Wrecked (Crystal Book Billionaires) (6 page)

Aunt Ginger straightened her shoulders and smiled like something had suddenly made her immeasurably happy. “What about a job? If you don’t go to school, I’m sure you can find a job that will look great on your resume.”

I didn’t have a resume. Why? Because I’d never had a job. Never planned to.

“I guess,” I said, thinking it best to humor her.

She continued to grin. “So. What do you want to do?”

“Well, I was studying English at NYU…”

“That’s nice. That’s a sound basis for a lot of careers.”

I speared a piece of broccoli and stared down at it. “Yeah…”

“So what field would you like to go into?”

“Give her a break,” Uncle Joe broke in. “She’s twenty-two. She may not know yet.”

I glanced up at him. His comment was the first one of the meal that made me feel really good.

Aunt Ginger pursed her lips. “I know that.”

Her husband just kind of half shrugged, like he knew where the conversation might be heading, and he wasn’t willing to go there.

“Anything is good,” he said, looking at me. “Experience is experience.”

I forced down a bite of broccoli. “Right,” I mumbled.

After dinner, I went straight back to the guest room and turned on my tablet to Skype Rainy. I settled down on the floor with my back against the bed and my legs stretched out. When my best friend’s heart shaped face appeared, I almost felt like crying. Her cream and white colored bedroom hovered in the background behind her as she collapsed on her stomach on her bed.

“You’re alive!” she squealed.

I sighed. “I know. But barely.” I peeked over my shoulder to make sure I’d shut the door all the way. It was tightly closed, but I lowered my voice just in case the walls were thin. “I don’t know how I’m going to do this.”

“What? NYU?”

I scoffed. “Sure… has anyone asked about me?”

“Madi did, and so did Jason Lovelace. I gave them both the story. You’re back in New York, living with your dad and waiting for school to start in the fall. Madi looked like she didn’t quite believe it, so I told her the school made an exception since you were one of their best students.”

“Damn right.”

Her eyes went wide. “But really. Back to the real story. What’s it like?”

“Ugh. Humid.”

She wrinkled her nose. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

“And small.” I gave it some thought. “But not as ugly as I would have thought. The downtown is actually pretty nice. A lot of the houses look really old.”

“So kind of like the town in Gilmore Girls?”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “A little bit.”

“What are you going to do there? Is it like
Pride and Prejudice
where you just walk around all day in fields and wait for someone to call on you?”

“Oh my God,” I gasped. “I almost forgot. My aunt and uncle want me to either go to community college or get a job.”

Rainy snorted. “They’re not the boss of you.”

“I’m staying in their house,” I reminded her.

She fluttered her eyelashes. “Whatever. So which are you going to do?”

I sighed. “I wouldn’t be caught dead going to a class at a community college.”

“Yeah, but a job could be even worse.”

“Or potentially much better.”

“Unless it’s at McDonald’s,” she added quickly.

“Ack,” I muttered, giving up.

“It’ll be okay,” she said, although she looked like she didn’t even believe it herself.

I sat up straighter, adjusting my leg that had started to fall asleep. “You didn’t by chance see Eli today, did you?”

“No. Have you talked to him?”

“Not since we said goodbye yesterday. I don’t want to look too needy. Some space is probably good, you know?”

“Yeah,” she agreed.

I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. “But God, I want to see him.”

She visibly perked up. “Maybe you’ll find a guy where you are.”

I shot daggers at her image. “Don’t even joke about that.”

She shrugged, the picture of innocence. “What? It could happen.”

“I did see one guy today who seemed potentially cute.”

“Seemed?”

“I only saw his profile. I mean, barely.”

“Ah.”

“He’s probably a redneck with a giant gun collection and a pickup truck that sports a heavy rotation of dead animals in its bed.”

Rainy giggled. “That sounds like a fantasy waiting to happen.”

I smirked, but it did nothing to quell the real sadness I felt deep down. “What are you doing tonight?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. There’s a party at Cory’s cousin’s house in the Hills.”

“Drive by my house and give it a wave for me, will you?”

