Page 1 of When We Were Young

Part One

Then…

Chapter One

Lizzie

Nothing ruins my day faster than the smell of Landon Carter. I don’t see him right away, but I know that spicy aroma as soon as it hits the surrounding air—it’s Landon’s cologne. I hate it. I was never a fan, but over time, I grew to despise it as the man who wore it showed more of his ugly side.

Seconds later, the chair across from me at the small café table scrapes against the floor, and my ex-boyfriend sits down. Never mind that I’m clearly in the middle of studying, with papers spread across the table, my glasses on, and my attention focused on said papers.

He folds his hands and sets them on top of my tablet, then leans forward. He hovers over the table in a way that crowds me, even though there are a few feet between us.

I sigh, making no effort to tamp it down. I don’t care if he knows I’m annoyed with him.

“Whatcha doing, babe?”

Ew. He says it as if the last year and a half since we broke up hasn’t happened. As if he hasn’t refused to let go.

Normally, that might not be a huge deal because I could simply avoid him. But it’s been more difficult than it should be. We’re both from the same small town about two hours away—Hollow Hills—and Landon’s family is quite influential. They have their hands in almost everything that happens there since they own several of the key businesses that employ the town’s residents. That makes it easy for them to control people. In a town far enough from a major city that a commute for work would be untenable, people need to find employment closer to home. That often means working at a Carter-owned business. It’s like the Carters have a chokehold on my hometown, and it’s sad to see.

I lean back in my chair and cross my arms over my chest. I glare at him.

“What does it look like I’m doing, Landon? I’m studying. Not everyone can—or would—buy their grades.”

“Tsk, tsk,” he says, shaking his head at me. “Now, now, Angel, you know that’s not true.”

Sour, acidic fluid rushes from my stomach into my mouth at his use of the generic nickname he always used for me.

“I’m just naturally gifted, so good grades come easily to me. I could help you study if you’d like.”

“Your nose is growing, Pinocchio. Remember, I knew you when it looked like you might not graduate high school with the rest of the class. So, no, thank you. I prefer to study alone.”

My tone leaves no question that I mean every word.

Anger flashes in his eyes for a split second.

But it’s true—Landon’s dad, Theodore Carter, would never tolerate the shame of one of his children failing to rise to the impossibly high Carter standards. And there’s no question that the amount of money his father donates to this university influences how easy Landon’s life is here.

Not that Mr. Carter ever felt State University—his own alma mater—was good enough for his son. He blamed me when Landon followed me here. I’ll never forget his face, the angriest shade of red I’ve ever seen, when Landon told him he’d been accepted here.

I shouldn’t have been there, should never have seen, or heard, any of it. But Landon dismissed my request that he wait until I wasn’t around to tell his dad about his decision to attend State University. So, I was there as Mr. Carter spewed his hateful words.

“You will not throw away your life for a low-rent slut who uses what’s between her legs to control you.”

The words hurt. But what wounded me more was that Landon said nothing to defend me against them.

In the end, Landon ignored his father and enrolled anyway.

I suspect he knew deep down that once I got out of our small town, made new friends, and broadened my horizons, I would find my backbone and leave him. That he would no longer be able to control me.

Still, it doesn’t mean he hasn’t tried.

I force the memories out of my mind, not wanting to give him any more of my energy.

He narrows his eyes and stares at me for several long moments before he speaks again.

“Okay. What are you doing tonight? There’s a party at the house. Why don’t you come? You can stay the night in my room, so you don’t have to worry about drinking. I swear, no funny business.”