I walked slowly, taking in each house I passed. There was still a good amount of light in the sky, but it was also officially dusk. Lights came on in the houses and a couple times I heard parents calling for children to come inside.
I walked a circle around the neighborhood, looking for any semblance of something different, but each house felt the same. The facades varied slightly, sure, but from what I could tell they were all middle class homes with mini vans in the driveways and tricycles in the grass.
The ball in my stomach grew heavier with each step. All around me were sounds I knew should have felt comforting. Happy chatter floating through open windows. Crickets chirping. The last few kids left outside shouting and laughing.
But I was anything but happy.
I was in hell.
*
I turned my head the other way, trying to get away from the light. It didn’t work. The morning sun spilled through the window, filling up the room. I huffed angrily and sat up in bed. For some stupid reason, I hadn’t even thought of closing the curtains the night before.
Slowly, I climbed out of bed. There was no point in just shutting the curtains and going back to hide between the sheets. Once I was fully awake, falling asleep again was usually impossible.
Instead, I wiggled out of my pajama shorts and into a pair of leggings. The tank top I’d slept in was long enough that it looked at least semi-stylish and, besides, there was no need to impress my aunt and uncle.
Or probably anyone else in that town.
The house was eerily quiet as I walked down the hall and into the living room. The door across the main area was open, revealing the master bedroom. One corner of a neatly made bed peeked from around the door frame. I took a few steps forward and craned my neck to look into the room, but it was just as empty as the rest of the house.
A little confused, I headed back down the hall towards the kitchen. Why would my aunt and uncle have left without telling me they were going somewhere first?
A piece of paper sat on the kitchen table, the corner of it held down by a vase full of roses. I snatched it up, eager for an explanation.
Grace,
Help yourself to anything in the fridge. There’s coffee in the cabinet. I’ll be back from work by five. In the shed is a bike you can use to get to know Crystal Brook better. Don’t forget the helmet!
- Aunt Ginger
Work. Duh. They’d both gone to work. With a start, I realized I didn’t even know what their jobs were. I would need to find some inconspicuous way to work that topic into the conversation at dinner that night.
After helping myself to a banana from the fruit bowl, I went back to the guest room to grab my makeup and toiletry bags. The cabinet in the bathroom held a thick stack of towels, and I took one out to hang on the door of the shower while I soaped up.
I took extra time doing my hair and makeup, going darker on the eyes than I usually did. My hair had a nice natural wave to it, thanks to my Colombian mom, and I opted to let it go natural instead of straightening it. The humidity in Crystal Brook was hell, and I knew better than to try and fight Mother Nature when it came to hair. If I flat ironed my locks they would end up frizzy and obscenely thick by noon.
The shed mentioned in the note stood at the end of the driveway. Small and with peeling red paint, the structure looked like it could contain anything off of a long list of potential horrors. The one that terrified me the most was spiders.
At my touch, the door moved the slightest bit. I nudged it open the rest of the way with my shoe and held my breath while I waited for a whole nest of black widows to launch themselves at my face. When that didn’t happen, I exhaled sharply and grabbed the handlebars of the powder blue bike. It was one of those old school ones that you have to back pedal to stop. Admittedly, it was pretty stylish, what with its woven straw basket. Going up hills would be torture, but at least I would look cute.
I left the helmet where I found it: in the basket. No way was I stupid enough to mar my appearance by placing an upside down plastic bowl on my head.
The wheels seemed to be good and full of air — not that I knew a whole lot about biking — and I cruised out and onto the sidewalk.
The sticky air flew by, almost feeling like dry California heat as it zoomed across my cheeks. The houses on the block were all still and quiet, and I wondered just what time it was. Although I’d checked my phone since waking up, I hadn’t bothered to note the hour. It was odd to nonchalantly lose track of time. It was almost like being on vacation.
No. This is not a vacation. This is temporary limbo.
I slowed down to take the corner. If I remembered correctly, downtown wasn’t much farther away. Maybe I could find the library and lose myself for a couple hours in fashion magazines. Or maybe I would collect some applications from the local businesses and keep my aunt and uncle off my back by having them at least think I was searching for a job.
The houses got bigger and older looking, and I knew I was headed in the right direction. On the drive from the airport, the historic looking homes had been right past the downtown area.
A woman wearing a straw hat kneeled in a flower garden working in the soil. She waved at me, and I stared back. No way did I know her… and no way could she know me. Maybe the town really was that small. Maybe the arrival of any new person was big news.
I didn’t have much time to think about it because a familiar house appeared across the street. Two stories. Bright yellow paint. A white picket fence around the front yard.
My heart rate sped up. It was Hot Profile Guy’s house.
I slowed the bike down, cruising as slowly as possible while still maintaining movement. Someone moved on the other side of the black SUV parked at the end of the house’s driveway, and I held my breath. A second later, he appeared…
And he was just as sexy as I knew he would be. With a strong, square jaw and eyes so blue I could see them from across the street, the sight sent a slight tremor through my whole body.
