Page 6 of Fake Engaged to the Enemy

All the indignities of being a teenager rush on me while, paradoxically, a swell of safety settles onto my shoulders.

“The roses are in bloom,” I note as George pulls to a stop on the white stones of the driveway.

Is it a good idea to come back here? I’ve resented Sandburrow for so long. I felt trapped here for too many years. Like that suffocating feeling when you wrap yourself in too many blankets, searching for comfort.

The front door opens, and Grandma comes out. She’s wearing a floppy sunhat and wearing the familiar old red overalls I've seen her in too many times.

A smile breaks over my face.

As much as I might dislike the town, there’s one thing that will always bring me back to Sandburrow.

I jump out of the truck. “Grandma!”

I rush to hug her. She laughs at the sight of me and opens her arms wide for me. I bury myself in her embrace.

And just like that, all the heaviness I’ve been feeling for three weeks now lifts.

“Well, I say!” Grandma hugs me back tightly. “I wasn’t expecting you until late. I don’t have anything made for breakfast, I’m afraid.”’

I release Grandma and step back, grinning. “I have a new recipe for crepes that I want to share anyway. I’m not here to get waited on hand and foot. You’ll have to put me to work.”

Grandma smacks me. “As though I’d ever just let you laze around.”

She looks so pleased to see me. I hope that she hasn’t heard the rumors about me and Crimson.

It’s only a matter of time before she finds out, though.

“I’ll grab my suitcase,” I say, turning back to the truck.

My stomach cramps as I do so. Because I should tell Grandma the truth of what’s happening before she hears any of the rumors.

A town this size, I can’t imagine it will be long before people talk to her about it.

But how am I going to explain it?

I pause as I gaze out toward the sea. Where Grandma’s house sits, we’re almost right on the beach. The beautiful golden-brown sand glistens in the sun. Trees and brush hug the edgesof the property. Small sage bushes dot the beach, giving it more depth.

Down to one side, the beach turns into the rocky outgrowths and disappears into the brush.

Beyond that are the tidal pools.

The memories of exploring those places bring tears to my eyes.

“George, you better bring in Catherine’s things,” Grandma calls warningly from the porch.

I hurry to the truck. “No, I’ve got it.”

One thing at a time. I can figure out how I’ll tell Grandma everything later. Right now, I just want to settle in and enjoy her company.

The awful thing about this whole situation is that the rumors about me and Crimson are completely false.

But there’s a grain of truth connected to that falsehood. And that’s the reason I’m here.

I hurry to the truck, but it’s too high for me to grab my bag. I climb up over the tire to jump into the bed.

“Oh! George,” Grandma calls scoldingly.

“No, really,” I answer. “I want to take care of it myself.”

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