Page 5 of Love is Trash in Hallow's Cove

“Raccoons. I saw one digging through our dumpster last night. It made a mess of the crates out there, too.”

The teen smiles like I’ve told him a joke and not reported a potential pest situation. “Yeah, that happens sometimes.”

I frown at his response. “Should we, like, report it to animal control or something? What if it’s rabid?”

“Nah, there’s no need. If it’s really bugging you, you could go talk to Jake.”

Bettie, the third of the wolf shifter triplets, rounds the corner from where she was directing Mrs. Franco to snack cakes. “Yeah, if there’s a problem with raccoons, Jake is your guy.”

“Oh okay, great!” I say cheerily, happy that there’s apparently a town raccoon expert. I really didn’t like the prospect of calling animal control. The furball was pretty adorable in the brief moments I saw it, if I ignore the fact that it was running off with my panties. Still have no clue what that was about, but it’s more than a little embarrassing to think that my underwear was stinky enough to attract a wild animal. “Uh, who is Jake, and where can I find him?”

“You haven’t met Jake yet?” Freddie asks, cocking his head. His sister’s head tilts in an identical way and suddenly I’m thinking about how damn cute they must’ve been as little kids. My ovaries would explode if I had a trio of adorable shifter babies looking at me like that.

“No? Should I have?” I ask, shaking away the image.

“He runs Trash to Treasure,” Bettie clarifies.

“Oh!” Now I understand why they’re suggesting I talk to him. If I have a raccoon problem, then so does he, since we share a dumpster. “I haven’t had a chance to check it out yet. Or introduce myself. Crap, I should probably go introduce myself. Will he be upset that I haven’t?”

Bettie shakes her head, patting me on my shoulder. “He won’t care. Jake is nice! Weird, but nice.”

“Weird how?” I’m not sure what these nineteen-year-olds’ definition of weird is and don’t want to sound too out of touch by venturing a guess.

Freddie snorts. “Uh, it’s kinda hard to describe. Better to go in and see for yourself.”

I grimace slightly at the thought of meeting someone who is a “see for yourself” level of weird. I have my quirks, which I try to keep to myself, but this sounds like he’s over there telling everyone who comes into the shop that the government controls the weather.

Freddie drops his magazine, brows raising at my reaction. “But he’s totally harmless!”

“Yeah, he’s cool,” Bettie adds.

“Really weird, but cool. Sounds kinda like me,” I say with a self-deprecating laugh.

The siblings tilt their head again, but this time to the other side.

“Which part of that is confusing you? Please say it’s the weird part… You know what? I don’t need to know,” I say, waving a hand at the teens dismissively before they can reply and crush me. “If you’re good here, I’m going to go talk to this guy. The last thing I need is my aunts coming back to a raccoon infestation after they trusted me to take care of this place.”

The wolf shifters laugh like I said something funny, but I don’t want to ask and seem even less cool by not getting the joke.

I head out the front of the bodega, waving to the cute human woman, Gwen, as she’s opening up the game shop across the street. I keep wanting to go over and talk to her for longer than a passing hello, but I chicken out every time because I’m worried I don’t have enough nerdy knowledge to keep up with someone who runs a gaming shop.

Right now, talking to Gwen sounds a lot less scary than going into the weird dude’s thrift shop, but I resist the urge to stall, making a beeline for the entrance to Trash to Treasure.

The front of the shop has a large display window, and every week there’s a new, strange tableau that probably should’ve already clued me in to the eccentricity of its owner. This week’s display has a headless mannequin in a hot pink and orange jumpsuit lying on the floor next to an old rocking horse like it was bucked off the side, and another mannequin in a flowing black dress and hooded cloak looming over them like a grim reaper. All while a disco ball rotates above, scattering shimmering light across the bizarre scene.

I step in through the frosted glass door, and a bell rattles as it shuts behind me, announcing my arrival. It’s a good thing, because this place is so packed that Idoubt anyone could see me enter if they’re toward the back of the shop.

I stand next to the door, frozen in place as I take in the chaotic array of clothing racks, furniture, knickknacks, and more. There’s barely room to move through the cramped aisles, if you can even call the spaces between the overstuffed racks and shelves that. I hug my arms to my sides, careful not to knock into anything with my hips as I press further into the store.

“Hello?” I call out, not really expecting a reply.

A moment later, a well-dressed human woman with cropped dark hair peeks from behind a huge stack of what looks like old magazines and comic books. I think her name is Sydney, and she’s mated to that hot satyr farmer, but she’s intimidatingly pretty so I haven’t worked up the nerve to introduce myself when I’ve seen her in passing.

“Are you looking for Jake?” she asks.

Seeing the possibility of making a potential new friend flash before my eyes, I smile broadly. “Hi! Uh, yeah, I am. You’re Sydney, right? I’m Hayley! I’m new in town. It’s so cool to meet you. There aren’t many humans in Hallow’s Cove, so I’ve noticed you around. I’m not like, watching you or anything, just uh, saw you…” I laugh nervously as I trail off, wishing I’d stopped talking after saying my name.

She nods, though I catch a slight flicker of her placid expression at my bubbly, weird demeanor. Crap, I’m coming on way too strong. This is why I’m bad at making friends. I have no chill.

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