Once Upon a Summer

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Once Upon a Summer Page 2

by Brooke Moss


  “Listen,” I said before Liza could start describing her outfit. “Ditch the pretty rich boy, and meet me for some Thai.”

  “Are you really gonna ask me to give up a date with this guy? I’ve been checking him out at the beach for weeks.”

  “Aren’t there a dozen others just like him?” I locked my car, grimacing. There wasn’t a dozen like Preston. Maybe in attitude, but not in looks. Those brown eyes were something to behold. Shaking my head, I pushed thoughts of him to the back of my mind and stalked toward the stairwell to my apartment. “Girls night is infinitely better than going out with some douche bag.”

  “You don’t even know the guy.” I heard the clinking of her cosmetic containers in the background. “You’re such a ball buster. Please don’t be this way on our date tonight.”

  My steps halted. “Wait. Our date?”

  “Yes!” She squealed. “I asked him to find a friend for you.”

  I closed my eyes. “You didn’t.”

  “I did!” Again, with the squealing. “I said you were totally cute and sassy, and that you worked at a flower shop, and were the creative type, and—”

  I shook my cell phone ferociously. Liza could be so frustratingly clueless. Plus, the ball buster comment stung a little. Sure, I was a little hard on guys. Maybe I made them work a little harder than she did, or whatever. But that was only because I’m smart. And smart girls don’t get hurt. I put the phone back up to my ear. “Did you tell him where I work?”

  “—I said you have dark hair, and… wait, what?” Liza paused to take a breath. “Well, yeah. I guess I said Petal Pushers. Why?”

  Sweat trickled down my neck. Not only was Liza going out with the guy that asked me out two hours ago, but she’d asked if I could tag along? This just got better and better. “No reason. Listen, I think I’m going to pass. I’ve got to work tomorrow, and—”

  “Aubrey, come on.” Liza wasn’t very good at being told no. She never had been. “We never get to hang out because you’re always working. I leave for college in three weeks, and then we won’t see each other until Thanksgiving! Isn’t it against girl code to ditch your bestie right before they move away?”

  I choked back my retort reminding my oldest friend I worked because I had bills to pay, and that I’d forgone college to help my mom get a few years of sobriety under her belt before flew the coop. “I think girl code means not hooking up with guys your friend is into. I really do want to hang out,” I told her tightly. “But I don’t want to be set up.”

  There was a silence. I could practically hear Liza’s internal struggle to find a relevant argument. “I can’t just cancel on him. He brought me flowers.”

  With an eye roll, I started climbing the steps again. Was I the only girl who realized that just because a guy bought you flowers, didn’t mean you actually had to go out with him?

  She didn’t stop there. “Just come. I’ll tell Preston not to find a date for you. You’ll be my plus one.”

  “You’re not supposed to bring a plus one on a date.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” She laughed breezily. “We’re the locals. We can do anything we want.”

  I rubbed my eyes. “It doesn’t work that way. Most summer people think they can do whatever they want.”

  “I doubt Preston is like that. I think you’ll really like him. He’s funny. And sweet.”

  I shuddered at the mention of his name. That guy was so not scoring with my friend tonight. “I… I guess I’ll go. But I’m only going because you always drink too much at parties, and wind up on your face.”

  I had a plethora of memories of holding Liza’s hair back as she barfed on the side of nearly every road in Coeur d’Alene. During our senior year, she’d insisted on attending every party, invited or not, and she’d never been one for turning down a red Solo cup of cheap, warm beer.

  “That’s not true,” she whined. “I can hold my own.”

  “No, you can’t.” I dug in my pocket for my door keys. “But that’s what I’m here for. What time are you picking me up?”

  We’d both graduated with reputations. Liza was infamous for getting really drunk, really fast; and I was infamous for being her personal babysitter. I didn’t want my best friend winding up raped or killed, and if it meant I had to Supernanny her all night, then so be it.

  “Six-thirty. I’m supposed to meet Preston at seven.”

  I held my breath. “Listen, I have to tell you something.”

  “What?” She yelled over the sound of her blow dryer.

  “I actually know your date.”

