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Authors: Tracie Puckett

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BOOK: Just a Little Sequel
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I looked at Luke from the corner of my eye and let a slow breath escape through my lips.

“Well, at least that wasn’t embarrassing.” Luke smirked and draped his arm around my waist. He pulled me closer and planted a soft kiss to the top of my head.

“Oh,” Bruno added just in time to spoil yet another moment. He turned back as he reached the back door and pointed a finger at the both of us, “You two best watch yourselves. The last thing either of your families need right now is another unplanned pregnancy. Got it?”

And with that, he was gone. Luke and I shared a simple smile.

Chapter Two

Friday, October 24 | 8:05 p.m.

“This is never going to work,” I tucked the bottom of Matt’s mask inside his collar.

“Sure it will,” his voice was muffled inside a cave of vinyl and rubber. “Dad doesn’t know half the people that show up to this thing nowadays. I’ll go just as unnoticed as the other three dozen uninvited guests that show up.”

I finished adjusting his costume and took a step back.

“How’s it look?”

“Freaky,” I shivered and shook my head at the blood and gore. Elvis perked up from the bed and barked, and I turned to pat him on the head. “Don’t worry, big guy. It’s just Mattie.”

Sadly, Matt didn’t know how to approach Halloween with a simplistic mindset. He’d always gone above and beyond to have the best costume at the party, and this year was certainly no exception—especially considering that he wasn’t even supposed to be in Oakland.

He’d stained his shirt with dirt and blood, ripped holes in the knees of his jeans, and dragged an old pair of tennis shoes through mud to give ’em a good grimy look. His mask matched his outfit; it was twisted and distorted and terrifying in every possible way. I wasn’t even sure what he was supposed to be, only that his costume was as petrifying as something you’d see in a horror film.

“Tell me again why you’re doing this?”

It was his first attempt at winning the
Best Dressed
title with a mask; he usually spent hours perfecting his hair and makeup with the best cosmetic supplies money could buy.

“I don’t want Dad to know I’m home,” he turned to the mirror. I wasn’t sure how well he could see himself through the small eye slits in the mask, but he must’ve had a good enough view of himself because he started adjusting his clothes to look even more tattered.

“He’s going to find out eventually, Mattie,” I said. “You can’t just move back home and expect it to go unnoticed. He’s not an idiot.” I wanted to remind him that Uncle Charlie had this very weird way of knowing
everything
that happened in Oakland, and he wasn’t about to miss something as big as his son dropping out of school, returning home, and living in his old bedroom. “You need to tell him.”

“I’ll tell him when the time is right.”

“And that’ll be…?”

“I don’t know,” he said, and although I couldn’t see his face, I knew he rolled his eyes. “I’ll tell him… soon.”

“Soon?”

“Tomorrow.”


Tonight
,” I said, “the longer you wait the worse it’ll be.”

“Julie,” he ripped off the mask that I’d worked so hard to secure beneath his collar. “Things didn’t work out, okay? I went to school. I gave it a year. I didn’t like it. End of story.”

I had trouble believing that. Matt hadn’t been able to shut up about his college experience over the summer. We heard all about the classes, the experience, the parties… the girls. He barely made it through his summer break without exploding. Once fall came around and it was time to go back to school, Charlie and I could hardly get him to stick around long enough to hug us goodbye.

“If you didn’t like it, then why did you even go back this semester? Why not come clean over the summer and save yourself some time, money, and energy?”

“I didn’t know I wanted to drop out then,” he said. “It just… I don’t know, it just dawned on me, hit me like a ton of bricks. I woke up one day and suddenly realized that I didn’t belong there.”

“And what’s your plan now that you’re here? You’re just going to Skype him every night and pretend that you’re hundreds of miles away in your dorm? You’re going to sneak food from the kitchen when he’s not home so that you don’t starve? What? What’s the plan, Mattie?”

“I don’t know,” he closed his eyes. “Julie, I didn’t really think it through—”


Really
? Because it sounded like you had a solid plan.”

“Stop,” he said. “Just stop. Can you just let me enjoy tonight? I’ll tell Dad tomorrow. In the meantime, I want to enjoy what’s left of my freedom.”

I understood that much. When Charlie found out that Matt had left school and returned home for good, he was going to lose it.

