The cute guy is much more fun to think about. Tall and lean. Dark blond hair trimmed neatly. Clean white shirt and crisp pants. Potentially amazing biceps—hard to know in his long sleeves, but I’m sure they’re way better than a certain someone else who I’m not thinking about.
Why am I still thinking about him?
Stepping farther into the shade, I still feel sweat trail down my spine. I’m already nervous about facing the desert. Thoughts of Anthony are not helping, but they keep creeping into my head, and I can’t seem to turn them off. It was meant to be a good-bye kiss. Instead, it was like saying Hello! to the memory of all the other kisses we had in early spring. The laughs. The fun. I thought I’d crushed my crush for good, but with one kiss Anthony proved me wrong.
I really hate to be wrong.
I need a distraction to clear my head. This guy—whoever he is—is just what I need.
Then he glances my way, and I get my first clear view of his face.
“Grant?” My eyes widen. “Grant Ellison. It is you!” I step out of the shade to meet him.
“Maya Senn,” he says with a grin.
“What are you doing here?”
“Volunteering like you.” His grin is contagious. I wonder if I should hug him. Our parents are best friends, and when we were all younger, we spent a lot of time together. There are embarrassing pictures of Grant and me “getting married” on the Ellison stairs when we were both six. Ethan was the minister. It became a joke with all the parents that we should marry officially to join the families. That ended when Grant got serious with his girlfriend, Katherine, freshman year. Still, I’ve gotten updates about Grant over the years and, now that I think about it, a lot more lately.
“Did we tell you Grant is also his school’s valedictorian?”
“Did you know Grant has four offers to the Ivys? He’s leaning toward California—just like you.”
“Isn’t it wonderful that Grant is interested in sustainability, too?”
He makes the hugging decision by initiating one. I end up with my cheek pressed against the strap of his pack, but he smells very nice. Not at all like dirt and septic tank, which is what it smells like near the bathrooms.
I pull back, grinning again. “You’re the surprise.”
“Your parents didn’t tell you?”
“No. And Ethan knew, too.”
“Yeah, we exchanged a few texts.” He pulls a cap with a wide brim from his back pocket and puts it on. “Our moms were talking, and I heard about the trail project. It sounded pretty cool. Figured why not?”
“But it’s such a long drive.”
“Not bad. Twenty minutes. My dad bought me a new electric car for graduation so no gas, no pollution.”
Be still, my environmentally conscious heart.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” I say again. Ever since that kiss with a certain someone I’m not thinking about, it’s felt like the earth has shifted off its axis. Like I was off-balance. But seeing Grant standing here—solid, grounded Grant—I feel more grounded, too.
“Good surprise?” he asks.
“A most excellent one.”
His smile warms me. “So I hear you’re going to Pomona College in the fall?”
I nod. “You chose UCLA. And what about Katherine?”
Katherine’s family runs in the same circles, so I’ve seen them together more than a few times in the past four years they’ve been dating.
“Yeah, well.” The smile vanishes, and he rubs the back of his neck. “We broke it off two weeks ago.”
“You and Katherine?” I can’t help sounding shocked. They’ve always seemed so perfect.
“She’s going to college back east. I’ll be on the west coast.”
“Wow. That must be—”
“Hey,” a voice interrupts. “Are you with Community Cares?”
We both turn as a girl strides up. Not a girl, but lady doesn’t feel right, either. She’s somewhere in her late twenties, I guess. About my height but muscular and looking every inch at home out here. I hope she’s with our group. I won’t be nearly as nervous if she’s leading. She’s wearing a bandanna over her hair, but there are brown curls showing around the neck where another bandanna is tied. “I’m Amber Gray, your project director.”
Yes!
Grant holds out a hand. “I’m Grant. This is Mai.”
“I know Mai from pictures on the website.” As if she can tell what I’m about to say, she adds, “Don’t worry. I won’t make a big deal out of your parents being the founders of CC. No one else has to know.”
“Thanks.” I exchange a smile with Grant. His mom is a state representative. We’ve talked before about how hard it can be when you’re treated different because of who your parents are.
Grant and Katherine broke up.
My brain repeats that fact. It’s weird to think of him as single. Yes, he’s kind of perfect, but I’ve never thought of him as dating material because he was so taken.
But he’s not anymore.
Inwardly, I smile. If I’m going to have inappropriate and lustful thoughts about someone, it can be Grant. Grant makes sense. I let out a breath. I feel better already.
“Glad to have you both,” Amber says. “Two other volunteers are waiting over there.” I follow the direction of her pointed finger, and a guy and a girl, about my age, are sitting on a picnic bench, holding hands. “We’re waiting for one more. A late sign-up.” She checks her watch then shades her eyes and turns back to the parking lot. “Oh, good. There he is.”
I turn as a figure jogs toward us. Long hair. Ball cap. Wrinkled white tee. Biceps. Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no.
Anthony Adams.
Just like that, the earth tips again.
Chapter Five
Mai
“Let’s start with introductions,” Amber says.
She’s gathered us around a picnic table under the shade structure. Grant is beside me, and the couple is sitting across from us. Amber is sitting at the far end. Anthony is not sitting. He’s leaning. He’s not even dressed right in frayed jeans that hug his legs and black sneakers. His arms are bare even though the website specifically said long sleeves. Hair curls from beneath a baseball cap nearly reaching the neck of his tee. The big, junky cuff he never takes off is glinting against his wrist. There is nothing I should find attractive about any of that, so why am I so completely attracted?