Page 13 of His Girl of the Summer

“Yeah,” I reply, my shoulders falling and my head dipping. This place is nowhere near suitable for a girl like Charli. It's an absolute disaster. She's probably thinking of ways to get on the next bus home.

“IT'S PERFECT!” Charli screams, almost bursting my eardrums. She pushes past me and weaves in and out of boxes, bags, old furniture, and teetering stacks of books. You name it, it's here. Charli doesn't seem to care. She's turning around in the room and making plans, and I swear I fall even further in love with her. “We could get a thrift store couch here, add some flowy curtains, oh I bet we could find one of those old box TVs for really cheap. We could have everything we need! With the food downstairs, we could stay here forever,” she says, bouncing up and down. I haven't seen her this carefree since she stepped foot in this town. It's like once the walls were down, her personality amplified. I can't believe I got to be the lucky bastard who witnessed it firsthand. One thing she says stops me in my tracks, though. Stay here forever. Would she do that? Stay with me? I know we both have school to return to, but what if this could always be us?

“Let's get started! If we can get through half of it, we can sleep here tonight! Oh my gosh, our own place! Hurry up!” She moves around like the little fairy she is, shaking her ass as she bends down to rifle through boxes. I can't keep the wide-ass grin off my face as I step up beside her and get to work.

It takes all day to clear out the room, but as it's getting dark, we move the last box from the corner. The first thing we did when we got through enough of the storage was get the cot out and clean it. Barb brought us some clean sheets, a quilt, extra towels, and some cleaning supplies. We got it clean enough to stay the night, so we headed back to the Inn and got our bags.

Now, we are down to the last box. Charli scoots it from the corner, trying to get it to the center of the room. Just as I start to move and help her lift it, the box breaks and the contents fall all across the floor.

“Oh no! I didn't mean to break it,” Charli says, picking up what looks like old letters, photos, and other mementos. She stops and looks at one picture in particular. A young couple in bathing suits stands on the beach with the water in the background. The photo is obviously from the seventies, if the attire is anything to go by.

“I was just coming to see if you all needed anything. Oh, what do you got there?” Tony asks, ambling through the open door. “Ah, me and the old girl. That was the summer we met.”

He smiles fondly as he takes the photograph from Charli and pulls it closer. “She was the prettiest thing I had ever seen. We had both just turned eighteen, and I was ready to go wild with my buddies that summer. Her family came to the country club and stayed in the cabins. You know, those old hoity-toity places we ain't rich enough to see the insides of,” he chuckles before continuing. “She came from a real wealthy family, and I didn’t have two pennies to rub together. I was the busboy for this very diner that summer when she walked in with some of her friends. I knew she was too good for me, but I didn't care. When she looked at me… I knew. I tried to talk to her that first day and nearly shouted my name at her.” Another chuckle.

“Her friends laughed, but not my Barb. She gave me the biggest smile, held her hand out, and introduced herself. We were inseparable all summer. That is until her dad caught wind. He forbade her from ever seeing me again. That didn't stop my Barb, though. She grabbed what she had brought with her, and we stayed in this very studio apartment until I bought the diner from the last owner. He was a grumpy old bastard, but he looked out for me. A year after buying the diner, I bought her our first home, and we have never looked back.”

I look at Charli in that moment, wondering, hell, hoping, that could be us one day. Maybe not this diner, but their same trajectory. Decades with the woman of my dreams, the woman I love beyond reason. One-bedroom studio apartment or a mansion in Hollywood. If she's there, that's where I want to be.

Chapter Nine

Charli

I laugh and elbow Kas in the stomach as he nibbles on my neck, right in my ticklish spot. We are lying on the queen-size futon we got from a thrift store on the other side of town. I’m leaning into his back as I sketch out the view of the boardwalk we can see from the window in our apartment. Our apartment, gah, I swear I’ll never tire of saying that. We have been settling in, and it feels so natural. I can just picture this being our life. The more time I spend with Kas, the more I realize I don't think I can go back to school, go back home, or go back to my parents.

I would be miserable. There is nothing back there for me that makes me smile. Harper is the only possible hang-up, but even if I were to stay with Kas, there is no doubt in my mind she will visit Grayson, so I'll still see her. I’ve been washing dishes in the kitchen while Kas works his shifts in the diner. I noticed they did it when they got the chance, and I wanted to help.

Yesterday, Tony gave me a hundred bucks and said if I wanted a job, I had one. I could either work the dishes like I was or be a waitress. I chose to stay in the kitchen, and it's been amazing. I still get to draw when there are no dishes to wash, and I try to keep them caught up. We finally have the next two days off. I think we might try to spend some time with the group tomorrow, but I'm enjoying my man's company right now.

“I need to leave for a couple hours today,” Kas says hesitantly, and it has my spine straightening. We were supposed to have the whole day together.

“What, why? Where are you going?” I ask.

“I need to go get the rest of my stuff from my mom's house, and I want to check on her again. It's been a few weeks since I've been back home, so I need to make sure she's okay,” he sighs.

“I’ll go with you,” I say, smiling and throwing my sketchbook aside. I straddle his lap and grab his face in my hands.

“I think you should stay here. I won't be gone long, I promise, baby,” he says, but I want to see where he grew up, and I am worried about him and want to be there for him if he needs me. From the stories he's told me about where he grew up and his mother, there is no way I want him going in there alone.

“I want to go with you. Good, bad, ugly, I'm in this Kas. Which means I have your back. I’m going with you,” I say in a tone that brooks no argument. He smirks at me, but it doesn't erase the worry I see in his eyes.

“I don't want you to see where I grew up, Fairy. I know you've heard stories, but seeing it is a whole different thing. I already know I'm not good enough for you. What if you see where I came from and realize it too?” and there it is, what he's really worried about. I cup his cheek and kiss all along the scar.

“You are one of the strongest people I know, Kas. What you went through and where you came from made you who you are today. I wouldn't change a thing about you,” I say, bending down and kissing his lips. I quickly lose myself, and we spend a little bit longer in bed than we planned, with me showing him exactly what he means to me.

Later that day, we pull into a trailer park that's seen better days. The grass isn't cut in nearly any yard. Half of the houses look abandoned, and the other half are barely holding out. Still, I keep my face impassive, not wanting Kas to see the devastation on my face. It's not that it changes how I look at him, knowing this was his home. It's knowing that Kas deserved the world and a mother who adored him.

“This is it,” he mumbles, pulling up to the last house on the left. The dirt and rust caked on the house make it hard to tell what color it used to be, but it's still standing, and that's all that matters. I want his mom to be safe for his own peace of mind. He puts his truck in park and turns to me.

“Would you listen if I told you to stay in the car?” he asks.

“Not a chance.”

“Yeah, didn't think so,” he sighs, taking the keys from the ignition and hopping out. He comes to my side and helps me down as well. Together, we walk hand in hand up the small steps to the barley hanging on porch. Kas knocks twice before opening the door and walking in.

“Mom, you up?” he calls softly. Just as he walks through the door, a bottle comes flying toward his head, hitting the wall beside him. He flinches before pushing me back.

“Why the fuck you coming to my house yelling? I thought you moved the fuck away? Far away from here and finally leaving me the hell alone,” comes the angry screeching of a bitter old woman.

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