She stuck her lower lip out. “Poor Grace.”

“I know.” My lower lip duplicated hers.

From somewhere near her, her phone beeped. She glanced over at it and then back at me. “That’s my mom.”

“Okay. Text me later?”

“I’ll try to.” She blew me a kiss. “Later.”

“Bye.”

Her face disappeared from the screen, and I set the tablet on the carpet next to me but didn’t move. My aunt and uncle’s voices came from somewhere in the house, the steady tone of their conversation seeping through my closed door. A cricket — or maybe a frog — chirped in the back yard. I pulled my knees up and hugged them close, listening to the sounds and waiting for something to change.

I sat there like that for a long time, just praying for the rescue that never came.

When I couldn’t stand the silence anymore, I pulled out my phone and logged onto Facebook. This time, I had three messages from people back home, two from girls I’d gone to high school with and one from a close friend of Eli’s. They all wanted to know how I was doing with everything that had happened.

“Ugh,” I said out loud, dropping my phone on the floor. I did
not
need their pity.

I picked the phone back up, thinking I would text Eli, but then changed my mind. It was too soon. I’d only just left Los Angeles, after all. The personal upheaval in my life couldn’t be an excuse for me to suddenly get clingy.

I got up and walked to one end of the room. Then I walked back to the bed. Then I walked back to the other end of the room.

I stopped when I realized I was pacing.

“Jesus,” I muttered. “I have got to get out of here.”

Grabbing my purse, I pulled out my little powder compact and checked my reflection. Deeming the situation on my face good enough for a night time stroll, I shoved my phone in my purse and booked it out the door.

The hallway was quiet, and I wondered if my aunt and uncle were already in bed. They did eat Sunday dinner at five-thirty, after all, so it really wasn’t that much of a stretch to assume they went to sleep right after that.

I stopped at the hook by the front door and grabbed the key Aunt Ginger had told me was mine. Quietly sneaking out the front door, just to avoid any possible conversation with my relatives, I edged down the steps. Before I went down the sidewalk, I checked the address on the mailbox and texted it to myself, just in case the neighborhood proved more confusing than I thought it was and I had to use GPS to find my way back.

I walked slowly, taking in each house I passed. There was still a good amount of light in the sky, but it was also officially dusk. Lights came on in the houses and a couple times I heard parents calling for children to come inside.

I walked a circle around the neighborhood, looking for any semblance of something different, but each house felt the same. The facades varied slightly, sure, but from what I could tell they were all middle class homes with mini vans in the driveways and tricycles in the grass.

The ball in my stomach grew heavier with each step. All around me were sounds I knew should have felt comforting. Happy chatter floating through open windows. Crickets chirping. The last few kids left outside shouting and laughing.

But I was anything but happy.

I was in hell.

*

I turned my head the other way, trying to get away from the light. It didn’t work. The morning sun spilled through the window, filling up the room. I huffed angrily and sat up in bed. For some stupid reason, I hadn’t even thought of closing the curtains the night before.

Slowly, I climbed out of bed. There was no point in just shutting the curtains and going back to hide between the sheets. Once I was fully awake, falling asleep again was usually impossible.

Instead, I wiggled out of my pajama shorts and into a pair of leggings. The tank top I’d slept in was long enough that it looked at least semi-stylish and, besides, there was no need to impress my aunt and uncle.

Or probably anyone else in that town.

The house was eerily quiet as I walked down the hall and into the living room. The door across the main area was open, revealing the master bedroom. One corner of a neatly made bed peeked from around the door frame. I took a few steps forward and craned my neck to look into the room, but it was just as empty as the rest of the house.

A little confused, I headed back down the hall towards the kitchen. Why would my aunt and uncle have left without telling me they were going somewhere first?

A piece of paper sat on the kitchen table, the corner of it held down by a vase full of roses. I snatched it up, eager for an explanation.

