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I’d finished high school a summer ago, albeit nearly a year behind since I had taken so much time off, but now I was facing another summer of absolute boredom and working at Freddie’s Frozen Yogurt. If I didn’t sort out my future, I would have many more summers just like it.
Now that Darionne had moved away, I was officially a loner. I had a few other ‘friends’, the kind better classified as acquaintances, but without Darionne with I was better off as a hermit.
I knew Grandpa would disagree.
He’d been encouraging me to be more sociable for months now. He even suggested I find a nice boy to occupy my time with, going as far as volunteering to introduce me to a few, much to my mortification. I hadn’t bothered asking who he had in mind. Grandpa was too deeply tied to the roots of Ashridge for it to matter.
I exited my game to a lobby and sat my headset on the coffee table. Another glance at the clock above the fireplace showed it wasn’t too late yet. I’d had a deep-rooted craving for a large polar pop for nearly an hour and since I needed to stretch my legs, going to get one would kill two birds with one stone.
Grandpa was out playing poker and wouldn’t be home until nearly midnight or tomorrow morning, so I was left with no other choice than to take Big Rusty.
Arming myself with a decorative couch pillow to help me see over the dash, I walked towards the rust-colored monstrosity prepared to conquer the beast. He was borderline prehistoric and not the prettiest thing to look at, but he’d never failed me yet. Even with a broken gas gauge and over three-hundred-something-thousand miles he got me around just fine.
Whenever Grandpa got in a mood and insisted that he was going to go out and buy me a new car, I reasoned that I needed to get a better job first. I didn’t care how well off he was; I wouldn’t be okay with him paying for the car and all the responsibilities that came with having one. I was fine driving Rusty until I figured out my next move.
Humidity clung to the air, a sign it was going to rain soon and that I needed to hurry. Rusty only had one decent windshield wiper.
I climbed in and adjusted everything so I wouldn’t kill myself or another driver out on the road. After a few quick taps on the gas pedal, Rusty started right up and I was well on my way to obtaining my refreshment.
Twenty minutes later, I was pulling into Pump-N-Go. The parking lot was practically deserted save for three other cars. Inside was just as empty. Seeing Weston behind the register helping an elderly man with his lottery tickets, I gave a little wave and got a dimpled simile in return.
Since I was here, I walked up and down a few aisles to see if anything grabbed my attention. I was debating if I wanted chips or not when both Moretto brothers walked in along with two girls I’d never seen before—both brunettes.
All of them were dressed as if going or coming from a nightclub.
“Look, I told you!” one of the girls loudly exclaimed. She laughed and showed the boys her phone screen.
Justin grinned at whatever he was seeing and wrapped an arm around her curvy waist. The other girl leaned into his brother and whispered something.
I decided against any chips and headed for the drink machines, not sparing them another glance. If I made eye contact, it might open the door to conversation I was not in the mood to have. I was just placing my cup beneath the ice dispenser when Constantine stepped up beside me and began to make a drink for himself.
“Hello, Rose.”
“Hey,” I replied quietly, resisting the urge to rub the back of my neck. The sound of his voice had made the hairs rise.
I didn’t dare say another word, but I was acutely aware of his close proximity. I’d never once felt small until he was standing next to me. He was the last person I’d expected to see on my little outing, especially with it being a Friday, and dressed the way he was.
I could count on one hand the number of times I’d seen him outside of his garage or bedroom. That sounded terrible, but it’s exactly what I meant. Constantine lived directly across the impasse from my grandpa. The Moretto manor was notorious, and the nicest house our neighborhood—the whole town--had to offer.
Grandpa was a close second.
Constantine had an apple red GT that he was always tinkering with in the evenings. I liked to watch him work from my window. I’d positioned my desk just so I had somewhere to sit while I did.
