Page 75 of When Fate Breaks
I slip my cell phone into the pocket of my pajama shorts, waving goodbye to Carmen as I head back in my room to get ready for class and finish packing my weekend bag so that I can head to Ramer straight after my 9 a.m. lets out.
Leah’s been taking classes at Montgomery State and, since campus is only a half hour from Ramer, she still lives with her parents in our hometown for the time being and makes the commute.
Even though Leah is right that it’s not the most convenient time for me to head back to Ramer, having only had one week of classes so far, I wouldn’t miss my best friend’s birthday for the world. And besides, my parents (and Steph, though her newly independent fourteen year old self would never admit it) are always thrilled to have me back home any chance they can get. Dad even insisted he’d drop me off at Leah’s house tonight and that he would leave the hardware store to Ronnie over lunch tomorrow so he could pick me up at noon and we could grab a bite.
I pull my phone from my pocket, seeing a new message.
Leah: I’ll bring the beer. You bring the cheese.
My phone vibrates again in my hand.
Leah: Because you’re a rat.
Me: I got it, Leah. Thanks.
I chuckle, setting the phone down on top of my dresser and getting to work.
* * *
Leah has just takenher second dive on the mechanical bull as my phone starts to buzz in my back pocket.
I ignore it at first, helping Leah up and taking another sip of my beer. That fake ID Madeline talked me into getting freshman year has really come in handy. Even though it’s really just a formality here at Ramer’s most popular (and basically only) bar, Rodeo Billy’s, considering almost every bartender working here graduated with my high school class and knows I’m definitely not twenty-one.
I barely get Leah’s jeans dusted off before she’s jumping back on to the bull, getting a round of cheers from our high school (andmiddle schoolandelementary school, because they were all the same) friends.
When my phone buzzes for the fourth time in a row, I realize it’s not just a text message coming through. I pull it from my back pocket, squinting at the bright screen in the dim smoky lighting of the bar.
Blake Di Fazio
“What the…?” I mutter to myself. I can count the amount of times Blake has called me in our entire lives on one hand.
“Annie! This is a new record right?” Leah’s voice pierces through my concentration.
I throw her a smile and a thumbs up before I make my way to the back of the bar and step out into the night air, the smell of stale beer and cigarettes hitting my nose. I stroll further into the beer garden, leaning against an empty picnic table as I answer the call, bringing the phone to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Evangeline.” Blake’s husky voice sends a chill down my spine and brings a smile to my face.
“Blake.”
“Eeevaaangeliiine,” Blake repeats, drawling it out this time.
I open my mouth to respond but he cuts me off, continuing.
“Eeevaaan. Van. An– Annie? Huh, I guess that makes sense.”
“Um,” I chuckle. “Have we had a little bit to drink tonight?”
“Just a little,” Blake says, feigning innocence.
“Uh huh.”
“Hey, I’m eighteen years old! An adult. Perfectly allowed to have a drink or two.”
“I think you’re a few years ahead of yourself there, buddy,” I laugh. “But calling you out would make me the biggest hypocrite right now.”
“Ooo you too? You at a big fancy college party? Crashing a frat house?” Blake slurs.
