by Amy Sparling
“It’s not about boys,” she says. She chews on her thumb nail and then it hits me. Mom’s not talking slowly because I’m in trouble. She has something she wants to tell me.
Instantly, I panic over the idea that Mom found out I’ve been talking to my dad’s new wife at school. But it’s not my fault. She made me talk to her. She’s the AP after all. I’m thinking up all these excuses to tell her when she says, “I’ve been given an offer to sell The Magpie.”
I stop just short of sitting on the stool. “Well, who cares about that?” I say. “We’re not selling.”
Mom’s expression isn’t exactly comforting. She glances at the counter, probably to avoid looking at me. “It was for fourteen thousand dollars, Natalie. We could survive a few months on that kind of money and I could look for another job. One with benefits and a good salary.”
I stand straighter. “Who gave you this offer? And when did it happen?” I’ve done such a great job of blocking Jack’s offers so far.
“A man named Jack Brown,” Mom says, and the name makes me flinch even though I’d pretty much expected it. No one else has ever come around here asking to buy us out. She picks up a stack of business cards and straightens them on the counter. “He came by today while you were at school and discussed it with me.”
Of course he did. The asshole waited until I was out of the picture and he pounced. If I hadn’t been so freaking diligent at going to school lately, maybe I could have been here. I could have stopped it.
“So what?” I say, folding my arms over my chest. “We’re not selling. This store is your dream.”
“It was my dream with your father,” she says, looking down at her hands. “Now that he’s gone, I can’t exactly use his money to keep us afloat like I used to.”
Mom never talks about Dad. Like, never. I close my eyes and exhale. “Tell me you didn’t accept his offer.”
“Not yet.” She grabs my hand and squeezes it. “I said I’d think about it.”
“Well call him and say no.” I reach for the phone. “I’ll do it.”
“Natalie.” Her voice is stern and I move my hand away from the phone. “We need to think this over.”
“I have thought it over,” I say.
Mom rolls her eyes. “It’s only been a few seconds.”
Little does she know, I’ve actually had weeks to think it over from all the times I’ve intercepted Jack’s attempts to talk to my mom. And maybe yesterday I would have considered selling if it made Mom happy, but after the conversation I heard just now in the game store, I refuse to let that asshole win.
“Jack Brown can’t buy our store,” I say through clenched teeth. “Sell it to someone else if you want, but not him.”
“Honey, no one else wants it,” she says with a sigh. “I’m not saying I’m happy about the idea of selling, but maybe this is what we need. Money has been tight for so long now and I just want to breathe again.”
“But this is your dream.” I point to the other side of the store. “And that’s going to be my coffee shop one day. I’ll go to college soon and I’ll get my degree and open the store.”
“College is four years away,” she says.
“So what? I’ll get a two year associates degree in business at the community college. I’ll be close enough to keep working here and then I’ll open my coffee shop and finish out two more years of college.”
“Honey…” I know what she’s thinking, that opening a business and going to school is pretty much impossible. But I don’t care right now.
“We can’t sell to that asshole.”
“Honey,” she says again, this time with a warning in her voice.
I grab my backpack from under the counter, knowing I need to get the hell out of here before I lose my mind. “I refuse to let you sell the store,” I tell her as I sling it on my back. “You of all people know how important small businesses are. If you let the Jack Browns of the world buy up everything, then that’ll all be gone. He’ll be more of a rich asshole and the little guys will lose.”
This hits home, I know it. Her eyes widen in recognition and I know I’ve struck a nerve with her and her love of small businesses.
“I’m going home to work on homework,” I tell her. “And you can stay here and think about what a terrible idea it would be to sell this place.”
Mom and I both know the best thing for me to do is to hang out at the store for another hour until it closes and she can take me home in her car. But the fact that I walk right out, ready to trudge home in the summer heat with my heavy backpack instead of being with her one more minute should hopefully prove my point. My mom needs the time alone. She needs to remember what this store means to her. And I need some time to come up with a better plan than simply begging Mom to turn away Jack’s offer.
If I wasn’t stuck going to school every day then I’d have more time to spend trying to drum up business. I haven’t even updated the store’s Facebook page in a week because I’ve been too busy trying to pass my classes. Well, that’s not good enough. I need to work harder. I need to save this freaking store.
When I get home, it’s almost six o’clock and I’m drenched in sweat. I take a quick shower and then plop on my bed, too exhausted and pissed off to do any of my extra credit worksheets.
My heart aches for Jonah, for his warmth and his smile and a hug. He would make me feel better if he were here right now, but since Mom will be home soon and the tension between us is so high, I can’t invite him over. Instead, I’ll have to settle for the next best thing.
Me: Can I call you?
The phone rings a few seconds after I send the text. “If you want to call me, just call me,” Jonah says. “You don’t have to text me first.”
“I didn’t know if you were busy,” I say as I sit on my bed and stare out the window.
“I’m never too busy to talk to you. What’s up?”
I sigh. “How much time do you have?”
“As much time as you need,” he says with a smile in his voice.
