Page 84 of Stolen Summer
“You’re not the first girl to fall for guys like Riley. Hell, I’m guilty of falling numerous times and can’t seem to learn my lesson. They’re not worthy of us. You and I, Arie, are too badass for douchebags. They can’t handle us, and that’s the truth.”
“I hate him,” I muttered.
She squeezed my shoulder. “Me too, honey. Me too. And we can hate him for as long as it takes. Years. Hell, forever if necessary.”
“Forever sounds nice,” I lied. The truth was the idea of never seeing Cole again caused a storm of panic to brew in my chest.
Too soon, I decided. It was too soon, too fresh, to have those thoughts.
Dad didn’t pry too much into why I was suddenly home and not my usual self. He noticed. It was difficult not to. Even Sadie seemed to want to cheer me up, making my favorite banana chocolate-chip muffins.
I took a few days for myself to wallow and hibernate. Sometimes a person needed to sulk in their misery. I wasn’t hurting anyone but myself, and after giving myself those few days, I had a better mindset.
Today, I promised I’d get out into the world.
I’d go to the diner and beg Ann for my job because sitting at home would drive me to walk off a cliff. Not that I didn’t enjoy spending time with Dad or even Sadie. I just wasn’t an idle person. Without constant chaos, I was lost.
Frankie was picking me up, and according to her text, I had seven minutes before she rolled into my driveway.
I’d washed my hair for the first time in days, and I was putting the last finishing touches of makeup on my clean face.
I looked halfway decent.
Grabbing my phone, I checked to see if I had missed any messages from Frankie or someone else.
That someone wasn’t Cole. Tell that to the pit in my stomach I did my best to ignore.
He hadn’t once reached out. Hadn’t called or texted, but it was better this way. A clean break. For my sanity, I needed to cut ties, not hold on to threads that would only snap anyway.
I shoved the phone into the back pocket of my jean shorts and headed into the kitchen where Dad was popping the top on a beer. That pit in my gut grew bigger. Don’t let it get to you.
“Are you going out?” he asked, noticing my appearance.
“Yeah, Frankie is on her way,” I said, filling a water bottle.
“Do you want to talk about what happened with your other job?” he tentatively asked.
“No, not really, but do you know anyone hiring?” I didn’t just need to get my job at the diner back, but I also had to look for another. Working myself into the grave was the only way I’d ever repay Cole.
Dad studied me, his brows drawn together thoughtfully. I could tell he wanted me to open up about what had been bothering me the last week, but he knew me well enough to know I wouldn’t talk about it until I was ready. We weren’t the kind of family who was big on sharing feelings. “I’ll make some calls. Ask around. Sadie might know of something.”
A horn honked outside. Frankie had arrived, saving me from any further guilt. I hated keeping secrets from Dad, but it had become easier in the last couple of years. The more I worked, the more we drifted apart and the easier it was to harbor the deep shit inside. “I’ll see you later tonight,” I said, heading for the front door.
“What do you say we swing by the convenience store, grab a couple of margarita coolers, and get day drunk at Wrath’s Peak instead?” Frankie suggested when I got into her car, her foot on the gas before I had my seat belt latched.
Despite driving a beater she got from her grandma, Frankie drove like an actual psycho. I spent most of the time in the passenger seat braced for impact or with my eyes closed. “That’s a wild suggestion this early in the day,” I replied, clicking my buckle.
“It’s past noon,” she argued, messing with the music selection until she found a song worthy of listening to.
Dropping my bag onto the floor, I settled into the seat. “I’ll make you a deal. We can get drunk at Wrath Peak’s after I get a job.”
“Fuck, that could take weeks,” Frankie groaned.
I grinned. “Just drive and try not to run us off the road or anyone else for that matter.”
Her car didn’t have air, heat, or other essential parts, but somehow the damn thing always started. We had the windows cranked down, and Frankie’s auburn hair whirled around her face. “Have you heard anything from you-know-who?”
Swallowing the sudden lump in my throat, I quickly put up my hair. If I didn’t, I risked looking like a tangled mess. Unlike Frankie, chaotic hair didn’t look sexy on me. “No, thank God,” I sighed.