The Third Best Thing

by Hughes, Maya

  “Me coming to your rescue isn’t helping. And I won’t always be there to do it. You’ve got to start making better choices for yourself.”

  “You just don’t want to help me anymore.” Her voice was mouse squeak small.

  “I want you to not need help anymore. One day you’re going to get yourself into a situation even I can’t help you out of. Stop trying to force yourself down a bad path.”

  “And what path should I be on?” She folded her arms across her chest, nails out, wouldn’t want to smudge.

  “Any path. Go to school. Get a job. Something.”

  She tilted her head to the side. “Will you help me?”

  “Help you?”

  “We can look up some college programs. Applications should be available for next year right now. We can sit down and hash it all out.”

  “You’re being serious?” If she figured out her life, or at least got off this self-destructive path, it would keep me from worrying so much when I did get drafted. What if I ended up on the other side of the country? Even if I didn’t, I’d be crisscrossing the coasts. If she was serious, I couldn’t let this chance go.

  “Super serious. School could be good for me.” She crossed her heart and held up her hand palm out. “If you help me, I’ll do it.”

  “Okay, but if we do this, you have to follow through.”

  “One hundred percent.” She pulled out my phone and started googling. “My phone’s dead.” She looked at me with sincerity in her eyes. “I can get there with your help, big bro.”

  And she knew once she pulled that card out I’d do anything for her. Getting her set up on a path would take one more worry off my plate. It would keep me from needing to make hours-long trips to random neighborhoods to rescue Alexis.

  And maybe she’d finally be safe and let herself have a future.

  25

  Jules

  “Aww, that apron’s adorable.” Avery pushed a baker’s rack filled with ten trays of donuts to proof toward the oven.

  The apron was made from a vintage fabric with a cherry pattern on it and had a red frill around the edges. “I bought it at a farmers market over the summer.”

  “It’s perfect. What are you making today?”

  “Black Forest cupcakes. After we film today, I wanted to give that a shot before I head out.”

  Max strolled in. “These videos are freaking gold.”

  “Don’t you have clients or something? You’re always here.” Avery latched the oven door.

  Max leaned back against the counter and picked up one of the molded chocolate pumpkins from a baking tray. “‘Appointment only’ means I set my own schedule and only have to deal with people when it’s absolutely necessary.” Her bright blue tank showed off her full sleeve of tattoos on one arm, the colors of the ink matching her hair.

  “Aren’t you freezing?” The short sleeves we wore at B&B were bad enough. I’d die showing that much skin.

  “The ovens in my cramped back-of-house are like a furnace. Plus, all my crazy creations burn a lot of brain power.” She tapped the side of her head.

  “Your poor clients.” Avery blew her hair out of her face, fixing her ponytail.

  “Rich people love eccentricity. It’s my number-one selling point. They feel like a rebel when they walk into my shop. They get a cake with a look and taste like no one else has ever gotten before. Plus, I serve shots at my tastings.” She winked, pulled a flask out of her boot, and took a swig.

  “You provide the full-service experience.” I dipped a spoon into my batter and tasted it. Salmonella eat your heart out!

  “Hell yeah, I do. And if after a few shots they decide to throw an extra tier onto the cake, we’ll that’s better for everyone, don’t you think?” Her grin was contagious. She was nothing but trouble, in the very best of ways.

  “We’re going to film two today and be sneaky. We’ll pretend the one for later is live, since the weather is supposed to be terrible next week. Then you can work on your recipe.” Avery slid some baking trays onto the counter as I measured out the ingredients we’d need for today.

  “And trying out a few things off-screen means we won’t have to go through the soufflé debacle again.”

  Our attempt at a chocolate soufflé had made some pretty delicious chocolate syrup.

  “The viewers were entertained.”

  “They were? At us failing?”

  Max hopped up on the counter, kicking her feet. Her hair was rainbow-colored now and matched the piercing just below her nostrils. “Loved every second of it and want you guys to try it again. You haven’t been checking out the social media profiles?”

