Page 33 of Summer Ever After
This is the north end, where all the upscale houses are, where Jane’s parents' house is. Maybe she still lives with them, like in the apartment above the detached garage.
I glance to the right, checking out the houses beyond the fences and bushes, trying to remember which one belongs to Loretta Lee and Tucker Hayes. I think it’s coming up, but I need to verify with Google to be sure. I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone. It’s a balance of Googling Tucker Hayes’s house and driving. Images pull up, confirming I was right.
It’s this one.
I crane my neck, trying to peer through the white wrought iron fence that lines the front of the property. When I glance back to the road, there’s no time to react. The cart lurches forward straight into the Hayes’s fancy metal mailbox—which I didn’t see because I wasn’t paying attention to driving. The mailbox tips to the ground, but the golf cart doesn’t stop until it’s centered over the pole.
Lights coming down the road blind me. I’m not the hit-and-run type, but I try to push the gas again just to see if Ican escape. It’s no use. The front tire is lifted in the air, spinning and spinning.
My foot eases off the gas as the approaching golf cart slows to a stop at the edge of the Hayes’s driveway.
Jane is sitting in the passenger seat.
That’s just great.
I only make brief eye contact with her when a man steps out of the driver’s side of the cart.
Freaking Beau Palmer.
“Walker?” Jane gasps as she rushes to the crash site. “What are you doing?”
I do the only thing I can think of. I turn on my charm. “Hi, Jane!” I say with a smile. “Is this your house?”
Her brows drop, but it’s Beau who says something next.
“Walker, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I was just looking at my phone and veered off the road.” My hands go up playfully as I chuckle. “Don’t arrest me.”
“You’re bleeding,” Jane says with those same furrowed brows.
“Am I?” My fingers go to the side of my head, where I feel warm blood trickling down. “Probably just a scratch.”
“Come inside, and we’ll get a BandAid or something.” Jane looks at me one last time before shaking her head and walking down the driveway to her house.
I gather my phone and clubs and follow after her and Beau, probably leaving a trail of blood as I go.
Jane
Ninth Grade
Dear Diary,
I will never figure out Walker Collins! He totally flirts with me at school, and I guess I flirt back…okay, I know I flirt back. I’m the worst friend ever. I promised Capri I wouldn’t like him, and if she saw me with him, she’d be so hurt. So, from now on, I’m NOT flirting with Walker. Ever again! I don’t care how fun it is to talk to him. This isn’t something I’m just saying to say. I really mean it. I’m loyal to Capri. Besides, it’s not like Walker likes me. He flirts with every girl in school. I’m SO over it!
Jane
I slamthe kitchen faucet off, shoving a wet paper towel in Walker’s hand.
“Thanks.” He places the towel over the cut on his forehead where it hit the side of the cart during the mailbox crash.
I fold my arms, watching him. “Tell me again why you were infront of my house.”
“I wasn’t in front of your house. I was lost, so I Googled directions and ended up hitting your mailbox.”
“You can’t get lost on an island. Just go around in circles until you find your way.”
He smiles up at me as if he knows his excuse is lame.