Looking at my cousin, despite his grumpy attitude and the fact that I’d just given him a really hard time, I couldn’t help but feel terrible for him. I couldn’t imagine the pain or misdirection he must’ve felt. How could he just abandon the one dream he’d always worked so hard for? What had happened? Matt never gave up on
anything
. Never. So why this? Why now?

Matt had just started his second year studying culinary arts (not that he even needed the formal education; he was a pro without it). And though he video chatted twice a week, texted on a daily basis, and flew in during every break, he’d sworn that there was nothing in the world he loved more than being away on his own. Sometimes I believed him, and other times I’d swear he was lying right to my face. I knew he missed me. He missed Charlie, and not that I could blame him for even a second, he missed being home in Oakland. But he’d had a dream, and his dream had
never
included giving up.

For whatever reason, missing home or hating college, Matt snuck in the house and surprised me about an hour earlier. Even after a full sixty minutes of being in his presence, I still couldn’t wrap my head around it. Deciding to give my cousin the break he’d asked for and drop the subject (for now), I twirled in a circle and let my dress whip around my knees.

“We’ve already concluded that
your
costume is whack, but what do you think of mine? Pretty great, eh?”

Matt leaned a little further back and shook his head. “Very subtle, Julie.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” he rolled his eyes big time, ‘it’s just that… dude, a wedding dress, really? Don’t you think that screams desperate?”

“No,” I stood next to him and assessed myself in the mirror, “I think it says
hey Luke, I have a sense of humor about the fact that you refuse to marry me!”

Matt groaned and rolled his eyes for the fifteenth time since I’d shown him what I planned to wear to the party. There was nothing—let me repeat myself,
nothing
—wrong with my outfit. It was a simple, summery, beautiful wedding dress, complete with a veil and white heels. I splurged on a pair of short gloves to really tie it all together, and I looked pretty freakin’ fantastic.

Remember that whole ‘have to pick my battles’ thing? Well, I was holding onto all of my energy in case Luke decided to back out of settling down. I didn’t want to apply the pressure too hard, but I didn’t see a darn thing wrong with dropping hints whenever I could. So what? I wanted to marry the man I loved; I had no shame in admitting that.

“I thought about wearing Mom’s dress,” I looked over at the garment bag hanging on a hook outside my closet. “I had it cleaned and pressed. But… I just couldn’t bring myself to put it on. Not for something as trivial as a costume party, you know?” I glanced back down at my second-hand gown. “I found this one at the thrift shop.”

“I don’t care where you found it. It makes you look desperate.”

“Just stop,” I playfully shoved him aside. “Luke can take a joke. He’ll think it’s cute and endearing, just like his adorable girlfriend.”

“Key word:
girlfriend
, Julie. Not fiancée, not bride, not wife.
Girlfriend
. If he’s not proposing, take the hint.”

“You are
such
a party pooper.”

Matt raised his brow as if he enjoyed the emotional torment. While I thought it was just mind-boggling that Luke still hadn’t popped the question, my cousin thought it was downright hilarious. He never missed an opportunity to remind me that I was no closer to getting married than I was this time last year. I should’ve known that my costume would spark an endless line of rude and unnecessary commentary from him. So, yes, by asking for his opinion, I’d brought the ridicule upon myself. I should’ve known better.

“Alright,” Matt put his mask back over his head and worked to hide the bottom beneath his shirt. He managed to nail it without my help this time, and he turned back to me. “I’m out of here. Enjoy losing, loser.”

I watched as my cousin turned out of my bedroom and down the hall, determined to steal the title of
Best Dressed
from me yet again.

Letting Matt’s comment roll off my shoulders, I turned and faced the full-length mirror one last time. I smoothed my hands down the front of the gown and adjusted the veil in my upswept hair. I brought it down in front of my face, smiling at myself through the fine netting.

“Perfect,” I nodded once, and that was about all the time I had left to admire my reflection. I could hear the guests already roaring on the floor below, and Bruno had just started up the karaoke machine out front.

I glanced out my window and smiled as I watched Luke pull up (he’d gone home an hour ago to shower the pumpkin guts out of his hair). I dashed out of my bedroom door. Flying down the steps as fast as I could, I didn’t even bother to return the ‘hellos’ I’d gotten from Rebecca and Molly as I passed them.