  The blow dryer turned off. “How do you know Preston Wallingford?”

  “He comes into the flower shop. Like… often.” I groaned. “About six foot, maybe six foot one. Blonde hair styled to messy perfection. Chocolatey eyes. Cocky as all get out.”

  She gasped. “You do know him.”

  “Told you. Listen, he buys flowers. Expensive ones.” When Liza giggled excitedly, I cut her off. “Never for the same girl. I almost stabbed him with a card pick this afternoon.”

  She paused for a beat. “Did you make my bouquet?”

  I sighed. “White roses, montecito, some blue delphinium.”

  “Why did you give me white roses? You know I like red ones better.”

  I rubbed my eyes. “Liza, focus. The guy has bought flowers for every girl in town.”

  And he offered them to me before taking them to you, I thought to myself.

  “He’s probably dated plenty this summer.” Liza’s voice was filled with hope. “You only have to look at him to know why. This just proves he’s romantic. There’s nothing wrong with being a gentleman.”

  “He’s not a gentleman.” Shaking my head, I unlocked my front door. “He’s just looking to hook up.”

  “Don’t put it like that,” She griped. “Besides, there won’t be any hooking up if you’re watching me like a hawk all night.”

  One slide of the hand, one glimpse of him leaning in to whisper sexy offerings into her ear, and I was going to go all “girl power” on his butt. Nothing would please me more than cock-blocking a guy like Preston.

  I sucked in a deep breath then released it slowly. “I’ll be ready by six-thirty. Don’t be late.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Ohmigosh, you look so cute!” Liza sang as I climbed into her car.

  I clicked my seatbelt in place. “Just drive.”

  “Take the compliment, weirdo.” She put her car in gear and we rolled away from my apartment. “I’m so glad you came!”

  “Yeah, yeah.” I waved my hands in front of my face, praying my makeup wouldn’t melt. “Did you tell Preston not to fix me up?”

  She sucked in a sharp breath. “I forgot.”

  “Dammit, Liza.” I reached for the AC dial, and cranked it up. The evening sun poured through the sunroof onto the top of my head, making my skin sting with sweat. As soon as the chilled air poured through the vents, I sat back with a contented sigh. “I don’t want to be that girl.”

  “I’m sorry.” My best friend winced as she watched the road. “Hot out tonight, huh?”

  “Ugh, yes,” I replied, swiping underneath my flat-ironed bangs. “Just don’t say anything to Preston. I… I’ll handle it myself.”

  “Uh oh.” We pulled onto the main drag. Music from the open fronts of the restaurants and bars filled the car as we rolled with traffic. “Promise me you won’t do anything to embarrass me.”

  I slid my sunglasses on to hide my resting bitch face. If I had a nickel for how many times Liza had said that to me over the years, I could buy myself a very expensive Frappuccino. The problem was, I never embarrassed Liza. It was the other way around—lest we not forget the night we went home with her wearing a garbage bag because she’d lost her clothes in the lake.

  “I won’t embarrass you,” I told her with metered patience, adjusting my shirt.

  Liza sped through a yellow light. “Is that new?”

  I tucked a strand of my dark bo
b behind my ear. “I bought it last spring. I just haven’t worn it much.”

  I’d picked a fitted black t-shirt with sheer black lace cap sleeves and paired it with red cutoff jeans. Pretty dressed up for me, but compared to Liza’s short pink sundress, I looked like her personal assistant. How she could manage to look attractive on a night as muggy as this was beyond me.

  “Well, you look hot.” Liza grinned at me. “Just not hotter than me!”

  I forced a smile. I knew my role. I’d held the position of supportive B.F.F. for years. “Where are we going?”

  I was unwilling to reveal Preston had already told me the party plan for the night. I still had no idea who Becker was, and still didn’t care in the slightest. I was secretly hoping Liza was going to take one look at the place, and the people there, and tell me we could go get our Thai food on.

  “I think he said it was a party at a friend’s cabin.”

  “Goodie.” My voice was flat.

  “What was that for?” She clicked her tongue. “Why do you hate Preston so much?”

