“Lexy—she’s deaf.” Axel offers a lopsided smile that quickly glides off hisface.
I suck in a breath and cover my mouth in horror. I’m a horrible person by design, of course—but I would never do something like this, and then it hits me. Dear God, I’ve doneit.
“That’s right!” Stumpy howls from across the street. “You’re a terrible human being! A witch! A holyterror!”
“Oh, shut up, you!” I bark before looking back at the mustache lady and mouthingI’m sorrywhile making the sign of the cross—the only sign language I’m even vaguely familiarwith.
It takes six seconds for me to scuff my little pugs back to my walkway and trot up the porch. In a moment, Axel is beside me, his fingers on mine as I reach for thedoor.
I suck in a sharp breath. “Oh my God, you will lose your hand and that plaything you beat with it if you don’t take a full step away from my body thisinstant.”
Ax hops back as if escaping a fire, and I hop into the house with the exact same sentiment. I bolt the door shut, leaning against it while my chest heaves uncontrollably, but it has nothing to do with that unfortunate run-in with the poor deaf mustache lady, or Stumpy, whom I might inevitably kill in the night. Instead, it has everything to do with the fact I can’t control my breathing, my hormones, or my nonexistent heart whenever that rat is within throat punching range of mybeing.
I can’t stand that he still has the power to evict this reaction from me. And even more than that, I can’t stand myself for havingit.
I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, my seaweed mask melting from my face, my hair spraying out of the rollers, my eyes bloodshot with rage. Yes, it’s safe to say life has spiraled wildly out of control. There’s only one way out of this mess. Tomorrow night at Low and Levi’s engagement party, I will grind my heel into this budding friendship that’s taken my life down like a wildfire. But not before I grind my heel into Axel Collins’ heart one last time for having the audacity to show up at my front door, nearly killing my dog—calling meLexyno less. Yes, I may be having a run of bad luck, but sooner than later I’ll get back into the driver’s seat of my life and run over that witch, karma,myself.
It’s the least I can do with that darn RangeRover.
* * *
HallowedGrounds is brimming with people this Saturday afternoon. The heavenly scent of percolating java has my lips begging to turn upward, but I deny them the effort. It’s not that I’m an unhappy person—I’m more of a practical person who happens to be acutely aware of the fact happiness is just an illusion prepackaged by modern media to make you believe you’re missing out on something big. The only thing you’re missing out on is what’s in front of you. Once people stop chasing some imaginary carrot and realize they have everything they need to survive, they can finally get on with it and stop harassing others to fill some imaginary void. That’s precisely why I don’t need a man in my life. Axel was my first and final foray into what Hallmark has boxed and prepackaged as theLword, and I’m thrilled to report that failed experiment has solidified the fact I can be more than content without a plus one. As much as I don’t need Axel in my life, I do miss his sister, Emilia. She was as close to having a true friend in my life as I’ve ever had. That is, up until I met Low. On occasion, I had even let myself believe that Emilia would have made the best sister-in-law. God, I missher.
Hallowed Grounds smells like java heaven, and I scan the place for signs of Serena and Sunday. Serena sent a group text and asked me to meet the two of them here for a quick cup of joe. Of course, I would never say no to that request. Serena and Sunday are two people I would gladly rearrange my schedule for. Although seeing that I’m jobless, soon-to-be homeless, and without a single yoga mat to occupy, Serena and Sunday are the only show intown.
I order a cup of coffee, black, no frap, no frills, just as the two of them walk in like a ball of sunshine, laughing and strapping me with arms as we exchange a quick embrace. The girls pick up their drinks and follow me to the back where we take a seat among the throngs glued to their laptops. Hallowed Grounds is one of Hollow Brook’s premiere coffeehouses. It holds a soft spot in the hearts of most people who live here because all of the local universities happened to have one planted oncampus.
“What’s up?” I ask, landing Poppy on her very own seat. Poppy is the moniker I gifted my Louis Vuitton Neverfull after I purchased it. The name comes from its bright red lining I selected. I’ve worked hard for everything I have and I aptly take care of and personify all my prized possessions, such as Frank, my Range Rover, who kindly transported me to this sunny little meet and greet this morning. Who I’m only slightly ticked off at for eviscerating my bank account. It’s not his fault I upgraded to the butter leather alpaca-colored seats and twinsunroofs.