I tried to pedal even slower, but the bike wobbled. I went to right it, but the front wheel bounced over the curb. A blue mass appeared, obscuring my vision. The bike hit the giant recycling bin, knocking it over. Down I went, tumbling over the handlebars and landing half on the pavement and half on a smelly pile of egg cartons and pizza boxes.
Quick as a flash, I scrambled up, pulling the bike with me.
“Are you all right?” a male voice asked.
He hurried across the street, looking both ways for traffic as he did so. Up close, the different shades of caramel and sand in his hair were visible, making him more of a dark blond than I had thought.
He stopped a few feet away, reaching his hand out but not touching me.
“Are you okay?” he asked again.
“Y-Yeah,” I stammered.
My left knee throbbed a bit from where it had hit the pavement, but I already looked like a big enough doofus for losing control of the bike. I wasn’t going to draw my embarrassment out further by complaining about injuries.
Think, a small part of my brain commanded the rest of my mind. Come up with a good excuse for crashing.
I couldn’t, though. All I could focus on was the face in front of me. The light stubble dotting the square jaw. The hint of a dimple in the chin. The way the most perfect lips ever stretched into a slow smile.
“You sure?” he asked.
I nodded heartily. “Yeah, totally. I was just… looking at this bird in the tree up there.” I nodded over my shoulder and forced a laugh. “It’s so silly.”
He bent down and started pushing the spilled recycling into the bin. “I’m glad you’re all right. And I’m sure Mrs. Henderson appreciates you trying to take care of her recycling for her, but the truck will be here in an hour or so.”
I laughed at his joke. “Oh, darn. I was hoping to get my good deed for the day out of the way,” I cracked.
He righted the recycling bin and looked at me. From the way his eyes were trained on my face, I coul
d tell he was already interested in me. Casually, I flipped my hair over my right shoulder.
“Thank you for coming to my rescue,” I murmured in a soft voice.
He smiled. “I’ve never seen you around.”
“I’m visiting my aunt and uncle.”
“Ah. For how long?”
I quickly ran over possible answers in my head, finally deciding that the truth would actually benefit me in this case. “It’s undetermined. I’m just taking a little break from city life.”
His face lit up even more. “Which city?”
“L.A.” I cocked my hip and leaned the bike against it. My knee still ached, but I was determined to not let a trace of pain show on my face.
“I’m sorry,” he said, extending his hand. “I didn’t introduce myself. Luke Anderson.”
“Grace Wells.” I took his palm and instantly gave his handshake a rating of a ten. Warm and strong. Hopefully, he was like that in every regard.
“I can show you around some time, if you like.”
I tried not to reveal just how excited the prospect made me, only allowing a cool smile to surface on my face. “That would be nice, Luke Anderson.”
He grinned again. “All right, Grace Wells.” He glanced down at his wristwatch. “Unfortunately, I have to run. But let’s meet up soon?”
“Sounds great.”
“You know where I live, obviously.”
I lightly giggled. “Obviously.”
“Stop by tomorrow morning? Around ten?”
I did a mental cartwheel. “I’ll be here.”
He started walking backwards across the street, not even bothering to look for traffic this time. “See you then.”
I waved. “Bye.”
He climbed into his SUV, and I hopped back on my bike to continue down the sidewalk. My knee protested, but I pushed through the pain.
I bit my bottom lip as I pedaled, trying to keep the giant smile at bay until I was safely out of Luke’s vision. I couldn’t wait to text Rainy and let her know about my good fortune.
So I was still stuck in the middle of nowhere for an undetermined amount of time. But it looked like an opportunity had arisen for me to have some fun while in exile. After all, what could make any bad situation better than a hot guy to hook up with?
First official summer fling of my life, here I come.
CHAPTER FIVE
Grace
I didn’t go downtown. Instead, I circled around the block and headed right back for the house. I had less than a day to get ready for my small-town rendezvous with Luke, and that meant that it had immediately become the number one priority in my life.
I unpacked the entire contents of my suitcases, laying them out on the bed to inspect each dress, top, and a pair of pants or shorts.
The number one rule of dressing for a first date was trying your best while making sure you looked like you were doing anything but that.
I had narrowed it down to four outfits when my cell phone rang. My heart did a flip at the sight of my dad’s picture. Could it be that he was already calling to tell me he’d worked things out, and I could return to L.A?
Immediately, I began concocting excuses as to why I decided not to return to NYU after all. Too straight laced, I’d tell Madi and anyone else who wanted to know. My old Ethics teacher begged me to return, but I’m just so tired of the whole academic snootiness, you know? Informal education is the way to go these days. Everyone is skipping it and touring Europe instead.
“Hi, Dad,” I chirped into the phone.
“You sound happy,” came his surprised voice.
I sat down on the edge of the bed. “Do I?”
“So you’re liking Crystal Brook?”
“No,” I immediately said. “I hate it here.”
He sighed. I waited a long moment for him to say something. When he didn’t, fear crept into my chest, constricting my heart and then my throat.
“It’s over, Grace,” he finally said.
The words tumbled out. “What do you mean?”