  I shook my head so fast my neck hurt. “All you said I needed to do was show up in the videos. Nothing about checking on the profiles after the content was uploaded.” That was the only way I could keep myself from spiraling into a panic attack at the thought of hundreds of people watching me, even though I’m sure most of them were watching Avery.

  “Everyone’s super supportive and blown away by you two.”

  “It’s totally cheating calling you a home cook, but what’s a little deception between friends.” Max snapped her gum and winked at me.

  “Can you get off my counters please? Who knows where your ass has been.”

  “I can tell you exactly where it’s been, Mrs. Cunning.” Max hopped down and grabbed a donut covered in chocolate and rainbow sprinkles off the rack of newly frosted ones. I was sensing a theme.

  “No man candy to watch you today?”

  “No, but I did boot him out of bed early this morning.” I kept my head down, mixing the batter we were prepping for the after shots later.

  Max dropped her donut on the counter and nearly knocked me off my feet with her shove to my shoulder. “Shut the front door! I was ready to take bets you were going to fight that until the day you died. Hell, yes, I knew you had it in you!” She grabbed her donut and smiled at me.

  “Is that why you’re walking funny?” Avery laughed and bumped me with her hip.

  “You two are the worst.”

  “Tell us all about that tasty dick you got.” Max hopped back up on the counter.

  My jaw cracked through the floor and was headed straight for the basement.

  “Not in front of the baby, Max,” Avery laugh-hissed and shoved her off the counter.

  The camera crew interrupted their quest for more details—not that Max would’ve been deterred, but Avery sent her back to her own shop to meet clients she had coming.

  “She’s a handful.”

  “Whoever snags her heart is going to have their work cut out for them.”

  “More like their balls cut off for them.” Avery exhaled sharply and shook her head. “Maybe one day she’ll let it happen.”

  The lights flicked on like a solar flare burning our retinas, and we were off.

  * * *

  I wasn’t going to check the time again. Looking at the clock on my phone didn’t somehow magically make it speed up. Berk had said he’d be a little late. I crossed my arms over my chest and rocked back and forth from my heels to my toes, craning my neck to look past the people walking up to T-Sweets. Was I supposed to meet him somewhere else? Inside? We hadn’t finalized the location, so I thought this was where I should be. Maybe I’d gotten my wires crossed.

  My half-smiles with people I made eye contact with made me more self-conscious with each passing minute. Had I gotten the time wrong? I checked my messages. Still nothing. But I couldn’t help but catch the time at the top of the screen.

  Twenty-eight minutes. It was twenty-eight minutes after we were supposed to meet. I could call Elle and ask her to have Nix find out from one of the guys if something had happened to Berk, but that ventured into overly-attached girlfriend territory—not that I was his girlfriend. Besides, it was only twenty-eight minutes.

  The tiny pinpricks of insecurity clawed at the door in my mind labeled Insecure as Fuck. We’d slept together last night. I’d danced for him and we’d b
anged so hard the walk over to B&B and T-Sweets had been with ginger, gentle steps. And now he hadn’t responded to my calls and texts.

  Were they all over at the Brothel, waiting to laugh at me when I finally got home? Were they taking bets as to what time I’d show up, how long I’d wait before realizing it was all a joke?

  I squeezed my eyes shut and held my fist up to my forehead. Don’t do it, Jules. Don’t go there. He’s not blowing you off. He didn’t sleep with you only to walk away laughing this morning. That’s not what’s happening. Just stop.

  Taking a deep breath, I opened my eyes and looked around at everyone getting in the very last scoops of ice cream before T-Sweets shut down for the winter. They were laughing and smiling, eating delicious ice cream. A few people were making out. I’d wanted that to be me. Maybe not the making out part—I didn’t need to be around ice cream with Berk, making out and having everyone staring at us and wondering what the hell he was doing there with me. Six-pack abs meets Pillsbury dough girl.

