There’s a slight defensiveness in her tone that makes me realize I may have offended her, which is the last thing I want to do. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m not gonna lie, when I first got to Blaire, not having my phone was the hardest adjustment for me. But it’s more than that. Now that I’ve gotten to know what it’s like here, I can see that it takes effort to live here. The farming co-op, fundraising, the manual labor.” I motion to the convenience store behind us. “All thiswork to keep up the town is making me wonder if it’s worth it.”
Callie surveys the area around her with an expression that tells me she’s not seeing what I see. Cracked pavement, decrepit buildings, and messy, overgrown fields of tall grass and weeds.
“Just because it’s hard doesn’t mean it’s not worth the work. In fact, I would say it’s all the more reason to keep at it,” she says. “With fewer people in town, the need here is greater than anywhere else. And like I said, Blaire will always be my home, whether I end up staying or moving elsewhere.”
I’ve never met anyone like Callie. With my friends, our conversations were always centered on ways to bolster ourselves, not others. For example, when Brynn offered to set up a meeting for me with Kiki, she knew it would benefit her if my popularity rose, just like I knew Willow’s exposure would help boost my popularity, since I helped her get her starring role on a new sitcom. Until now, it never crossed my mind that I could find fulfillment in doing something for others without expecting anything in return.
Of course I know that charitable acts are an important part of being a well-rounded person and are inherently good. Back in LA, my family always donated to various causes and made it a point to volunteer when we could, because that was what was expected of prominent families like ours. But what Callie is describing goes beyond the occasional service act. She’s not volunteering her time because she has to or because of the promise of something in return. She’s not even doing it because she feels obligated to. She’s doing it because she wants to.
It’s clear that Callie and I have had a different upbringings. So I shouldn’t be surprised that her response to the town’s needs is different from mine.
“Is that why you’re so invested in improving the town?” I ask,turning my attention to Brennan. “Because you know your time is limited here?”
“It was at first. But like Callie said, Blaire is such a small community. Even in the observatory, I didn’t expect to be as involved. As an intern, I thought I’d be getting coffees or taking lunch orders. But because there aren’t many who work here, everyone pitches in. So far, it’s been an incredible experience. With any luck, I’ll be able to get a job here one day.”
“You want to end up working here?” I raise a brow up at him. “In Blaire?” I add for clarification. I understand Callie’s reasons for wanting to stay. She’s grown up with this lifestyle. And it’s one thing to experience what it’s like to live here. But Brennan is from a big city like me. Being in Blaire has got to be as much of an alternate universe for him.
“That’s the hope,” he says without a hint of irony. “Believe it or not, there aren’t that many job opportunities for planetary scientists, and the field is highly competitive. I can only hope to one day work at the Blaire Observatory. It’s why I’m so invested in the town’s beautification initiative. In a way, I feel like this is my home, and seeing the impact of my work is something I can’t put a price on.”
“Right?” Callie says, matching his sentimental expression. “It’s like that with farming too. There’s nothing like seeing the actual fruits of your labor. I think it’s a primal urge to provide for not only yourself but those around you.”
“Exactly,” Brennan says. And there it is again. The look of hopeless admiration plastered on his face, like he’s completely and entirely enamored by her. Which, I guess, makes sense. A small town, similar interests, and a finite amount of time together? It’s totally giving summer rom-com. Except I don’t see this one ending in a happily-ever-after, not if Callie is giggling half as much asGavin is on the other end of his conversations with her. Still, it’s surprising to feel the sting. Not because of the rejection. Okay, fine, maybe a little of it is. But now that I’ve gotten to know Brennan better, I see that Gavin is right. Brennan is the type looking for a long-term girlfriend. Which makes me wonder: If Brennan isn’t interested in me, is Gavin right? That I’m not girlfriend material? And if he is, does it mean I’m not girlfriend material now or ever?
Chapter 25
By the time I get home, it’s almost five. Thank God that Gavin is in the kitchen making dinner. We worked through lunch, and now I’m starving.
“How was it?” he asks, whisking a bowl of something.
“It was great,” I say, closing the front door behind me. “And long. Now I’m exhausted and hungry.” I flop dramatically onto a kitchen chair and sigh. “What have you been up to?”
“I’ve been experimenting with a new recipe.” His face lights up with an expression not much different from when he talks about Callie. “It didn’t end up taking long, so dinner should be ready soon,” he says.
Even though Mom’s not here, I can hear her voice nagging me, so instead of standing by idly like I want to do, I decide to help Gavin in the kitchen. I scan the counter for something to do. There’s a carton of eggs, soy sauce, sugar, and onions. I can’t tell what he’s making from the random assortment of ingredients on the counter, so I pick up a head of garlic and begin peeling it. A minute later he stops me.
“Please don’t,” he says. “No offense, but you’re really not good at this stuff.”
“I’m okay with that.” I shrug. “I mean, no one’s good ateverything,” I tease. “What’re you making anyway?”
“It’s a surprise,” he says.
I consider forcing it out of him, but seeing how much he’s enjoying being in his element, I decide against it. Instead I sit back down at the kitchen table and finish telling him about the meeting with the town council. Not too long after, Mom and Dad come home with a trunk and two suitcases in tow. I help them unload them from Jean’s truck. Mom and I take a suitcase each, and Dad brings in the box.
“That’s everything?” Gavin asks once we’re inside the house.
Dad shakes his head. “We couldn’t bring everything back, so we had to decide what to keep.”
“It was easier to do than we thought. So many of our items are either out-of-date or not practical,” Mom continues. “Ball gowns and tuxedos.”
“Tennis rackets and golf clubs,” Dad adds.
“We kept the items that still held either monetary or sentimental value, and we donated the rest. This is what was left.” Although it makes sense, it’s sad to see the remnants of our old lives amount to so little.
“What are you making?” Mom asks Gavin in the kitchen.
“Something I’ve been experimenting with.” He tries to shield her from seeing it. Though I’m guessing she’ll figure it out—if I could tell just from the smell, Mom definitely can. The aroma of Korean barbecue is something we’re very familiar with. Still, Mom respects his wishes, and instead she helps Dad unpack the items in the living room. Seeing as I’ve been banished from the kitchen, too, I join them.
As I begin going through the suitcases, I’m reminded of items I had forgotten about. Rhinestone-studded bags, fur-lined wraps, crocodile leather belts—things that would make me stick out here in all the wrong ways.