“I kept holding onto the hope that there was some way to save the company, but there’s just not.”
I grasped for the words that seemed to evade me. “B-but you said… you said that maybe…”
“I know, but it didn’t work out that way.”
I stared at the wall, watching in amazement as it seemed to simultaneously shrink and grow. Was I about to have a panic attack?
“I’m going to rent an apartment here in New York,” he continued. “And figure out what’s next.”
“The houses,” I feebly said.
“They’re gone. Someone is already interested in the Sierra Mar one. It’s as good as sold.”
A choking sound escaped my throat. Yes, I knew selling the Hollywood Hills house had been the plan, but I’d also known there was a tiny chance it might not happen after all. That chance was what I had written my whole last minute cover story around. The way I’d seen it, I was going to return to L.A. whenever things with Pet Hop got back to normal, and use whatever excuse I needed to about changing my mind about school.
But now there truly was no home to return to.
“What am I going to do?” I whispered, more to the whole world than just my father.
“I talked to your uncle this morning,” he said. “School sounds like a good idea. You should get a job too, though, you know. Your aunt and uncle really want you there, but the right thing to do is contribute to the household.”
Contribute to the household? So now I was a burden — someone who needed to prove their worth?
“My account,” I argued.
“I can’t keep depositing money in it. You know that, Grace. It’s time to stand on your own two feet… this will be good for you.”
I bit my tongue. He’d already said that, and so far he was wrong. I wanted to lash out at him. Cry and shout. Demand to know how he had allowed us to get to such a desolate and shameful place in life. I knew it wouldn’t do any good, though, and I was afraid if I tried to say more than a few words I would end up sobbing and unable to clearly articulate.
“I’ll call you soon,” he said. “It’s going to be all right.”
“Okay,” I said, emotion cracking the word.
The tears hit my cheeks before I even set the phone down. The destitute feeling from the day before was now quadrupled. What I’d tried to convince myself was temporary was anything but.
Stuck. I was stuck in Crystal Brook, North Carolina.
Maybe forever.
*
I slept for hours on top of the laid out clothes. Each time I would start to wake up, the cruel reality of life came rushing back at me, pummeling me in the face, so I forced myself back to sleep.
When someone knocked on my door, I pushed my aching body up. “Yeah?”
“It’s Aunt Ginger,” came her sunny voice. “Just wanted to let you know I’m home.”
I mumbled something even I didn’t understand and stretched my legs out. The one I’d banged up from the bike crash still ached, along with my upper back and neck.
“Would you like to help me with dinner? It could be fun.”
“Okay,” I muttered. “Be out in a minute.”
I checked my phone before I went out. Nothing.
So everyone in L.A. had already forgotten about me. I hadn’t so much as heard a peep from Eli, which was pretty disappointing. I know I’d decided to give him some space, but that space was intended to make him miss me. Wasn’t he at least slightly concerned about how I was doing in New York?
Luke Anderson floated into my thoughts. He was hot, sure, but probably nothing more than another country bumpkin. My chest ached unbearably for the kind of men back in California — guys like Eli, who went exciting places with exciting people every weekend.
Luke’s idea of thrilling probably started and ended with taking a trip down to the local hardware store.
Come to think of it… why did he live in such a large house? Certainly he wasn’t staying
in that place all by himself.
Ugh. He lives with his parents.
That was going to make hooking up much trickier than I had envisioned. It was best to just forget about him anyway. I needed to focus all my energy on finding some way out of Crystal Brook and back into the high ranks of Hollywood Hills royalty.
Aunt Ginger stood in the kitchen adjusting a wide brimmed sun hat. Looped over her arm was a straw basket with scissors in it.
“I thought we were making dinner,” I said, looking from the basket to the stove.
“We are,” she smiled. “Come on. Let’s go out to the garden. We need to get some basil and dill.”
Basil and dill. Cool. I’d heard of that.
I followed her into the living room and through the back door. The day’s shadows were long, slanting halfway across the little backyard. Overgrown bushes trimmed the yard’s perimeter, but in the middle sat an overflowing vegetable garden. Thick, red tomatoes filled one row and bushy herbs another. I took a few steps forward and saw a few small melons, their vines snaking across the dirt.
“Wow, are those watermelons?” I asked.
Aunt Ginger leaned over and started cutting something from a plant. “They are. Do you like them?”
I shrugged. “Yeah. Who doesn’t?”
“So what did you do today?”
“Oh,” I mumbled, lost for words. “I, uh…” Somehow, I didn’t think she’d be too pleased to hear I’d spent the afternoon comatose from depression.
I sucked in a shaky breath and looked down at the grass. “Not much.”
“You don’t sound very happy,” she murmured.
I swallowed hard, doing my best to keep the tears at bay. “I’m not,” I whispered, and suddenly, it was all spilling out. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. I don’t belong here. Nothing makes sense in my life anymore. All my friends are back in L.A. Everything I know is back there!” The volume rose as I went on, and my eyes stung with the tears I refused to let fall.
Wrecked (Crystal Book Billionaires) Page 5