Page 33 of Things We Left Behind
“I’d say thanks, but I didn’t really have anything to do with it.”
“Mine sucks,” he said, jerking his chin in the direction of the small, beige two-story next door. I noticed that Lucian’s father still hadn’t returned.
“Maybe you would think it was nicer if you mowed the lawn?” I suggested helpfully.
He looked down at me, amused again. “I doubt that would make things better.”
I crossed my arms over my chest to ward off the chill. “You never know. Sometimes making things nice on the outside makes them better all the way through.”
It was like when I woke up early enough to slap on some mascara and lipstick before school. A bold lip and long lashes made me feel like a prettier, more put-together version of myself.
“We’ll see,” he said. “Thanks for dinner. I’ve gotta get back and do my own homework.”
He backed away.
Desperate for just another minute with him, my mind raced for something to say. “Hey! I hate to be that girl, but you still haven’t apologized for the rock,” I pointed out.
He flashed that little half smile, one foot on the porch, one foot on the top step. “Guess I’ll have to do that next time.”
Next time.
My stomach did the nervous swoopy thing again.
“I’ll see you around,” he said.
“Yeah. See you,” I said breathlessly. I stood there like an idiot and watched him amble down the walk before cutting across the driveway to his yard.
“Next time,” I whispered.
I went to bed that night with a smile on my face, Ruark and Shanna temporarily forgotten.
The next morning when I left for school, I couldn’t help but notice that Lucian’s dad’s truck still wasn’t in the driveway. But the front lawn had been mowed.
6
Breakfast Ambush
Sloane
Thank you, Lou,” I mumbled with the hair tie in my teeth.
Lou Witt, Naomi’s dad, held the diner door for me as my hands were full trying to tame my hair into the semblance of a knot on top of my head.
“Looking a little frazzled this morning,” noted his wife, Amanda, the new part-time counselor for the school district.
I glanced down at my oversize sweatshirt with its fresh coffee stains. Stains achieved after dumping half a mug down my front when Mom had texted to remind me I was meeting her for breakfast.
My leggings had a hole in one knee, and I’d forgotten to change out of my slippers.
Crap.
“One of those days,” I said, securing my bun.
Actually, it was more like weeks.
“That’s to be expected, sweetie,” Amanda assured me with a sympathetic arm squeeze. “Don’t forget to take care of yourself.”
“I won’t,” I promised before waving the Witts off and heading inside. I spotted my mother in one of the back booths and hurried toward her. “Sorry I’m late. Naomi called. She and Eric finally found the missing garter snake from the petting zoo Wednesday night. He was in the window wrapped around a pothos plant—”
