerton High. I think we’ve had a few classes together,” I say, and then because I feel the need to explain more so I don’t seem like some kind of stalker, I add, “Plus, who can forget the name of the guy who filled the principal’s car up with water balloons?”
“Twice,” he says, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “I did that prank twice.”
“Too bad you got caught the second time,” I say. “It was pretty epic.”
He nods, turning the pot over in his hands. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Zoey. I’m uh, a senior too.” I don’t know why I sound like such an idiot, but talking to guys brings it out in me, I guess.
He watches me a second, and when he doesn’t say anything I figure I should probably go, like now, to avoid any more awkwardness. “See ya,” I say.
“Wait.” Alex follows me back through the store, tapping the bottom of the sauce pan on his palm. “You want to see a movie together?”
“Uh, sure.”
Is this happening?
“I’m free tonight,” Alex says with a little why not shrug. “It’s Saturday, after all. The best day of the week to see movies.”
“Tuesday is half off night, so technically that’s the best night to see movies,” I say, trying like hell to hold back the blush from my cheeks. I’m pretty sure I just got asked out on a date. I mean, right? That’s what’s happening?
Alex’s tongue flits across his bottom lip. “Yeah, but I don’t want to wait that long. You should go with me tonight.”
Yes, that’s definitely what’s happening here.
“Sure.” In the distance, I see Dana checking out at the register, her dark eyes narrowing in on us, taking in the incredibly odd situation of her dorky cousin being asked out by one of the popular guys at school.
“What’s your number?” Alex says, handing over his phone for me to type it in. “I’ll text you later and we can plan something.”
I type it in and hand his phone back, my fingers shaking from anticipation and freaking out and all kinds of things I didn’t know I could feel because I’ve never actually been in this situation.
I mean there was Bryan Monarch in seventh grade, but that doesn’t really count.
Dana’s eyes widen and she gives me this you go girl grin. I glance up at Alex.
“Sounds like fun,” I say. I don’t even have to fake the cheer in my voice because I’m kind of freaking out right now.
When Alex grins, there’s a dimple in his left cheek. “Cool,” he says, sliding his phone back in his pocket. “I’ll see you later tonight.”
Dana waits for me outside of the store, and the second I walk out to her, she starts bouncing on her toes. “What was Alex Blackwood doing with his phone and you?”
I bite my lower lip. “He was asking me on a date,” I say, keeping my voice low.
“Oh my God,” she squeals, grabbing my hand and pulling me with her. “You’ve never been on a date.”
“I know!”
“You’ll be fine.”
“I know,” I say, trying to believe it.
Dana sighs and gives me this sad look. “But there is one bad thing.”
“What is that?”
She shrugs and makes this exaggerated kissy face. “You’ll need fresh breath before you make out with Alex freaking Blackwood, so that means no garlic bread for you.”
***
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About the Author
Amy Sparling is the author of The Summer Unplugged Series, Ella’s Twisted Senior Year, Deadbeat & other awesome books for teens and the teenagers at heart. She loves coffee, the beach, and swooning over book boyfriends.
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