Page 34 of Lucas (Life in the Brohouse 7)

I look up at Amy, seeing the concern in her eyes.

“Tony is a lazy fuck. I know you didn’t do anything to that girl.”

Her loyalty makes my heart swell and I force a smile, knowing I need to put on a brave face if I’m going to get through the next two hours of work. “Thanks.”

“Who is that bitch, anyway? An old girlfriend?”

Sure, we’ll go with that. “Yeah,” I say softly. “Do you think we could have a look at my schedule? Maybe I can change my it around?”

Amy helps me up and guides me towards the counter, where we keep the weekly work schedule. The best way to deal with this is to handle one problem at a time. As I look over the schedule, I make a promise to myself to call Dr. Forrester as soon as work ends, and to talk with her until I get home. I’m not going to drink. I’m not going to let Millie ruin my hopes and dreams.

Chapter 13

LUCAS

Springbreakhasbegun,yet the air in Boulder is still cold. Even in Aurora, the ground was covered in frost with flurries fluttering down around us as we got onto the bus. This day has felt like years. It took us about five hours to get to Boulder due to traffic. Apparently, everyone wanted to get out of Aurora at the same time. Keeping my eyes open hurts, but there’s no time to take a nap. We arrived in Boulder around two and then Rachel swept me into site seeing as soon as we were done dropping off our bags at the hotel.

Not like there’s really much to see in Boulder. It’s not like New York. There aren’t any high rises or skyscrapers. The town is pretty with trees lining each of the houses, already sprouting green despite the cold. Lights circle around their branches, twinkling back at us as we walk down the sidewalk. It looks magical, romantic even, yet I can quite get myself in a romantic mood.

My application for the Open Mic was accepted. I received the acceptance letter about three weeks ago. I couldn’t believe it. I had to reread the letter four times before I got it into my thick head that someone was actually interested in hearing my work. Even now, being here, walking to the bar where I am going to perform, seems like a dream. I keep waiting to open my eyes and discover myself lying in bed. Still hasn’t happened. I keep poking myself in the thigh as walk. I can’t quite pinch myself, so poking will have to do. Yet, this isn’t a dream and my eyes are wide open.

Which brings me to the check Lori sent in the mail. While I’m living one dream, there is still the guilt to contend with. I haven’t deposited the check yet and the sum is huge. Giant. Part of me wants to take the cash out and swim in it. Okay, it’s not in the millions. Not even in the hundreds of thousands, but it’s enough to live on for the next year. It’s enough to quit my job over. I keep telling myself to deposit it into the bank. I’ve gone many times, hovering outside its doors, urging myself to go in. My feet have always remained rooted to the ground. My guilt holds me, fastening tight around me. I keep thinking of Mom’s face, the betrayal in her eyes, the quivering of her lips as she hears the news. And then there’s Dad. I can see him scowling at me, hear him yelling at me, telling me he wants nothing to do with me ever again.

Is that what I want?

I thought I didn’t care, but I don’t know anymore—not when Mom is trying her best to make things work. They’re supposed to come rafting in April. I’ll make up my mind then, hopefully. I need to send Lori the documents. I haven’t even started working. It’s like with the bank; every time I go to work, my hands hover above the keyboard, frozen and refusing to move.

“You okay?” Rachel asks, her hands clinging to me.

My focus shifts to her and I feel a smile coming over me. Her face is flushed as she gazes up at me. The wind whips her hair around. She looks absolutely beautiful and with that tender smile I feel my worries melting away. I finally have Rachel all to myself. I chuckle softly, recalling how flabbergasted Seth was when he realized we weren’t spending Spring Break together. He even tried tagging along, until Alex, thankfully, stepped in and reminded him of the Spring training they needed to do to prepare for the Olympics camp they are applying to. I’ll have to remind myself to send Alex a fruit basket, or some chocolate in thanks. He’s always been a good wingman, unlike Seth.

“Yeah,” I say while pulling Rachel closer to me.

She giggles leaning into my touch. “Nervous?”

“Never.”

As soon as that one word leaves my lips, I see the bar’s neon yellow lights blinking at us. My step stalls and my smile is immediately swallowed up as my heart slams in my throat as if it’s about to crawl out of my mouth and leave me stranded on the sidewalk. The bar, Lulu’s Lemons, stares back at me, a large lemon hovering near the bright yellow letters. People hover outside the bar, puffing on vapes. It’s your typical hipster bar with large black windows and red brick. Everyone is dressed like hobos and wearing black.

I look down at my own attire, seeing that I am way overdressed for this type of thing. I’m wearing a navy-blue suit and a button down under my black coat. It’s the last of my nice clothes, since Dad pretty much threw out all of my clothes in New York. I kept this on campus just in case I went to any interviews for internships or jobs. I think this is the second time wearing it. It fits well. I look nice, but I will definitely stick out as a sore thumb in a place like this.

Rachel is dressed perfectly. Not that she dresses like she’s homeless. She tends to wear a lot of black, which makes it easy for her to blend into any event. I kinda wish I asked for her advice before we left, or I could have looked at the venue at the very least.

“Maybe I should go back and change,” I say, beginning to abort mission.

Rachel catches my hand and, with a strength I had no idea she possessed, pulls me close to her and guides me towards the door. “It’ll be fine.”

“I-I don’t think—”

“We’ll get a beer in you. That should settle your nerves. You don’t want to be late, do you?”

She has a point. I follow her inside, keeping my head down as I pass the locals on my way inside the bar. The place is dead, which makes my insides twist even more. I thought this was supposed to be a big deal, but the tables are seemingly empty and there’s only one girl waiting at the bar, flirting with the bartender.

Where is everyone?

“Hello!” Rachel says sweetly as the bartender swaggers towards her.

His dark gaze looks her up and down while his teeth play with his lip ring. He’s wearing a beanie with a metal band shirt—one I’ve never heard the name of. Not that I listen to metal music.

---