They whisper amongst themselves before breaking out into cheery cackles. Sunday is blonder than her brothers, Rush or Nolan, and gorgeous as any supermodel. Serena is my doppelganger with the same crimson hair and deep green eyes. She’s a knock-out, which is why I’m beyond relieved that she’s currently enrolled in her first year at Barnes University, an all-girls’ school right here in Hollow Brook just down the road from the far more hormonally infused Whitney Briggs where poor Sunday has opted to spend the next four years of her life fighting the frat boys off with a stick. Which reminds me, I need to arm her with a can of Mace and a set of nunchakus,too.
“I got a job at the Black Bear!” Serena bounces in her seat withenthusiasm.
“What?” I squawk so loud half the establishment turns my way. “You’re kidding, right?” I clutch at my chest with relief before she lets me off the hook. There’s no way in H-E-double hockey sticks my baby sis would ever entertain getting a paycheck from that romp and stomp university bar. The Black Bear Saloon is nothing but a notorious hookup spot that acts as a sex ring for the surrounding universities. It’s clear Serena is just trying to soften the blow for something far less offensive in her life that she’s afraid to unload on me. It’s a game we’ve played since our mother ran off to the other side of the country to shack up with some loser ex she claimed still held her black frozen heart. I took on the mama bear role in Serena’s life ever since, and, if you ask me, we’re both better for it. My mother,Wendy,always said she would take off for Neverland one day, and sure enough, she made good on that morbid promise. She lacked the maternal instinct from the get-go.
“I’m not kidding.” She smacks Sunday on the arm for laughing as if this were the funniest thing in the world. “The gig at the bookstore didn’t work out.” She shoots Sunday another side-glance, and she quickly clams up as if the two of them were hiding far more than some summer job gone awry. “In fact”—Serena bites down hard on her lower lip, a maneuver she’s invoked a thousand times while holding back either laughter or tears, and right now I’m hoping for the latter—“the university didn’t quite work out like Iplanned.”
“What?” My voice cuts through the air like a machete, and the two of themstraighten.
“Kidding!” Serene throws her arms up and breaks out into a wailinglaugh.
“Oh, thank God.” My phone buzzes, and it’s a text fromLow.
See you in two hours and don’t be late! I’ve got news that will knock your designer socksoff!
I glare at the screen as if it were Low herself. I’d like to knock her socks off. And I will tonight when I bring this ridiculous friendship to a grindinghalt.
Sunday proceeds to tell the two of us all about her adventures at Whitney Briggs, and I can’t help but note the sullen, I’m missing out look on my sister’sface.
“My new roommate, Trixie, is certifiable in a good way.” Sunday salutes me with her drink as if subtly commenting on my own mental health. I’ve been known to have the reputation of an ice queen, but at the end of the day the ice queen is who I chose to be in order to survive the arctic waters my mother tossed me in all those years ago upon her departure. “She’s a total blast because she’s basically fearless. Her brother, Knox, and Rush are best friends, too, so that’s kind ofcool.”
Serena scoffs at the thought. “I’d poke my eyes out with a fork if Marlin were running around on campus.” She plucks her straw from her drink and proceeds to mimic the action. “Especially if he were befriending my roommate’s cutebrother.”
“He is cute.” Sunday butts her shoulder to Serena’s, and they share another earth-shatteringlaugh.
“So what’s the big news?” I lean back, studying my sister with renewed interest. “Surely you didn’t haul yourselves out here to tell me about your nonexistent position at the Black Bear?” The two of them exchange a nervous glance. I don’t know what’s going on, but I don’t like it. “Come on, spill. Nothing can be as bad as working at the Black Bear. What’s really going on? Let me guess.” I pull my sister’s hand toward mine in an effort to comfort her. “You’re too afraid to tell me that you’re not taking a full courseload?”
No sooner does Serena open her mouth than a tall, dark, pain in the behind walks in strutting his stuff in a suit on a Saturday of alldays.