  This isn’t helping, Jules.

  I sent him another message.

  ME: Hey, I’m here at T-Sweets. But it’s a while after we were supposed to meet. I’m heading home. I hope you’re okay.

  After ten minutes of no response, I left and went home, kicking rocks like Charlie Brown the whole way. What did I do when there were too many feelings? I pulled out my trusty recipe cards and got to work. Maybe he’d been mangled in a car wreck. Maybe he was knee deep in co-eds. Maybe he’d been abducted by aliens. Maybe I was a freaking idiot.

  At nearly one am my phone vibrated on the counter. My head snapped up from the kitchen table and I peeled a cupcake wrapper off the side of my face. Taking a deep breath, I got up and checked the message.

  BERK: I’m so fucking sorry. I had to do a thing and it went way later than I expected and I didn’t have a charger. I’ll make it up to you for sure.

  BERK: Some next-level making it up to you.

  BERK: Shit, you’re probably asleep. Sorry if I woke you.

  BERK: Talk tomorrow.

  BERK: I miss you.

  I smiled at the small glowing screen and climbed back into bed with my phone tucked under my pillow. Good thing I hadn’t let my imagination run wild. I hadn’t gone into a panic spiral. Well, staring at my bedroom ceiling at one am wasn’t exactly cool as a cucumber. But I drifted off to sleep, cuddled up against my pillow that still smelled like him.

  * * *

  I smoothed out my skirt as the fall air nipped at my uncovered legs. The cinnamon sugar smell wafted up from my arms. I balanced the plastic container with the lid securely snapped on in my hands as I climbed the steps to The Brothel.

  Freshly baked muffins for breakfast, that was totally normal. It wasn’t a desperate attempt to make sure he was okay. Besides, I wanted to see him, and I wasn’t going to wait around for him to show up. I needed to take charge, right? Be proactive. Stop letting life happen to me.

  Be confident for a change.

  I knocked, but it was so freaking early, I didn’t want to wake everyone else. Slipping the key out of the spot behind the porch light, I checked over my shoulder making sure their new hiding spot wouldn’t be discovered. Who was I kidding? The only person out this early on campus was the mail man. Opening the door, I said ‘hello’.

  I walked into his place like he always walked into mine. Climbing the stairs, I tugged at the hem of my skirt. An honest-to-god skirt. While it was only walking across the street, it was the first time I’d worn a skirt with my legs out, other than the engagement party, since I was probably ten years old. I wanted him to see me in it, and if he was promising next-level making it up to me, why not make it easier on both of us?

  They weren’t salted caramel cookies, but I knew he’d like these. I couldn’t wait to see his face when he took a bite. I loved the sounds he made when he ate whatever I made. Who didn’t love some freshly baked coffee cake muffins first thing in the morning? And if I was lucky, maybe we’d get in some early morning cuddles. He’d pull me into his bed and we could doze and play all morning until he had to leave for the team bus for his game. With a quick knock, I opened the door, smiling wide.

  “Morning, sunshine, I thought I’d—”

  Only it wasn’t Berk in his bed. It was a girl. A petite redhead with freckles, a serious case of bedhead, and no pants on. And she was wearing Berk’s t-shirt. The faded FU one that was fraying around the bottom of the sleeve.

  “Who are you?” I asked even though I didn’t want to know the answer. I didn’t want to know the name of the girl who’d just punched a hole right through the little fantasy I’d been dreaming up in my head.

  “I’m Alexis. Are you lost?”

  The tunnel vision started, like I’d been punted down the deepest well on campus. ‘Alexis’ came out slowed down, like someone was playing the entire world at half speed. This was Alexis. This was the girl I’d baked a cake for. The girl all the guys said was bad news, but Berk kept talking to. All through our letters, after the engagement party and after two nights ago he was still not only talking to Alexis—but apparently banging her too.

  He’d stood me up last night to bang his ex—or current—girlfriend.

