AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Reid must be Elliot’s last name, then? I’ve never understood why guys back home call each other by their last names, but clearly it’s an international trend.
I shift my eyes from Josh back to Elliot, prepared for the electric jolt that accompanies his attention this time. He’s holding a steady hand out. More formal than I expected, but it beats the way one of the other two guys—Oliver or Lucas, I can’t remember who’s who anymore—is looking at my bare legs. I study the tan, calloused skin of Elliot’s hand before slowly placing my smaller, paler hand in his. His warm palm envelops mine. I keep my eyes locked on his, attempting to ignore the stampede of mammoth-sized butterflies suddenly swarming in my stomach. Awareness sparks up my nerve endings and sends shivers down my spine.
He’s just a guy.
“I’m Auden,” I inform him.
Elliot grins, wide and full. “That would have been my first guess,” he replies, and I mentally cringe as I remember that Josh had already told him my name. I’m not normally this socially inept.
“I like to make my own introductions,” I declare, attempting to play it cool. But also, whoamI? Amobster?
Elliot’s smile grows even broader at my response. He’s either amused or thinks I’m the type of ridiculous that’s entertaining. Good thing I don’t care either way.
“It’s almost two—we’ve got to get moving on the posters,” Josh announces. I startle when he speaks. I temporarily forgot about the three other guys standing next to my table. Based on Josh’s small smirk, he noticed.
“You meanafterwe fix them all,” Oliver states, glancing at Lucas and rolling his eyes.
“Next time, don’t leave all the work to me!” Lucas snaps defensively.
“C’mon, we can do it quickly,” Josh replies. “Let’s head over there.” He points to an open table in the opposite corner of the shop.
Oliver nods in response. Lucas grumbles a “Fine.”
“See you around, Auden,” Josh says. “Tour offer stands. Thanks for the pen!”
I didn’t realize he intended to keep the five-hundred-dollar pen, but I’m sick of staring at it, so I’m more relieved than annoyed. I just nod in response. Lucas and Oliver are already walking toward the table Josh spotted. Elliot is now talking to the older man seated at the table next to mine. The level of enthusiasm in the conversation appears to be one-sided.
Elliot is smiling, but it looks forced, not as carefree as the grin he flashed me moments ago. Josh inserts himself into the exchange, nodding and smiling before punching Elliot in the arm and jerking his head toward the table Oliver and Lucas are already seated at.
I’m not expecting Elliot to glance at me before following him over, but he does. I quickly look down at the table in an attempt to hide the fact that I was staring at him, trying to look busy as I shuffle around the papers detailing my summer assignments.
I don’t put my headphones back in, which allows me to hear the occasional laugh or jeer from the corner, but the hubbub within the coffee shop prevents me from making out anything the group of guys are actually saying. I keep my eyes trained down and do my best to focus on the list of assignments I’m slowly working my way through. If I keep this pace up, I’ll finish everything by the time I board an airplane to return to Los Angeles.
I’m midway through outlining an essay when a shadow falls over my table again.
“Here to steal another pen?” I joke, lifting my head to look at Josh—only it’s not Josh. My eyes collide with a shade of blue that suddenly seems familiar.
“Nope,” Elliot says lightly, setting my black pen back down on the wooden table. “The opposite. My gramps has a thing about fancy pens. Pretty sure Hawley has no clue he just lifted a few hundred bucks from you.” He takes a couple of steps backward, toward the door. The other three boys are already standing near the exit, eyeing us with interest. “Bye, Auden.”
“Bye,” I repeat, unnecessarily. He’s already gone.
I stay at the coffee shop for another hour, in no rush to return to my aunt’s empty house. Eventually, I toss everything back into my bag and stand up to clear my coffee mug before heading outside. The air is warm, but nowhere near as hot as I’m used to.
I trudge back to Katherine’s slowly, dreading another evening spent watching a movie on my laptop or lying to my friends. It’s six blocks back to my aunt’s house, which is a modest white Colonial with a small yard.
Despite my reluctance to make this trip, I can’t deny the little Canadian town of Canmore has an abundance of charm and character sorely missing from the suburban sprawl I grew up in. I reach the house, walk up the brick front steps, and use the key Katherine gave me to open the front door. I head for the kitchen first, suddenly starving. The assortment of pastries I consumed at the coffee shop have long since been digested.
My quest for food is forgotten when I realize the kitchen is not empty as I’ve come to expect.
“Hello?” I say hesitantly to a head of light blonde hair. I don’t think the slender girl wearing skinny jeans and a pink tank top came here to rob the place. She turns around when I speak, and I hardly recognize the pigtailed eight-year-old I played Candyland with at my grandparents’ annual Fourth of July party. Her hair is painstakingly straightened, falling in a perfect sheet. Her face is heavily painted with makeup that makes her look older than sixteen—older than me.
“Oh. Hi.” Annabel’s voice holds the amount of enthusiasm one would greet a gnat with. “You’re here.” She couldn’t sound less enthused about that fact. I surmised that her disappearing act since I arrived indicated a lack of excitement about my visit, but I feel a fresh surge of disappointment as I’m presented with firm evidence.
“Yep.I’m here,” I respond, letting some sarcasm saturate my tone. Annabel simply turns back to her sandwich, but I soldier on, determined to at least attempt to connect with her. “So, it’s been a while…”Try eight years.“What have you been, uh, up to?” I receive no response, just a slight shrug that tells me she heard me.
The doorbell rings. Annabel brushes past me wordlessly and heads to the front entryway. Loud exclamations filter into the kitchen, and I glance around the corner to see a group of four girls standing in the hallway. They’re all dressed similarly to Annabel, sporting tight clothes and perfect makeup as they gush over each other’s appearance. Annabel stands in the center of the group, chattering away.
Obviously, Ishouldbe taking her ice queen attitude personally. The noise level in the hallway only continues to escalate, so I grab a granola bar from the pantry and head upstairs to the guest room—my current bedroom. I flop down on the bed, munching on the bar and staring at the ceiling.