  I sat back in my seat. “I know his type. And so do you. You deserve better.”

  “How do you know that?” She tossed her beach waves. “What if we fall in love?”

  I adjusted the vent in front of me and soaked in some icy air. “Okay first, we were raised better than that. My own dad was an out-of-towner, remember? And how did that work out for me?”

  Her smile faltered. “Listen, just because he took off, and—”

  “I’m just saying, don’t be naïve,” I explained quickly. The shops and cafes outside my window started to thin out, and I watched as they morphed into houses and trees. “Don’t get smashed. Don’t make me pull some sweaty frat boy off of you, and prevent you from getting knocked up with a me, and ruining your college plans.”

  “I’m not stupid.” She stroked her glossy hair. “Besides, what if Preston sweeps me off my feet?”

  I snorted. “The only place a guy like that is going to try to sweep you is into his bed.”

  “Aubrey!”

  “Please. Where are we meeting this guy, anyway?”

  “You mean where are we going for our date?” She teased, turning on her blinker.

  My jaw clenched. “I’m not on a date. You’re on a date. The only reason I’m here is to keep you from getting boned by Richie Rich.”

  Liza winked at me. “You know you’re desperate to date a hot ed.”

  “HA!” My voice barked louder than the radio. “I’m not desperate. He’s a moron, and I imagine his friends are probably just as bad.”

  She poised a finger in the air. “If he’s pre-med, he’s probably not a moron.”

  I gaped at her. “Is he pre-med?”

  “I dunno.”

  “Have you even had a conversation with him?”

  “Preston only said he goes to Boise State, and his parents have a cabin on Arrow Point. We didn’t talk much more than that. I mean, we talked about my bikini. I wore the white one.” She grinned proudly. “He texted me today and said he had a gift for me. I told him where I lived, and he pulled up like ten minutes later and gave me the flowers. Then Preston asked if I wanted to meet him at the party, and when I said yes, he wrote down the address, and told me I should bring a friend.”

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “That’s it?”

  “That’s it.” We headed up the hill into the woods beyond the edge of town. “Preston is gorgeous. I’m so lucky.”

  “Right.” I looked out the window at the trees rushing past, and cracked my window to catch a whiff of their earthy aroma. “Lucky.”

  My faith in men had swirled down the drain as I’d washed the cigarette smoke from my last debunked date out of my hair a week and a half ago. I’d gone into the warm weather with high hopes of having a summer romance, but it hadn’t panned out so well. I’d been on three dates, two of which ended when my dates got too drunk to drive me home, and I’d needed to be rescued from the last by a fake text from Liza claiming there was an emergency. I was starting to think I was destined to be a spinster, except I hated cats.

  Liza bounced in her seat. “This party is bound to be at a nice place. Cabins there are pretty posh, you know? I hope I’m dressed right.”

  I suppressed an eye roll. Preppy guys and tanned girls walking around looking like Abercrombie & Fitch catalogs. Drinking artisan beer out of red Solo cups to appear casual, while listening to Drake on Spotify to feel cool. A-frame cabins rocking back and forth with the thump of bass, and chicly decorated bedrooms where girls were surrendering their virginities to guys who would roll out of town in a few weeks. Not my style.

  “Why are we driving all the way out there?” I asked as we turned down a one-lane road. “Couldn’t Prince Charming pick you up?”

  Liza chewed on her pinky nail. “I don’t actually know.”

  Could be because he’s a jerk.

  “Maybe he’s having car troubles,” she offered meekly. We rolled along a two-lane road that paralleled the lake. Even though it was seven o’clock at night on a weekday, there were still boats dotting the water, most of which were pulling skiers or kids bouncing on tubes. There was no better feeling than ending the day with a dip in the lake. This far into the season, with temps like we’d been having, the water felt like bathwater. I wished I was jumping off the cliffs at Tubbs Hill, rather than driving along side of the lake wearing an expensive shirt I was afraid to sweat in.

  I rolled my eyes, picturing the posh car Preston drove. It was so shiny and new, it practically still had the price tag on it.