I ran out the front door and greeted Luke on the sidewalk, but we both stopped about two feet short of one another. He tilted his head slightly upward and eyed my dress with an open mouth, and I planted both of my hands on my hips to indicate my frustration that he hadn’t bothered dressing up at all.

“Subtle, Jules.”

“Where’s your costume?” I finally dropped my hands. I eyed his dark, tightly fitted blue jeans, black tee-shirt, and his low profile Chuck Taylors. “You promised you would dress up this year.”

“I did,” he looked down at his outfit.

“You did?”

“Yeah,” he said, looking down at himself again. “I’m off-duty-Luke.”

“Oh, nice,” I imitated the same exaggerated eye roll I’d gotten from Matt earlier.

Luke smiled, all too pleased with himself for getting away with not dressing up three years in a row. I couldn’t really blame him for the first year; after all, he
had
just gotten out of the hospital. Last year he had no excuse, and he came in his uniform as
on-duty- Luke
. This year, well…you can see he found humor in carrying on his tradition.

Luke stepped forward and lifted my veil. He pressed a gentle kiss on my lips before dropping it back in place.

“What was that for?”

“Do you need a reason?”

“No.”

“Okay then,” he winked.

As I turned into him for a hug, he took a step back and surveyed the yard. His eyes scanned the faces going in and out of the house, those gathering around the bonfire, and even a few approaching from the street. He waved at his sister and niece up on the porch, nodded once to his dad out back, and then studied the growing group of Oakland policeman as they gathered to watch Bruno perform.

There was a lot going on, and the party was filling up quickly. Luke had suddenly taken a serious interest in watching every man, woman, and child that crossed his path.

“Looking for anyone in particular?”

“Charlie,” he kept surveying the crowd. “Have you seen him tonight?”

“Of course,” I nodded up at the house, “he was just in the kitchen right before I came out. Why?”

He shook his head as if to say
no reason
. He turned back and squeezed my hand, “I’m going to run in and grab a drink. You want anything?”

“Nope,” I said, but he hadn’t really stuck around long enough to hear my answer. He was already taking brisk steps up to the porch.

“Dang, what’s his hurry?” a friendly voice asked behind me, and I turned to shrug as Derek stepped up and placed his arm around my shoulder.

I reached my hand around his waist and held onto him, watching as the rest of the partygoers gathered and socialized in their own little groups. Charlie’s annual bash seemed to grow larger every year, and just like Matt had pointed out earlier, we barely recognized most of the strange faces; it used to be limited to close friends and family, and now it seemed like every person we’d ever met (no matter how briefly) showed up to get in on the action. Charlie, of course, enjoyed the popularity, so he didn’t mind the large turnout.

I turned and looked back at Derek. He, like Luke, had chosen not to dress up this year.

Two years ago, he’d come dressed as my Prince Charming and helped me win the
Best Dressed Couple
title. Last year he just showed up—arriving in Oakland for the first time in months. He swung by the party to let us know he’d returned home from his ‘soul searching’ expedition, and when I caved into his arms, crying like the hysterical, hormonal child that I am, he was shocked to learn that I’d really believed he was gone forever.

Have some faith. I told you I’d never leave again, Julie
, he’d said over and over.
I just needed some time.

While he continuously promised me that he’d only needed some time alone, time to reflect, and time to recuperate, I still couldn’t believe he was home for good. Not only was he dealing with the loss of his father, he was trying to live with the fact that
he
was the reason his dad was six feet under and rotting. And if that wasn’t enough, he was nursing a broken heart. Some jerk—
let’s not point fingers here
—had fallen in love with another man and left him feeling a little too stung by rejection.

But he took the time he needed, and he came back. He hadn’t left since.

I looked at him again and shook my head. It made me a little sad that he hadn’t dressed up this year. He was just goofy enough to come up with a really great costume if he’d wanted to. I took a moment to consider that maybe Derek thought he’d outgrown the fun of Halloween. Maybe he thought that dressing up was just too juvenile for a man in his position. Things change the older you get, and with age comes maturity. With all of his newfound responsibilities, was he suddenly making that dreaded transition into adulthood?

BOOK: Just a Little Sequel
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