Page 12 of On My Side
“But there doesn’tneedto be a choice. I’m an adult, and I just didn’t expect to come face to face with my past.”
Piper searches my face. “It’s a small town,” she says, and god, don’t I know it. “You couldn’t hide us forever.”
“I know,” I admit reluctantly.
“He didn’t give me his information, but he mentioned he goes running on the beach most mornings. Like at five a.m.”
I stifle a groan. “I’ll email Ms. Santiago and see if she can give me his information.” There’s no way I’m getting up at five a.m. to accost him about my kid’s piano lessons.
Chapter 5
Ren
Playlist: Doin' Time | Lana Del Ray
In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.
I keep my breath steady as my feet hit the sidewalk, my favorite classical playlist blaring in my ears. I can’t stop thinking about the events of yesterday: helping my sister’s ex try to win her back, finding out it worked, and seeing my childhood crush look at me like I was a threat.
Audrey Price. Or Hinton now, I guess. I hadn’t thought about her in alongtime, but god, she was the love of my young life, and her mere presence distracted me whenever I practiced scales on the piano in our living room.
I wasneverdistracted while practicing scales. My siblings used to make fun of me, saying I could be struck by lightning and not miss a single note. Something about the rote movement and predictability of scales almost put me in a trance, similar to how running makes me feel.
I run the same route every day, at the same time, and so do most people who are awake and out at this time. I pass a group of the tamer moms, on their daily hot girl walk, as they call it,where they talk about whatever spicy romantasy book they’re currently reading. I always wave to Mr. Moody as he walks Scooter, his rambunctious golden retriever puppy. I nod politely at Father Gilligan when I pass him on his rosary walk, and I greet Derek, a waiter at Queenie’s, the diner in town, as he sweeps the outdoor stairs.
I immediately notice when someone I don’t see every day is sitting on the seawall and slow to a stop. I also can’t recognize this person from fifty feet away. As I walk closer, their head moves, and I think they’re looking at me. Around ten feet away, the blurriness caused by not wearing my contacts clears, and I stop in my tracks as recognition sets in.
“Hi, Mr. Q.” Audrey Price…I mean Hinton…is sitting criss-cross applesauce on the seawall, auburn hair piled on top of her head and a star-shaped pimple patch on her chin. She wears round, wireframe glasses, and a Port Haven High School t-shirt with shorts that show me the pale skin of her thighs, and the faint, silver, stretch marks painted across them.
I clear my throat. “Ms. Hinton, hi.” Nailed it.
She uncrosses her legs and gets to her feet, not spilling a drop from either mug in her hands, but her glasses slip just slightly down her nose. “You… um. You can call me Audrey, if you’d like.”
God, she’d scamper away if she could hear how hard my heart is beating. My vital organs have zero chill around pretty women. Or men. But this seems excessive, even for me. “I think it’s more appropriate if I call you Ms. Hinton,” I say. “Or Mrs. Hinton.”
“I’m not married,” she clarifies, and we fall into another awkward silence.
Yesterday had been awkward as shit. I’d been having a great lesson with Piper, quickly learning how to best critique her and give feedback in a way she would respond positively to. She waved to her mom and in walked Audrey, grown-up and fuckingbeautiful. Long legs and bouncy hair and bright smile, and it felt like my world was closing in around me.
Now, Audrey and I stare uncomfortably at each other, both waiting for the other to speak first.
It isn’t going to be me.
Finally, she lifts one of the mugs she’s holding. “I brought you coffee.”
I blink at her in confusion. “Oh. Uh, thanks?”
“It’s cold now.”
We continue to stare at each other.
“This is weird,” I tell her.
“Very,” she agrees, holding out the mug to me. It has a T-Rex holding a grabber tool in each hand, the words “what now bitch” above the image, and dammit. It makes me chuckle.
Her silvery gray eyes brighten. “Funny, right? Mother’s Day gift from Piper this year.”
My heart flutters a smidge. That’s cute as hell. I take the coffee from her, surprised when the mug is still slightly warm, probably from the sun beating down.
