I guess Wilde was right. Humans can do it without any problem. I was making driving a much harder thing than I needed to. Even though he was a total asshole about it, I’m sort of grateful he just forced me to give it a go. Now that I’ve broken the seal on it, I’m not so scared or intimidated by it.
Lincoln and Lauren’s house is a stunning mansion nestled into a steep mountain bank with wall-to-wall windows that look out over the city. I gape as we drive up. It has a three-car garage with doors that automatically open as he pulls in.
“What does your dad do?” I ask.
“He was an investment broker,” Lincoln says. “I mean, he still is, but from home now instead of the Manhattan office.”
“You’re from New York?”
“Yep.”
“No accent, though.”
He grins. “What kind of accent did you think I’d have?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. East coast.”
“Do you think you have an accent?”
“Of course not.” I smile.
Their dad isn’t around to greet us–I assume he’s in his office working.
There are three guitars standing on end beside an amp in the living room. One acoustic, one electric, and one bass. “Who plays guitar?” I ask.
“I do,” Lincoln says casually. “Lauren plays piano.” He lifts his chin toward the grand piano in the corner.
“Cool.”
Lincoln and I sit at the dining room table, which is positioned in front of giant sliding glass doors that lead out to a covered deck on the side of the house. The studying takes half an hour. Lincoln’s a good teacher, and it suddenly all makes sense. I think I just missed a few concepts at the beginning of the year because my mind was occupied with my mom’s pregnancy dilemma and then sudden marriage, followed by our change of homes.
My stomach growls loudly as we finish. “Oops. For some reason, I can’t seem to eat enough food lately.”
“Sorry, I should have offered you a snack.” Lincoln gets up and walks to a pantry packed with fancy gourmet and European-looking foods. “Help yourself. Protein bar, maybe?” He pulls a couple out of a box, hands me one, and rips one open for himself. It’s chocolate and caramel and has 20 grams of protein. I have to work not to shove the whole thing in my mouth at once.
“I was like that when I hit my growth spurt. I’d get so hangry by the time school was over, we’d have to stop immediately for a meal. Not just a snack–a full meal. Like a pre-dinner.” He chuckles.
“Sadly, I don’t think I’ll be having a growth spurt. I’ve always been small. But at least the extra calories don’t seem to be going to my waist.”
We eat our protein bars and take fancy bottled blood orange sodas out to the deck where we stand at the deck railing and look down at Wolf Ridge. Lauren joins us.
“I can’t wait to get out of this town,” I mutter.
“Same,” Lauren says. “I’ve been to snobby schools, but this one’s just plain weird. Redneck snobby or something. No offense.”
“None taken.”
“What’s with that guy Abe?”
I look over. “Eh. He’s the alpha-hole extraordinaire. Captain of the football team. Pretty much runs the school. His dad is a doctor in town. His brother Austin graduated a couple of years ago. He’s actually not that bad. He was always class president. Definitely more friendly than Abe.”
“He’s my lab partner in chemistry,” Lauren says. “He’s horrible.”
“Agreed. Guys like him are one of the perils of a small town. They think they’re practically gods here.”
“The thing that’s weird is that Wolf Ridge functions like a small town. I mean, isn’t it just a suburb of Scottsdale?”
“Mmm.” I proceed with caution. I can’t exactly explain that most everyone who lives here is a different species. “Well, Wolf Ridge was actually here long before Scottsdale or Cave Hills. It was settled around when Arizona became a U.S. territory. The mountains served to keep it separated from the suburban sprawl down there, and the brewery provided the economic industry.”