  I couldn’t breathe. Air stalled in my lungs like my head was being held underwater and I was clawing for the surface. The burn was sharp and slamming at my ribs. A small wheeze made it past my lips.

  She slipped out of bed with her arms crossed over her chest. She was small. Skinny with long legs that made her appear statuesque even at her height. And she looked totally pissed off that I was there. “Who are you?”

  My chest was so tight every attempt to breathe created a new crack. If I moved too quickly I was going to shatter.

  I needed to get out of there before my humiliation was complete.

  “I’m no one.” I spun around and rushed back down the hallway. The bathroom door opened as my foot hit the top step. I wouldn’t break down. Not here. I’d save that for once I was on the other side of the front door. A complete collapse of the brave Jules I’d tried to be. She was gone.

  “Jules?”

  My fingers wrapped around the banister and I was frozen like someone had laid down an entire tube of Crazy Glue.

  It was Berk’s voice. And everything froze.

  26

  Jules

  “Jules, what are you doing here so early?” He didn’t sound angry or defensive. More like pleasantly surprised. His arms wrapped around me and he kissed the back of my neck. This didn’t make any sense. Shouldn’t he be trying to rush me away, or coming up with excuses?

  “I baked you some coffee cake muffins.” I lifted the container, still not turning around.

  “You’re the best, you know that?” He reached over my shoulder and took the container from my hand and laced his fingers through mine. “Since you’re here, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

  He tugged on my hand, freeing me from my self-imposed staircase prison.

  On numb legs, I let him lead me back toward his room.

  He pushed on his bedroom door and I half expected what I’d seen inside to be a figment of my imagination. Maybe I’d made it all up because I was incapable of letting myself be happy. Maybe there wasn’t a half-naked girl in his bed. The door opened fully and there she was looking pissed with her phone in her hand.

  Berk grinned. “Alexis, this is Jules.”

  Her gaze flicked to us standing in the doorway like we were an inconvenience to her already shitty morning.

  “Jules, this is Alexis.” He held out his hand, pointing at the girl on her phone. “My sister.”

  The words went into my head, but somehow they got scrambled and didn’t make a bit of sense.

  “Your sister?”

  He nodded and flashed a sleepy smile, rubbing his eye.

  “Alexis is your sister?” I pointed at her.

  The depth of her frown increased and she glared at me.

  “Yeah, she got stranded last night and I had to
go pick her up.”

  “Alexis is your sister.”

  He turned and looked at me with his eyebrows scrunched together.

  “I know we don’t look alike.” His sigh was a long-suffering one, like he’d had to have this same conversation more than once, the same as me with Laura. “But she’s my sister.”

  “On a good day,” Alexis grumbled from the bed.

  “That’s not something you need to throw in every time I say it, Alexis.” He said her name pointedly, like he’d had to tell her a million times to stop touching his stuff or stay on her side of the car. “And will you put some pants on? What if the guys wake up and see you?” Berk rummaged through his drawers.

  “I don’t know, a couple of them are pretty hot. Especially the new one. What’s his name again?”

  “You’re not dating any of my roommates.” He flung a pair of sweatpants at her, hitting her in the face.

  “Who said anything about dating?” She grinned.

  “Not cool. Don’t even go there. Pants.”

  “Not like I’d do anything with any of your goody-two-shoes friends, Berkley.” She rolled her eyes and shoved her legs into the sweatpants.

  “At least none of my friends would strand me a hundred miles from anywhere.”

  “But that’s what keeps life exciting. Plus, I have you to bail me out.” She threw on a devil-may-care smile. “That’s what big brothers are for, right?” She stressed the word brother like it was a concession she was giving, calling him that.

  “What about next year? What about if I get traded to Seattle or LA or I’m at an away game and I’m hundreds or thousands of miles away? Then what?”

  She shrugged.

  They fought just like I’d imagined a normal brother and sister would, like in TV shows. God knows I wasn’t a good person to evaluate normal sibling relationships. But… he hadn’t stood me up to bang someone else.