“Why does it sound like you’re wondering if he’s right?”
“Excuse me?” My voice is now high-pitched, calling me out on my own bluff.
Alright, so the thought crossed my mind. Sue me.
Kyla’s obnoxious laughter barks through the phone, and I regret even telling her about it in the first place.
“I thought you were supposed to listen to me vent. You’re not helping right now.”
“Helping with what? You’re the one thinking about what it’d be like to screw Brix.”
“Still not helping.”
“Alright, alright,” she sighs. “I’m sorry. Seriously, could you imagine if last night had gone differently and you had gone home with him? How traumatized you would’ve been waking up and doing the walk of shame as your mom walked through the front door?”
“Oh. My. God. We’re not friends anymore. This conversation is over.”
“Okay, sorry. I’m done.”
“Thank you.”
“For today.”
“Kyla,” I chide, “I’m about to hang up on you.”
“Alright, fine. I’ll stop. At least tell me what happened.”
I spend the next twenty minutes walking through the streets of my new neighborhood venting about how terrible my morning was. Growing up, we mostly lived in apartments. It was only my mom and me, so it wasn’t like we needed a ton of space.
Looking at some of these houses, their perfectly manicured lawns, and their white picket fences, I feel oddly out of place. This wasn’t, and never has been, our world. As much as I hate the idea of living in the same house with Brix, the thought of taking a dip in their massive pool I spotted outside does sound relaxing.
“I have to figure out what I’m going to do for a job while I’m back. I need to save up money, which will also get me out of the house. Got any ideas?”
“Why don’t you apply at Whiskey Barrel?”
Thinking back to the bar we met up at last night, I consider her suggestion. It was packed for most of the night. I can only imagine the tips the bartenders rake in on a Friday night alone.
“I’ll consider it. I need to figure something out soon, though.”
We make plans to meet up for lunch early next week as I finish up the rest of my walk. Just as I’m turning to head back up the driveway toward the house, I’ve decided I’ll turn in an application at Whiskey Barrel.
While it may not be the best idea, considering it’s Brix’s stomping ground, I need a job, and in a couple months, I’ll be hitting the pavement out of here anyway.
When I make it back to the house, I quickly grab my stuff from my suitcase, not bothering to waste my time unpacking yet. I jump in the shower to clean up before heading over to the bar.
Before I take off, I glance over the balcony down into the living room, and there’s no sign of my mom or Jasper.Just as the thought creeps into my mind, music begins blaring from the room at the end of the hallway. By the sound of the bass reverberating through the floor, I’m going to make a wild guess it’s coming from Brix’s room.
The door is open, just barely, and against my better judgment, I take the two steps toward the door, wondering what he’s doing.
Bracing my hand against the edge of the door frame, I hold my breath while peering through the crack.
“Can I help you?” The sound of his voice coming from behind me sends my back collapsing against the wall, holding a hand over my chest.
“What the hell, Brix? You scared the shit out of me.”
“My bad. It’s my fault I snuck up behind you like I did,” he deadpans, not sounding the least bit apologetic.
I roll my eyes, knowing he’s caught me.
