We watch players. He asks the spectators to be quiet or to move back to the cart path. He makes notes on his clipboard. He talks on the walkie-talkie. I see various players from my school on different holes. Locke’s on seven, while Cal and David are on eight and nine. The girls from my school are on the back side of the course on holes eleven, fourteen, and sixteen. Since Locke was the first familiar face I saw, I gave a small wave when we made eye contact, but the grunt from Mr. Williams had me pulling my arm back down. Now I ignore everyone else I see, not wanting to get any of us in any trouble. I hope they know I’m trying to follow the rules.
The entire time, Charlie’s phone is vibrating in my back pocket. I’m praying these are texts meant for him and not him trying to reach me.
We’re starting back over at the tee box for hole one when I spot Leo.
There are four players who will tee off from this box once the golfers ahead of them clear out of the way. Leo is holding his club out in front of him and doing some side-to-side stretch. He hasn’t seen me yet, so I take a little moment to stare at him.
He’s wearing soft gray pants and a white-collared golf shirt that pops against his tan skin. His curls are out of control, twisting around the edge of his baseball cap. The cap itself is worn-looking and faded. You can tell it used to be dark blue but is now almost a soft purple. It makes me think it means something to him, since all of his other clothes look pressed and fresh.
I’m still eyeing him up and down, so it’s embarrassing when I get back to his face and he’s staring right at me. Smirk and all. I giggle, then turn away and collide with Mr. Williams’s glare.
“So how many golfers do you know who are playing today?”
I do a quick count. “Seven,” I respond quietly.
“Will this be a problem?” he asks.
I’m shaking my head. “No. No, sir. Not at all.”
Mr. Williams puts his clipboard on the dash and gets out of the cart. He moves around to the front as if wanting a closer view of what’s happening at box one.
I avoid looking at Leo again but do take the opportunity to check the phone, since it’s still going nuts in my back pocket. Texts from Bianca. Lots of them. While Mr. Williams is watching the players tee off and trying to write on that clipboard, I open the messages. I mean, what if it’s something important I need to tell Charlie about?
Except they aren’t messages. They are pictures of her in her costume for today’s western party. And she looks adorable.
BIANCA:Too much??? I may be the only one there in Daisy Dukes!
BIANCA:Would that be bad??
I can’t leave her hanging like that. And I can’t call Charlie with Mr. Williams right in front of me. I make an executive decision to answer like I know Charlie would.
CHARLIE:
Charlie is a man of few words. She sends back the blowing-kisses emoji and I know I made the right choice.
Finally, Mr. Williams returns and gets into the cart. “Okay, let’s move to the next tee box.”
It takes everything in me not to glance at Leo before driving away.
Phone Duty:Charlie
I eye Olivia’s phone like it’s possessed. That stupid alarm has gone off three times even though I pushedENDand notSNOOZE. But I’m ready for Aunt Lisa this time. At the first text that comes through, I reply,Jumping in the shower. I know how long it takes Olivia and Sophie to get dressed, so that should buy me an hour at least. It sucks I’m awake now, though.
I open every cabinet checking for food. Nothing looks good. Next is the pantry. Score! Cocoa Puffs for the win. Then I move to the fridge, but all hope for a bowl of chocolaty goodness is ruined when I spy the organic almond milk.
Aunt Lisa really is a monster.
I put the cereal back, then check out what else is in the fridge. Turkey bacon. Nope. Fruit. Nope. Yogurt—some with fruit, some without. Nope, nope. There is no food here. Now I’m awake and hungry. I consider walking down to Nonna’s for breakfast until I remember that fiasco yesterday when Aunt Lisa thought Olivia was there. Maybe I’ll go to Wes’s. They usually have food. I go to pick up Olivia’s phone but remember I just told Aunt Lisa that Olivia was in the shower.
“Is there coffee?”
I scream, then Sophie screams because I screamed.
“Damn! I forgot you were here,” I say.
“You have slammed every cabinet in this room. I could hear you upstairs.” She moves to the counter and pulls out the stuff to make coffee.
I open the fridge once more. “There’s no good food here.”
