“I’m going to a friend’s house…” I scratched my head. “She’s letting me stay here a little while. Things got rough for me back home, so I came out here, and then, whoops, things almost got even rougher,” I said, gesturing to the tree that had nearly performed a swan song for my trusty old Camry. “And then I slapped you in the face, too. I am really sorry about that.”
“Girls love a sexy scar. Who’s your friend?”
Oh, wow. I knew Daniela had said there was a big gay population in Paxton Ridge—they had a lesbian mayor who’d been making a big deal out of Pride celebrations for decades, and it had apparently turned into a thing—but I hadn’t expected to be greeted at the gates by a woman in flannel hoping to impress girls with a scar. I mean… I hoped it didn’t scar. Sexy or no, I’d feel bad. “Daniela Holman,” I said. “She lives in—”
“Oh,” she said, and I didn’t miss the way her face fell. My stomach tightened. “Yeah, I know her. Her house isn’t far.”
“Oh, uh…” I laughed nervously. “Small towns, huh? Everyone really does know each other.”
She gave me a stony smile. “Grab your things, then.”
Right. She wasn’t feeling the joke. I kept my head down, taking my luggage from the back, two big rolling suitcases and a backpack, and I followed the woman around to the edge of the tree, where there was plenty of space to duck under the broken base and head for a forest-green Jeep that was parked at the side with its hazard lights on. She threw open the back, and she helped me haul in the luggage, squeezing it into where things were already cluttered in her car, and I waited until we were sitting in the front together before I gave into the urge to apologize.
“Sorry for all the trouble,” I said. “Thanks for taking me.”
“No problem,” she said coolly. “So, you have a name, or should I just call you Daniela’s friend?
“Oh, god, I didn’t even think about that. First I’m slapping you and then I’m being rude. My name’s Alyssa. Alyssa Taylor. I’m from Boston, but, you know, things happened, I had to get out—I’ve been friends with Daniela online for years, back before she even lived in Paxton Ridge.” Oh, Jesus, I was digging deeper. I shouldn’t have mentioned Daniela. Apparently there were issues there—her expression tightened more when I brought her up again, and I tried to smile wider and be cheerful enough tobalance it out, but I think I was making it worse. “Well, I’m just here to try figuring things out. Sorting out my life. She offered for me to stay here a while and sort things out. Sorry, er… what’s your name?”
“Jade.” She turned her keys in the ignition. “Buckle up.”
“Right. I can do that.” And shut up, was the next, unspoken, request. I sat ramrod straight, buckled my seatbelt, and kept my hands folded in my lap as Jade started the car, and gentle guitar strumming played from the radio—some kind of indie folk pop. She turned it down.
“Should I put on Taylor Swift?”
“No, this is good. I mean, you can listen to whatever you like. I’m the one imposing on you. I’m not going to start assailing you with trashy pop music,” I laughed. “I mean, can you imagine? A girl drives around like a maniac, slaps you in the face, takes your car, and starts blasting music you hate and talking about things you don’t want to talk about.” Jesus, why was I even mentioning that? Talking about it explicitly was going to make things worse. Jade didn’t look at me—just turned off the music, hit the eject button, and she took out a CD and opened the center compartment. She had a whole collection of CDs inside, in neat binder sheets, and she took out another one I recognized.
“Taylor’s not half-bad,” she said. “But I’m more into Evermore.”
“Oh, cool. Yeah, I’m… I’m down. That’s a good one.”
“Something we can agree on, then.” She put the CD in, and it whirred to life. I laughed nervously.
“Well, we can also agree on that it’s bad to drive your car into a tree.”
She turned and looked deadpan at me, and I felt like dying. I needed to shut up.“Two things we agree on,” she said, finally, and I nodded quickly.
“Sorry, I’ll… I’ll be quiet. Your car smells really nice, by the way.”
“Thanks.” She turned back to the road, and I silently kicked myself for the rest of the drive.
Fresh start, new town, new state, and a new me, and I was pissing off the first person I talked to. Maybe I was the problem.
Oh well. I wasn’t staying here. Anyone I pissed off would be in the past eventually.
Chapter 2
Alyssa
Daniela was taller in person. I did a full double take when she opened the door, and if she hadn’t been wearing her signature plaid blazer, I probably would have wondered if it was her or a family member.
“Alyssa,” she squealed, and she stepped out onto the porch to pull me into a hug. “Oh, my god, you’re here!”
“I’m here! I can’t breathe right now, but I’m here,” I gasped, squished into her collar as I hugged her back, and she squeezed me one more time before she stepped back, eyes sparkling, and looked past me, at my luggage and the empty driveway.
“Is this everything? Where’s, er… where’s your car?”
“Yeah, about that,” I said, scratching my head. “It’s kind of a long story…”