Page 22 of Landon & Shay: Part One

I headed to the kitchen to put the food into the fridge.

Before Maria dived deep into her cleaning routine, she peeked her head into the kitchen and nodded in my direction. “How’s your heart today?” she asked me, the same question she asked every time she stopped by.

“Still beating.”

“Good.”

If anyone else had asked me an overly dramatic question like that, I would’ve flipped them off, but since it came from Maria, I figured she deserved at least some kind of response. I couldn’t be rude to that woman even if I tried, probably because I knew she’d whoop my butt and toss holy water at me if I ever spoke back to her.

“And yours?” I asked because I cared, which was shocking. I could count on one hand the number of people I cared about, and Maria held a steady spot on that list. I swore, sometimes, she even darted in and out of the number one spot.

She smiled. “Still beating.”

She left and later came to my bedroom, knocking on the door. When she opened it, she had a bra dangling off the end of a broom. “Just a low-key night with Greyson, huh?” She glared.

I laughed. “I guess you could say things got weird after midnight.”

She shook her head and muttered something under her breath—probably a prayer for my soul—before going to finish up her work.

A few hours later, I tossed the dinner into the oven, and Maria set the table for two. Sundays with Maria; it was our ritual. Before we ate, she always took my hand into hers and said a prayer.

My eyes stayed open, but she didn’t care. She always said one didn’t have to close their eyes to receive their blessings.

She talked to me about school, reminded me to not be a dick to people, and gave me advice on just being a good person. I never really said it, but her Sunday dinners meant the world to me. I needed her around, and she was always there. If there was someone you could always count on to show up, it was Maria.

Maria oftentimes went on and on about her family, mostly Shay. For the past few years, I’d tuned out the Shay conversations. I didn’t care to know more about the girl I hated and how happy she was, but now that the bet was going on, I wanted to know as much as I could. I knew I could use the information to get her to fall in love with me.

“Shay is getting ready for the school play, so that’s all that’s been going on in the house. She’s amazing, though. Writing and the performing arts are her gifts to this world.” Maria beamed as she spoke about her granddaughter. “The arts are in her blood. It’s her bread and butter. It was the one good thing her father gave to her—his talent.”

“Acting, huh?” I questioned, taking a bite of the lasagna.

So. Good.

“Yes. She’s amazing. Truly gifted.”

I wanted to know more about Shay, but I knew Maria would get suspicious of me asking too many questions. I knew everything I learned about Shay would help me with the bet we’d made. The more I knew about her, the easier it would be to get her in my bed.

Actor. Writer.

Beautiful, too.

That didn’t matter, but it crossed my mind enough to make note of it.

I collected the small clues Maria gave me about her granddaughter, and I put them in my back pocket. I was certain they’d come in handy down the line.

* * *

Today I was happy.

I figured I should write it down because it seems like a lot of my days are getting darker.

Harder.

I feel my mind slipping into the darkness again. I’m still taking my meds and working hard to keep my head afloat, but I feel it. I feel myself slipping.

I spend more time with my family because there’s something about them that brings me peace.

I’m trying.

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