I tell him about the store, and how we’ve been suffering with money lately, which he already knows. Then I tell him about stupid Jack Brown and all his previous inquiries about buying The Magpie and how I blocked them. Jonah balks when I tell him Jack’s offer price.
“Surely the store is worth more than that,” he says. “Typically businesses sell for twice the yearly profit. His offer is an insult.”
“He’s offering low because he doesn’t want the business. He just wants to strip the space clean and make it another one of his office buildings. Jack Brown doesn’t care about anything but himself.”
“So what does your mom say?” he asks.
“That’s the worst part, Jonah. I think she’s actually considering it.”
“Don’t stress, chica. It’ll be okay.”
“It won’t be okay,” I say. I bite my lip but I know he needs to know the real truth. “We can’t sell the store to Jack Brown. Then he would have won.”
“Won what?” Jonah asks.
As much as I hate this, I want Jonah to know the truth so that there are no secrets between us. I feel like a total idiot, but I go ahead and tell him about Caleb, and how his dad made him talk to me in an effort to get our store. Jonah listens, and I can practically hear the gears in his brain turning as he takes in all of this new information.
“So what’s why we can’t sell to him,” I say, my heart heavy with regret and anger. “If Mom wants to sell to someone else, I could probably be okay with it, but we can’t sell to Jack. He can’t win.”
“No, he can’t,” Jonah says. “That’s why we’re going to save your store. We’re going to make The Magpie so freaking profitable that your mom will never sell it to anyone.”
“How are we going to do that?” I say.
Jonah takes a breath. The phone shuffles, and I hear a page flip over in his notebook. “We’re going to come up with a plan.”
Chapter 25
Jonah and I spent the rest of t
he night talking on the phone and coming up with ideas to save the store. There’s no magic trick to success ere. Basically, we need to do exactly what I’ve been trying to do all year—earn more money. Get more sales. Find more customers. Spread the word.
I told Jonah there’s just no other option because I’ve tried them all, but he refused to believe that. He’s taken some free business classes at the local community college just for fun over his summer breaks, and he thinks that’ll help him find ways to generate more income. He swears he has new ideas for us to try, but we’ll need a few days for him to figure them out and make an official plan. That’s the difference with Jonah and me. I just go for it, trying out ideas randomly. He makes a plan. He’s probably typing up a spreadsheet before school starts.
When I meet with April the next morning for our walk to school, I don’t even know how to start telling her all the stuff she missed. The talk with Caleb, his obsessive texts, and the explosion with his dad. The offer to buy our business and most of all – the kiss. The glorious kiss I shared with Jonah.
As soon as I see her I smile and want to dive into telling her everything, but then my tongue gets stuck in my mouth. It’s just too much information to process right now.
“How’s your head?” I ask her.
“Finally better.” She makes this exhausted face and presses her palm to her forehead. “The migraines are the worst pain ever, and the drugs they give me for them aren’t much better. It takes away some of the pain, but it makes my body all warm and tingly. Feels like I’m sunburned all over.”
“Well, I’m glad to have you back,” I say as we walk.
“Did you actually go to school yesterday without me or did you ditch?” She eyes me suspiciously, probably trying to figure out if I’m lying or not.
Before I got busted by the AP, anytime April was sick or had a migraine, I didn’t bother going to school either. My reasoning was that it’s boring to walk alone and it’s also horrible to eat lunch in the cafeteria alone. Sure, I have some old friends from my junior year that I could probably sit with, but they’ve all pretty much ditched me since last summer when I dedicated all my time to the store. Plus, skipping school has always meant more time at the store.
I put my hands on my hips. “I’ll have you know, I went to school. And I went to every single class, and I actually did all my work, too.”
“Wow,” she says, her eyes going wide. “I can’t believe you’re taking this all so seriously. I mean, I’m glad you are, but when they set you up with that detention plan I just knew you’d blow it off.”
I shrug. “I really want to graduate. Plus, now I want Jonah’s tutoring to be appreciated.” I toss my hands in the air. “So what can I do? I have to go.”
“You and Jonah,” she says wistfully. “When are you going to finally admit to liking him?”
“Well…” I bite my lip and look over at her. We stop at an intersection. April puts a hand on her hip. “Well what? Don’t tell me you’re still in denial here.”
“I’m about as far from denial as you can get,” I tell her, unable to hide my grin.
“What does that mean?”
“It means we kissed.”
“You WHAT?” April grabs both of my arms and jumps up and down, oblivious to the traffic around us, mostly students who go to our school and can totally see us standing here looking like idiots.
“I need details!” she shrieks in a rare show of crazy emotion.
I start laughing and then I’m bouncing on my toes too. “I kissed him!”
“You kissed him!”
“Also, I told Caleb’s dad to fuck off.”
April stops bouncing. “What the hell happened when I was gone yesterday?”
I hold onto my backpack straps and take a deep breath. The school is just up ahead and we always stop talking about personal things by the time we cross this road so that no one overhears us. “It’s a long story. A crazy long story that might involve losing The Magpie.”
April’s eyebrows pull together. “You’re kidding.”
I shake my head. “I wish. I’ll have to tell you during lunch, okay?”