Grace,
Help yourself to anything in the fridge. There’s coffee in the cabinet. I’ll be back from work by five. In the shed is a bike you can use to get to know Crystal Brook better. Don’t forget the helmet!
- Aunt Ginger

Work. Duh. They’d both gone to work. With a start, I realized I didn’t even know what their jobs were. I would need to find some inconspicuous way to work that topic into the conversation at dinner that night.

After helping myself to a banana from the fruit bowl, I went back to the guest room to grab my makeup and toiletry bags. The cabinet in the bathroom held a thick stack of towels, and I took one out to hang on the door of the shower while I soaped up.

I took extra time doing my hair and makeup, going darker on the eyes than I usually did. My hair had a nice natural wave to it, thanks to my Colombian mom, and I opted to let it go natural instead of straightening it. The humidity in Crystal Brook was hell, and I knew better than to try and fight Mother Nature when it came to hair. If I flat ironed my locks they would end up frizzy and obscenely thick by noon.

The shed mentioned in the note stood at the end of the driveway. Small and with peeling red paint, the structure looked like it could contain anything off of a long list of potential horrors. The one that terrified me the most was spiders.

At my touch, the door moved the slightest bit. I nudged it open the rest of the way with my shoe and held my breath while I waited for a whole nest of black widows to launch themselves at my face. When that didn’t happen, I exhaled sharply and grabbed the handlebars of the powder blue bike. It was one of those old school ones that you have to back pedal to stop. Admittedly, it was pretty stylish, what with its woven straw basket. Going up hills would be torture, but at least I would look cute.

I left the helmet where I found it: in the basket. No way was I stupid enough to mar my appearance by placing an upside down plastic bowl on my head.

The wheels seemed to be good and full of air — not that I knew a whole lot about biking — and I cruised out and onto the sidewalk.

The sticky air flew by, almost feeling like dry California heat as it zoomed across my cheeks. The houses on the block were all still and quiet, and I wondered just what time it was. Although I’d checked my phone since waking up, I hadn’t bothered to note the hour. It was odd to nonchalantly lose track of time. It was almost like being on vacation.

No. This is not a vacation. This is temporary limbo.

I slowed down to take the corner. If I remembered correctly, downtown wasn’t much farther away. Maybe I could find the library and lose myself for a couple hours in fashion magazines. Or maybe I would collect some applications from the local businesses and keep my aunt and uncle off my back by having them at least think I was searching for a job.

The houses got bigger and older looking, and I knew I was headed in the right direction. On the drive from the airport, the historic looking homes had been right past the downtown area.

A woman wearing a straw hat kneeled in a flower garden working in the soil. She waved at me, and I stared back. No way did I know her… and no way could she know me. Maybe the town really was
that
small. Maybe the arrival of any new person was big news.

I didn’t have much time to think about it because a familiar house appeared across the street. Two stories. Bright yellow paint. A white picket fence around the front yard.

My heart rate sped up. It was Hot Profile Guy’s house.

I slowed the bike down, cruising as slowly as possible while still maintaining movement. Someone moved on the other side of the black SUV parked at the end of the house’s driveway, and I held my breath. A second later, he appeared…

And he was just as sexy as I knew he would be. With a strong, square jaw and eyes so blue I could see them from across the street, the sight sent a slight tremor through my whole body.

I tried to pedal even slower, but the bike wobbled. I went to right it, but the front wheel bounced over the curb. A blue mass appeared, obscuring my vision. The bike hit the giant recycling bin, knocking it over. Down I went, tumbling over the handlebars and landing half on the pavement and half on a smelly pile of egg cartons and pizza boxes.

Quick as a flash, I scrambled up, pulling the bike with me.

“Are you all right?” a male voice asked.

He hurried across the street, looking both ways for traffic as he did so. Up close, the different shades of caramel and sand in his hair were visible, making him more of a dark blond than I had thought.

He stopped a few feet away, reaching his hand out but not touching me.

“Are you okay?” he asked again.

“Y-Yeah,” I stammered.

My left knee throbbed a bit from where it had hit the pavement, but I already looked like a big enough doofus for losing control of the bike. I wasn’t going to draw my embarrassment out further by complaining about injuries.