Page 21 of Forever & Always You
Austin presses his hands to his hips, looking extra serious in his suit pants and shirt, despite the rolled-up sleeves and undone top buttons. “Neither,” he says. “Why don’t you stay with me?”
My laugh echoes down the street, then gradually fades away. “Oh, you’re serious.”
“I have spare rooms,” he says.
“Rooms?Like, plural?”
“Houses have rooms.”
“House?You bought a freaking house?”
The crunch of car tires draws our focus as Zach pulls up outside the bar. He drops his window and leans out.
“Everything okay?” he asks me, casting a cynical glance toward Austin. It’s barely been thirty minutes since he dropped me off, so clearly drinks with Austin isn’t going well.
“All good. Austin’s just boring company,” I say, flashing Austin a smirk as I make for Zach’s car. If he wants to be mean to me, I’ll be equally mean to him. Just no hitting each other where it hurts.
I climb into the passenger seat and then stretch over my brother, much to his irritation, to look out his window at Austin. “Goodnight, corporate loser.”
Austin grins. “Goodnight, unemployed loser.”
Zach shoves me off him and closes his window in Austin’s face without a second of hesitation. As he pulls away from the bar, I look back over my shoulder through the rear window, watching as Austin shrinks away.
“What was that about?” Zach asks.
“When I figure it out, I’ll let you know.”
7
The throbbing headache I wake up with is deserved. Only an idiot drinks with a concussion, and now I’ve likely delayed my healing and will be left with permanent brain damage.
As I’m raiding the kitchen cabinets for some Tylenol, I sense Mom’s presence.
“It’s pain meds, isn’t it?” she asks shakily. “You’re addicted to prescription pain meds.”
“Yes, Mom. I’m a Tylenol addict,” I say, closing the cabinet door to reveal her behind it. I sarcastically wave the small container of Tylenol in the air. “I mean, seriously? You don’t evenhaveprescription pain meds in here.”
“That doesn’t mean you aren’t searching for some,” she says stubbornly, so convinced of her delusional assumptions.
“Okay, I’m not having this conversationagain.” I walk straight past her and fill a glass of water at the faucet, tossing back two pills and praying they’ll subdue this killer headache. “You’ll be glad to know I’m about to head home.”
“Your apartment is fixed?”
“Yes,” I lie, and before she can launch into further investigation on my plans career-wise, I add, “Thanks so much for letting me stay here. I’ll come back again for Thanksgiving.”
Mom chews her lip thoughtfully. “But Thanksgiving is four months away.”
“I know!” I pass her the Tylenol container with a sardonically sweet smile and hug her with the least amount of physical contact possible. “Bye, Mom.”
I dash upstairs to my room, exchange friendly hellos with the maid I bump into in the hall, and throw together the last of my stuff. I didn’t bring much in the first place, so I’m on my way back down the stairs with my cute little suitcase in two minutes flat. Zach has already cleared out for the day bright and early, presumably to head back to his own house to see if Claire will let him through the door yet, but I’ll text him later to say my goodbye. He always comes home for Thanksgiving, too.
“Drive safe!” Mom calls just as I’m sneaking out the front door.
It’s a beautiful Saturday, as the days so often are on the coast in the summertime, so I hop into my car, throw on some sunglasses and hook up a podcast for the two-hour drive home to Durham. Thankfully, I still have half a tank of gas, and all my tires are inflated and unclamped. The journey should be smooth sailing with no hiccups, so I settle into my podcast and back out of the drive.
Instead of my usual gossipy, mind-numbing podcasts that I like to indulge in, I’ve chosen something more appropriate—a podcast detailing the specifics on how to manifest your perfect life.
Now, I’m not really a believer in the whole “if you channel manifestations into the world with positive energy, the universe will listen” thing, because quite frankly, thathasto be bullshit. But a lot can be said for changing your way of thinking. A positive mind creates positive actions, and I could really do with my concussed, sad little brain being more hopeful going forward.
