Page 5 of Every Broken Promise
And that right there was the root of my problem. Why, after years, does everything still hurt? I fell in love with my best friend while he had put me strictly in the friend zone.
TWO
It should beillegal to sleep in twin-size beds after college. My limbs were all stiff and in need of some good stretching. Despite all of that, I knew I was lucky. My room was untouched, a time capsule waiting for me to come back for time to restart.
No matter how many times I bitched and moaned to my parents that I wouldn’t come back or tried to convince them to move away, deep down, we all knew this would always be home.
As I lay in bed, I wondered if all my favorite spots were still the same or if the years had changed them, making them just memories. My first stop would be the bakery. Hopefully, in the years I had been gone, someone learned how to make a decent cup of coffee around here.
I could hear some rustling outside, and I knew one of my parents was already up and ready for work.
It was an understatement to say they had been excited when I showed up. My grand plan had been for me to show up with my car in tow and be all like,voilà, I’m back.
But then being dropped off by Tyler Kane was like some sort of personal attack on my being.
My parents—bless their hearts—thought this meant the end of our feud. For some insane fucking reason, they still adored Ty.My father had squeezed the living daylights out of me, kissed my temple, and then said, “I’m glad you and Ty worked it out, June bug.”
Oh, the betrayal.
I guess it was my fault for never telling my parents exactly why I was pissed at Ty. Then again, it was embarrassing to admit aloud I had fallen in love with my best friend when he only ever saw me as a friend. People would say I was overreacting because he didn’t feel the same way I did about him, and I’d rather not deal with their pity.
After washing my face, I searched for whichever parent was home. My dad did electrical work, so his pay was always good, and my mom liked to keep busy, so she had a job at the factory a few towns over. Our house was now paid for, and although we didn’t have many luxuries, I never went without the essentials.
Because of my education, my parents weren’t rolling in dough. I owed them everything. And I loved the fact that they never said anything about my journalism degree. They didn’t try to get me to do something more practical. They just wanted me to be happy—the perks of being an only child.
Finding a job right out of college was basically trying to find a fucking unicorn. I didn’t have any connections or experience, so jobs never called me back. Now that I wasn’t living on a school plan, my expenses started to pile up, and my little part-time job waitressing no longer cut it.
It was on a whim—really.
The Willow Grove Heraldwas not my dream job, and I applied out of desperation more than anything. Imagine my surprise when they called back for an interview. I didn’t let myself think on it much, or else I would have been too much of a chickenshit to come back to a town where at one point, everyone hated me.
Okay, everyone was a bit of a stretch—but everyone in my graduating class was pretty spot-on.
“Are you up, sweetheart?”
“Yes, Mom,” I replied.
She had her lunch bag already in hand while she held on to a tumbler in the other.
“I got to run. There are some leftovers in the fridge. Ty said to give him a call so he can pick you up. Love you, sweetheart.”
My mom was in a rush so she didn’t see the stank face I made when she mentioned Ty-enemy.
I had nothing against my mother’s cooking, but I missed going to the bakery. The idea of walking into town did not appeal to me at all—but if I did that, I could get myself a slice of cake and a pastry.
Fuck it.
If I was back sooner rather than later, people would hear about it. I’m sure my mom and dad would start telling people I had come back home. It was time to grab the bull by the horns.
One didn’t go into journalism without being prepared to step on a few toes.
The only problem so far was that my wardrobe was very limited. My weekend bag only contained a pair of jeans, a blouse, and undergarments in case I had to stay overnight in a hotel.
Luckily, my car decided to quit on me once we got into town.
If I had the extra money, I would hit it with a bat. How dare ol’ Bertha leave me at Tyler’s mercy? She couldn’t have waited to have its little tantrum down the street from my house?
Deciding to focus on cake and pastries, I grabbed my pair of flared jeans and my black long-sleeve blouse. At least I had the decency to bring my most flattering pair of jeans with me. They made my ass look phenomenal.