“No way. No freaking way.” April grabs my elbow and tugs me toward the right, turning onto Main Street. “We’re getting coffee,” she says as she picks up speed.
“But…first period?” I say, but I walk alongside her. “The bell rings in ten minutes.”
“It can wait.”
If she wants to ditch class for some Starbucks down the road, I’m perfectly okay with that. I’ve been a model student for the last month. I can screw up one class period.
The moment we place our coffee orders, Jonah texts me.
Jonah: I have some preliminary plans for The Magpie. Want me to give them to you now so you can look over before we talk at lunch?
Me: I’m not at school…I’m at Starbucks.
Me: Please don’t be mad!
Jonah: Why’d you skip?
Me: I told April a very brief description of what happened while she was sick and she’s dying for details.
Jonah: Cool. Can I come?
I tilt my phone to April and let her read his text. “Absolutely,” she says, taking my phone from my hand and texting that word back to him. “I want to hear all about the hanky panky you two have been up to while I was gone.”
We sit at a table in the corner that has a view of the window facing the school, just in case any teachers or principals decide to come in here looking for students who are skipping. Jonah shows up a few minutes later, his hair a little messy from the wind.
“Hey,” he says, sliding into the chair next to me. He gives me a quick kiss on the cheek and I blush from head to toe.
April grins. “Spill your guts, kids. I need details!”
After Jonah assures me he doesn’t mind missing first period, we all make a promise to talk just for this hour and then get back to school for second period. Missing one measly math class shouldn’t have Mrs. Reese freaking out or anything. I’ll say I was sick and needed to come into school late, or blame it on cramps.
I start with the beginning, and tell April everything that happened yesterday. I kind of skim over the romantic parts of the day with Jonah because I don’t want to give away all of our special moments to other people. Jonah helps me tell the story in places, and when we’re done, April is just as pissed off as I am about Jack Brown’s offer to buy the store and the sleazy way he tried to get his son to win me over.
“So although I fear this is hopeless and totally won’t work,” I say, eyeing Jonah who gives me a reassuring smile, “Jonah thinks we can come up with a plan to save the store.”
“Damn right we can.” He places his notebook on the table. To my surprise, he hasn’t concocted a spreadsheet on the computer or anything, he’s just written a ton of stuff in his super small but very neat handwriting.
“We’re going to do a community outreach,” Jonah says. “Most of the store’s business is from tourists and beach goers, but how many citizens of Sterling bother to go shopping on the boardwalk on a daily basis? Not many.” He taps the paper. “We’re going to bring the whole town to you. The Magpie will become a place to stop for all of your gift giving, book buying, trinket desiring needs. We’ll have a book club, and student discounts, and social media campaigns. It’s going to be great.”
I study over his ideas, many of which I’ve never thought of myself. They’re also really good. April throws in some ideas as well, and Jonah adds them to the list.
When we’re all coffeed up and walking back to school, I get a text.
Mom: Sorry babe. I’ve decided to sell the store.
“No!” My hands tremble and tears flood my eyes.
“What is it?” Jonah says, his hand on my back. “Who texted?”
“My mother,” I say as a tear falls down my cheek. Just minutes ago, I’d been so happy and hopeful for the store. Now that dream is crushed. “She wants to sell.” I show them the text and April and Jonah are stunned into
silence, which only makes me cry harder.
Then Jonah takes the phone from me and presses the call button over my mom’s name. “Talk to her,” he says, pushing the phone back to me. “Tell her to give it three more months. Promise her the store will earn at least a thousand extra dollars a month and if it does, she’ll reconsider.”
I nod quickly, trying to remember everything he just said, even though I’m pretty sure it’s hopeless. We’ve lost and Jack Brown has won. Mom answers the phone after several rings, probably because she wasn’t sure if she wanted to answer knowing I’d probably be mad.
“You can’t sell the store,” I say.
“Natalie—” Mom begins. “We’ve been over this.”
“Yes, but I’ve got a proposition for you. Tell Jack you need three months to decide.”
“Nat—”
“Tell him. He’ll wait. He has no other choice. And in these next three months, I’ll have the store earning a thousand dollars more per month. No—fifteen hundred,” I say. Jonah’s eyes widen, but he nods.
“Please, Mom.” I grip the phone to my ear as a tear rolls down my cheek. “Please believe in me. If it doesn’t work out in three months, you can sell the store with my blessing.”
“Fine,” Mom says after a long moment of silence. “You have a deal.”
Chapter 26
A nervous energy flows through my veins on Saturday morning. It’s as if my body knows something bad is about to happen, but it won’t tell me what. I get up and get dressed way earlier than usual because Jonah is going to meet me at The Magpie an hour before we open so we can start on our plan to earn more money. Fifteen hundred dollars spread out over a month is only fifty dollars a day that we need to earn above what we normally earn. It sounds simple, maybe even easy, but I know how many days I’ve spent at The Magpie when not a single customer has even walked through our door. Fifty dollars is a lot.
I brush my teeth, still unable to shake that feeling of dread. When I get to the kitchen, the smell of coffee isn’t filling the room like usual. Mom sits at the table, reading news on her tablet.