Page 71 of The Fast Lane

“Everything okay?” Theo asked.

I sat up. “It’s this stupid idea about me running for mayor. Mae’s getting people all excited about it.”

After a long breath in which I considered the many ways I could make Mae’s life miserable (nothing permanent, of course), I texted back.

Me: I AM NOT RUNNING FOR MAYOR.

Mae: Your words say that, but your heart says something different.

Me: Can we change the subject? Please.

Mae: Okay. So, has Theo made his move yet?

Ellie: Please say yes. Tell us EVERYTHING. I want deets.

Me: I hate you both.

Mae: Talk to you tomorrow.

After throwing the phone on the floor, I laid back down, grumbling under my breath about interfering best friends.

But did I still lay there long after I heard the steady rhythm of Theo’s breathing and wonder what it would be like to hold a position as mayor? Yes, I did. It sounded ridiculous when I said it out loud. But in my head, the idea was growing on me. So many things could be done to improve life in Two Harts and not one of them involved an expensive-as-hell football stadium or tearing down the tree our town was built on.

Plus, the idea of making Peter squirm because, for once, he would have an opponent. Oh, that might be the strongest pull of all. It would be the sweetest kind of justice, the perfect revenge.

As quietly as I could, I got up and took my backpack into the bathroom. I pulled out the application and a pen and, before I could overthink it, I filled it out. Then I stared at it for a long time. Was I brave enough to do it?

I put it back in my backpack, still not sure of the answer.

TWENTY-NINE

Note to self:

The road to Hipster-ville starts with one man bun.

I woke somewhere around two in the morning and stumbled into the kitchen for a glass of water. Since I was there, I rooted around in Abe’s refrigerator for a middle-of-the-night snack and hit gold.

Well, ice cream, anyway. There were about five different gallons in the freezer, and I wondered if Abe had bought them all because he wasn’t sure what Hallie liked. I settled on chocolate chip cookie dough. After finding a spoon, I dug in. Bowls were for wimps. Clutching the container to my chest, I wandered the quiet kitchen, lit by a soft light over the sink.

I smiled at a photo of Hallie and Abe hanging on the fridge, obviously taken in the last couple of weeks. Hallie was in his lap, curled against his chest, Abe’s chin resting on her head. It was precious and I was struck by how natural and at ease they looked, like they hadn’t just met less than a month ago. Maybe that’s how it was with parents and kids; the love was there always, even when there was confusion and contention. It gave me hope Dad and Abe would be okay, somehow, someway.

A small scraping noise made me freeze. It sounded close by although muffled, and after investigating, I discovered Abe was sitting outside on the patio. I grabbed a second spoon and stepped through the back door quietly.

“Couldn’t sleep?” I asked.

“I did for a while, but Hallie woke me and fell back to sleep in my bed.” He looked at me over his shoulder. “Try sleeping with a foot in your…well, never mind. I needed a little alone time.”

“Should I leave you to it?”

“Nah, come sit.”

I took a seat and offered him a spoon. “Want some?” The cool night air sent a shiver through me. “Kinda cold out here, isn’t it?”

“You’re not in Texas anymore, Dorothy.”

“Ha. Ha.” I handed over the ice cream and side-eyed him.

“What?” he asked around a huge bite.