Page 10 of The Road Sometimes Taken

“Well, duh. But the more I think about it, the more I don’t want to do this alone,” she replies and closes her lips tight before her watch lets out an alarm.

“Shit, shit, shit, I have to go!” Her voice is frantic as she leaps up from the grass, her movements hurried. She starts to walk past me, but I quickly grab her hand. A jolt of electricity zips through my fingers, and I can tell she feels it too—her eyes snap back onto mine, wide with surprise.

“Breathe, Cara,” I say, my voice calm but firm. “You’re moving a mile a minute. Where do you need to go?”

“I have that stupid end-of-the-year dinner,” she says, her words tumbling out in a rush. “They’re throwing a goodbye party, and I’m already late if I want to shower and pick up a gift for my boss.”

“How about this?” I reply, trying to keep my tone calm and hoping it rubs off on her. “You go take a shower, and I’ll handle the gift. What do you want to get him?”

“Of course you would think my boss is a man, Mr. CEO. My principal is a woman, and she loves wine, so I was going to get her some fancy bottle of wine.”

“I can handle the wine. Just go shower, and I’ll figure it out.”

“Alright, but the keys to my van are inside,” she says.

“I’m not driving that,” I reply. “I’ve got this, Carita. Just go.”

Cara heads into her house, leaving me outside. I pull out my phone and dial Lucia, my assistant for the past month.

“Mr. Zabana, how can I assist you?”

“Change of plans, Lucia. I need you to send a car to my location right away,” I say into the phone, my tone clipped with urgency.

After ending the call, I stand there for a moment, the evening air brushing against my skin. I glance around, and I feel the weight of the situation settle in. I’m left waiting, my mind already racing. The streetlights flicker on, casting long shadows on the pavement as I wait for the car to arrive and think about how the hell I found myself in this situation and what am I going to do about it.

1 For the love of Christ, she’s going to kill us.

2 earth to Cara

4

DIRTY SHIRLEY

ROCKLAND, GRACIE ABRAMS

Cara

“Go shower,Cara. Let me handle it,Cara.Go do your thing,Carita,” I grumble to myself while I scrub furiously. Fucking Manuel Zabana had to be here and throw everything off. I’m going to kill Allie, too. What kind of friend doesn’t give her best friend a heads up about sending her obnoxiously hot brother to gorescueher? What in the actual fuckety fuck?!

What about me trying to be independent and shit? What about me trying to find myself after being locked in a two-life spiral? My life is split evenly between school and summer breaks in Baker. Now that both of my worlds have crumbled, I can freely do whatever I want. Not that I couldn’t before; but when Allie decided to leave Baker Oaks, cut out everything from that town aside from me and our friendship, it was hard juggling the secrets and the lies. But I would do that for her twice over in a heartbeat. Now, if she had told me what kept her and Jake separate all those years, I would’ve put some sense into that brain of hers. I know why she did it butnow, at twenty-eight, I don’t think it needed to happen. Not my call though, so I kept being the supportive friend she needed.

Every summer, I set up my townhouse for rent and travel back to Baker to help my parents out at Ronnie’s. Ronnie’s was Grandpa’s legacy, and he left it to my dad; one day, it will be mine, too. Even though my passion is not running the eclectic homey diner, I still love doing it. I love serving others and getting to know them better. I can tell when Sue is having a rough day because she drinks her coffee black, or when Roe’s on a creative streak because she orders food she doesn’t normally eat and sits and doodles. I’ve seen people meet there and then go on to have relationships, and I’ve heard more town gossip at Ronnie’s than anywhere else.

I do love working there but I don’t love anything more than teaching. I’ve known I wanted to be a teacher since I could remember and there’s nothing that makes me want to leave this profession I love. Not the hard days, not the sad days, not the long days. I love it. So when my best friend moved back to Baker and got a job teaching at the elementary school—the same one I attended as a kid—I called Mr. Ryan and begged for a SPED position. Their previous teacher quit so it was meant to be.Luck, he said.Serendipitous, I replied. There’s very little in life left to luck and a whole lot that is just meant to be.Fate. Magic.

This meant I could jump right back to my favorite place, with my favorite people, and do what I love most. All perfect, except, my stupid ex lives there and now he’s engaged to Jake’s ex. They were supposed to move out of Baker, but who knows when that will happen.

So I wanted to do something for myself and take the road trip I’ve always wanted to take. I asked Cole to go with me multiple times, but he could never take the time off to do it. If itwasn’t something he wanted to do, there was never enough time in his eyes. He did suggest I take the trip with Allie, but she was always working crazy hours and only did day or weekend trips with me. I didn’t feel like going with anyone else, so it just didn’t happen.

“Shit,” I groan to the empty room as cold water hits my skin. After getting out of the shower, drying my body and dressing in my favorite green dress with a daisy pattern, I blow out my hair and add some blush so I don’t look dead. I open the fridge, the cool air brushing against my skin, and reach for the pitcher of sweet tea. I tilt it, pouring the tea into my iced coffee cup, the clink of ice echoing as it fills. With a satisfied nod, I sling my purse over my shoulder, the familiar weight comforting against me. Almost two hours later I’m ready, so I take a deep breath, push the front door open, and step outside, the summer air warming my face immediately.

“Whoa, where are you going so fast?” Manny asks as I almost run smack into him. He’s standing there with a gift bag the size of a wine bottle in one hand and three other shopping bags in the other. He’s wearing a different shirt than before—this one dark and fitted as if it were tailor-made for him. Of course it fits perfectly; Manny always looks like every piece of clothing was designed just for him.

I’m not sure when I first noticed how attractive he was—maybe around his seventeenth or eighteenth birthday—but now, seeing him as a fully grown man, he’s undeniably stunning. His navy button-down shirt, slightly unbuttoned at the collar, and his dark jeans highlight his well-defined figure. The little bracelet he always wears adds a subtle touch of sophistication. He looks and smells expensive, with an effortlessly polished vibe. Meanwhile, I’m a crumbling mess.

He clears his throat, bringing me back to reality and Iremember briefly how he said he would go get a gift for my boss.

“How did you get changed so fast? Is that wine for my boss?” I ask.

---