Page 4 of Stranded With An Insatiable Shifter

I have a bedroom in the back, a kitchen, a full bathroom with a compostable toilet and a working shower, and a small couch to read on. I’ve never felt so alive in all my life.

“You’re gonna wanna take some of these,” he says as he grabs the plastic case of beef jerky and offers it to me.

“Thanks,” I say as I grab a few. I hand him one. “It’s on me.”

He laughs as he cracks it open. “You are the customer of the month. It’s final now.”

I chuckle as I open one and take a bite. It’s jalap?no flavor and it’s delicious. I add the rest of the container onto my pile.

He chuckles. “Told ya.”

I’m perusing the chocolate bars as he looks at my bus again. “Where did you drive that thing in from?”

“New York.”

He slaps the counter, making me jump. “You don’t say! Wow. I love New York City. Been there a few times a few decades ago.”

“I used to work in the Empire State Building,” I say with a grin.

His mouth drops. “That’s the most incredible thing I’ve heard all year.”

I like this guy. I was in New York City for years and not once did I ever strike up a conversation with a cashier. It’s kind of cool.

“And now you’ve moved to the mountains,” he says, staring at me in awe. “From one side of the pendulum to the other.”

“Yup! And loving every second of it.”

“Well, you got here just in time. Mosquito season is over.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” It’s that wonderful time between the end of summer and the beginning of fall. A few overzealous trees have already started to turn their leaves red and orange, but it’s still warm enough to wear a T-shirt in the afternoon. Although, not today. The wind is blowing like it’s in a rush to be on the other side of the state.

He scans all of the items and then helps me load them into my bus. I give him a quick tour and I feel a swell of pride at how impressed he looks.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m surprised a city girl like you got all this done.”

“Maybe I’m a mountain girl who had no business being in the city.”

He shrugs his slim shoulders. “I guess we’ll find out. I’m Earl,” he says, offering his hand. “Come back and visit when you’re done finding yourself in those mountains.”

I shake his hand and am surprised at how rough and calloused it is. “I will. I’m Jemma.”

“Jemma, the customer of the month.”

I laugh as he steps down onto the sidewalk. I head into the driver’s seat and he backs away with his hands in his pockets.

Having a skoolie is a lot of fun, but it does have its drawbacks. I can’t see anything behind me. It’s like trying to navigate a building on wheels.

“I hate this part,” I mumble as I push it into reverse.

I hit the gas a little too hard and my bus jerks back. A horn goes off, loud and aggressive.

Where did he come from?

“Sorry!” I shout even though he can’t hear me.

My back tire hits the curb—at least, I hope it’s the curb—and I get jerked around in my seat.

“Shit!”

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