Page 15 of The Even Odder Couple

ChapterThree

TESS

He said yes. Well, actually, he saidlet’s do it.And those words—coming from Spencer—make me blush on the outside, while the inside of me squirms. I don’t like feeling squirmy. “Can youpleaseput your shirt on now?”

“Oh, right.” He scrambles to reach behind his back and slip his T-shirt out of his pocket. It’s bright red. The approximate color of my cheeks now. “My apologies,” he says.

“It’s fine,” I tell him, but it’s kind of not. I touched him. I touchedSpencer.And it felt a little like touching marble. Except warm. Warm and chiseled. Warm and chiseled and smooth. And—

What is even happening? He’s… SPENCER!

He unfurls the shirt, snapping the red fabric like he’s a bullfighter, which I guess makes me the bull. Still, I’d rather not think of Spencer as a dashing matador. And I don’t want to be the horned bovine ready to chase him either.

First of all, I can’t take all his perfectionist tendencies. He’d probably tell me I was chasing him wrong. Then there’s the fact that I decided a long time ago never to hook my star to any man in general. And now, I’ve got a newfound reason for keeping my distance fromthisman, specifically.

The future of camp hangs in the balance.

I promised Mrs. Lockhart that—in the case of Spencer and me—opposites repel, and I’ll do whatever it takes to prove to her that it’s true. My job is on the line. Along with a great summer for all those kids. Not to mention Spencer’s down payment for a house. As long as Sunny Camp still happens, I won’t have to tell my family I’m switching jobs.

Again.

So it’s a good thing Spencer isn’t interested in anything more than being my coworker either.

Never has been. Never will be.

When I give Mrs. Lockhart the good news, she’s absolutely thrilled. So thrilled, in fact, I’m almost surprised she was so quick to call it quits on the camp in the first place. But I’m in no position to ask her why she changed her mind, and I don’t want to give her any ammunition or reasons to backtrack.

Instead, I invite Jill to follow me home for a late lunch on my back porch.

Correction.Nash’sback porch.

I order us a pepperoni deep dish before we even leave the car wash, because I’ve worked up quite an appetite. And if I have to start tossing out empty pizza boxes on a regular basis, I might as well make the trip to the recycler worth my time.

On the drive, I roll the windows down and let the wind blow the topknot out of my hair. Using the steering wheel as a drum, and my pointer fingers as sticks, I sing along at the top of my lungs to Taylor Swift’s “We Are Never Getting Back Together.”I also congratulate myself on never letting anyone break up with me in the first place.

Instead of taking the slow route through town, with all the pesky speed limits and stop signs, I turn off onto Sweet Water Way and cruise along the river. The tree-lined road is deserted right now, and afternoon sunlight winks through the leaves. I love this drive. I love the farmhouse at the end of it. I might be a bit on the cluttered side, but that’s only because I truly live there.

I’ve made it my home. Even though it’s not.

Nash had just finished remodeling the place before he moved. Clean white paint, thick wood moldings, fresh stonework. New appliances. But not everything’s brand new. The wildflowers and trees surrounding the property might as well have been there forever. There’s a swing in the biggest tree between the house and the river. At night, I sit on the porch, listening to the frogs croak. The space feels sacred somehow. Peaceful and sweet. I don’t want to lose it.

But I don’t have a choice.

So I yank up the volume and sing even louder.

One problem at a time, Tess.

Jill and I arrive at the house just as the Mario’s delivery guy drives up, which is excellent timing. The real estate agent has already come and gone with his clients, leaving his card on the kitchen counter. Actually he left six cards, which is not excellent. At all. I don’t needextrareminders that I have to be out of this place soon.

Shoving the cards aside, I grab two plates for our pizza and pour Jill and me two giant tumblers of iced tea. Then we both head out to the back porch and collapse into matching Adirondack chairs. I’m still sweating, but at least there’s a nice breeze coming off the river.

Jill settles back in her chair and takes a giant bite of pizza. Cheese dangles down her chin, but she leaves it there. This is one of the many reasons why we’re friends.

“You know you can tell me,” she mumbles over a mouthful of mozzarella.

I wait for her to swallow. “Tell you what?”

“That you’ve got a thing for Spencer.”

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