  Liza hummed to herself as she checked the address she’d scrawled on the back of her hand, then turned the car down a driveway with a wrought iron gate boasting metal artwork of two bears engulfed in battle. Suppressing a second eye roll, I observed all of the cars lining the wide drive that crested downward toward the water. Sedans, pickups, SUV’s… all shiny and young enough to be my Honda’s grandchildren.

  “I feel sick.” I mumbled. A couple stopped their make out session on the hood of a car to stare at us while we rolled by. “Thai food would be so much better than this.”

  “Hush.” We rolled to a stop in what appeared to be the last empty spot on the drive. “Be nice. I mean it, Aubrey. I really like this guy.”

  “You don’t even know him.” I took off my seatbelt as soon as she turned off the engine. “And you really like every guy.”

  She handed me the keys. “Still, be nice. You’re driving home, by the way.”

  I slid them into my pocket before opening my door. “Wait, your car is a stick shift—”

  But Liza was already heading toward the manicured lawn, which was littered with young people. Some were laughing, their voices dancing as the setting sunlight reflected like a few million mirrors on the lake—and others were gabbing with friends while holding a plastic cup in one, or both, of their hands. The air was thick with cigarette smoke and sexual tension, as girls in sundresses and short shorts clambered for male attention. I recognized just a couple locals, older kids who’d been seniors when Liza and I were freshmen, but, just as I’d predicted, the bulk of the crowd was made up of out-of-towners.

  “Chill out.” Liza called over her shoulder at me. “Try smiling a little for once.”

  I grinned falsely as the front door to the house opened, and a group of sniggering guys sauntered out. “Let’s get this over with. Maybe if we get home early enough, we can watch a movie. I found my old Twilight DVD yesterday, and—”

  “You’ve sunk to a new low.” She gave me a severe look. “How do my boobs look?”

  “Speaking of new low... they’re fine.”

  Liza shrieked excitedly. “There he is!”

  Preston came into view amongst the drove of bros. (Okay, so I didn’t actually know if they were bros, but they certainly looked the part.) He flashed a twenty-tooth grin at a girl he passed, then winked one of his cinnamon colored eyes at another. I made a gagging noise which was drowned out by the sound of gangsta rap
playing through an open window.

  Liza called his name, waving. Her eagerness made me cringe on her behalf. It didn’t matter how many times I advised her to play it cool, she was like a Chihuahua peeing itself whenever she saw a hot guy. Preston walked toward us with slow, confident strides, then stopped at the edge of the lawn and crossed his arms across his chest before plastering his trademark smirk on his face. It was a smile that tugged just one side of his mouth upward, and lowered his eyebrows enough to look painfully cocky and utterly enticing all at once. I’d seen it in the flower shop at least a dozen times. He’d used it on me, other female customers, and my sixty-three-year-old boss. It was very effective. Irritation and lust boiled in my stomach, a very confusing stew.

  Bad stomach. Don’t react.

  Wrapping my arms around myself, I focused on Liza, who was practically skipping toward him in her strappy sandals. “Hi, Pres!”

  Peeling his antagonizing gaze off of me, he propped his arm around her shoulder and gave her a quick squeeze. I noticed how his upper arms stretched the sleeves of his fitted grey t-shirt, then jerked my eyes back in a forward facing direction.

  “Liza.” That’s all he said. Like some sort of royal acknowledgment, or something. Douche bag.

  I shook my head. This was going to be a long night.

  “Thanks for inviting us.” Liza grinned at me over her shoulder. “Aubrey, don’t be shy. Did you find a date for my friend?”

  “Liza.” My face scalded.

  Preston drug a hand through his sun-streaked hair, standing it on end. Between the sexed up tresses, the khaki shorts slung low on his hips, and his tanned skin, Preston looked as if he’d stepped off a commercial set. It was aggravating. And sexy. But mostly aggravating.

  “Uh, my friend, Jeremy, is going to hang with her.” Preston shifted his gaze to me. “Hey.”

  “Hi.” I swatted at a mosquito. “Listen, I don’t—”

  “Oh, good! He found a friend for you!” Liza batted her eyes at her date. “She’s very excited.”

 

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