“I haven’t paid it off in a while. I think it’s probably those work clothes you bought in New York.”
“You told me to buy those work clothes. You said ‘go see Anne at Saks, she’ll take care of you’.”
“You can send me smaller monthly payments until it’s paid off. I’m not trying to be a monster.”
“Too late, Dad,” I laugh. “And you know what? You’re not getting a dime from me. We had an agreement.”
“You’re going to ruin your credit,” he warns.
“It’s your account,” I reply. “So I’m pretty sure it will only ruin yours. You are not getting a dime from me.”
“Is that all you can say?” he asks condescendingly.
“No, I can say other things,” I reply. “Here’s one of them: go fuck yourself.”
I hang up and slam my phone against the deck. The glass on the front of it cracks, and I bury my head in my hands and weep. I thought the universe would come to right the wrongs done to me — the shame of the whole Edward thing, the loss of my internship, my parents’ divorce and the ensuing humiliation. Most of all, the fact that James doesn’t want me. But the universe doesn’t give anything. It seems, right now, that all it does is take.
**
That night, miraculously, Brian suggests there are extra shifts available if I’d like to pick them up. I’m still leaving the beach, but until I can go home the money will help.
Toward the end of the night, I stand with Kristy watching her last customer nurse his two-hour-old beer. Matt has been off for over an hour, and sits at the bar waiting for her with decreasing patience.
“Jesus,” he sighs. “He’s never going to leave.”
“I’ve got this,” says James. He changes the channel from baseball to HGTV and mere seconds later, the guy is waving for his check.
When Kristy and Matt finally leave, James turns to me. “Did Brian tell you there are extra shifts available?” It strikes me that he’s trying a little too hard to act nonchalant.
“Yeah, he told me,” I say. “It’s perfect. I’ve had too much time on my hands here.”
“Don’t push yourself too hard. I’ve got money saved up from last summer if you’re ever in a pinch.”
There’s no way this is a coincidence.
“You heard my phone call, didn’t you?” I ask.
He shifts uncomfortably and hesitates, as if he’s trying to decide whether or not to lie. “I didn’t mean to,” he says. “I was lifting weights under the deck.”
“I probably sounded like a spoiled brat.”
“No,” he argues. “Your dad is an asshole, in a hundred ways. He always was. I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed listening to you tell him off.” He grins then. “You’ve got quite a mouth on you, Elle. I never thought I’d hear the kid who could name every single ‘My Little Pony’ character tell her dad to go fuck himself.”
I laugh, a little unwillingly. “Not my finest moment.”
He smiles then, a sweet smile that fills my stomach, that delights me and hurts me in equal measure. “It was one of them.”
Chapter 23
When Ryan texts, there’s maybe a half-second where I consider deleting without reading it.
It’s impossible not to be friends with my ex. Even people who want to hate him can’t quite pull it off. He could steal your car and hit on your underage sibling and you’d still find yourself buying him a beer. He sucks you into his orbit, no matter how hard you resist. And with his looks, he sucks you into other things, things I’d rather avoid.
Which is why I’m conflicted when he texts to say his band is coming to town. God knows I could use a distraction from James and a small reminder that someone still sees me “that way”. But Ryan is a particularly dangerous distraction.
I was standing in the world’s longest line, shifting uncomfortably beneath a pile of books, the first time I met him. Without a word of introduction, he took the books from me, and then told me I needed to come to his show that night. My irritation lasted only the millisecond it took for me to actually look at him — too good-looking and cocky to be a safe bet, but with a disarmingly boyish smile that also made it impossible to tell him no. And any reservations I may have had dissipated when I saw him onstage. He was mesmerizing. His voice, the concentration on his face as he watched his guitar instead of the crowd, as if he wasn’t even aware that we were there. Of course he knew it would have that effect — that’s why he invited me.
When he found me in the crowd, he smiled for the first time all night, pointing me out as he stepped up to the microphone. “Who here thinks she should go out with me?” There was general approval of the idea from the audience. And then he did an acoustic cover of “Use Somebody” by Kings of Leon, and he never looked away from me once.
I’d been single for exactly four days of my freshman year. And I wasn’t single again until it was all over.
Things didn’t necessarily end poorly between us. They just ended sadly, because in a way neither of us was ready for it to be over. I was worried that if I saw him again this summer, I’d be weak. Now it almost seems like a little weakness would be a good thing: I’d rather make a mistake with Ryan than continue to be crushed by James.
I walk into the den, where the guys are collapsed on the couch. James, shirtless and tan, legs spread wide. I have a brief image of all the things I could do to him in that position, and find that I’m actually shaking my head to dispel the thought.
“I have a friend coming into town next weekend,” I announce. “Do you mind if he crashes here?”
James does not look pleased by the question. His brows come together as his jaw sets.
“He?” smirks Max.
“Yes,” I sigh. “He.”
“And is he someone who will be staying in your room, perchance?”
James’s face gets stormier still.
“I don’t care where he sleeps. I don’t even care if you say no. He’s asking me,” I say, holding my phone aloft. “So I’m asking you.”
Max looks at James and then grins even wider. “Sure, he can stay,” he says with slightly too much enthusiasm. “Any friend of Elle’s is a friend of ours, right James?”
James turns his glare toward Max, and then back to me. “He stays on the first floor,” he warns. God his voice is hot when he’s being bossy. It makes my insides completely liquid. “He sets one foot on those stairs and I’m throwing his ass out.”
I roll my eyes. “You know, if you’re trying to preserve your sister’s chastity, I’m pretty sure that ship has sailed.”
Max laughs. “Yeah, James. Stop worrying so much about Ginny.”
James scowls at both of us. “Whatever. First floor or he leaves this house missing parts.”
**
James stops me as I’m leaving work on Friday night. “I’m almost done,” he says. “I’ll give you a ride.” I’ve given up trying to drive to work entirely, as my car is always parked in three-deep at the house.
I glance at my watch.