Heartburn (Love By Design 3) - Page 16

“Are you sure we should let them drive?” Elbowing Ryder he looked at me and shrugged as if to say I should drive if I didn’t like it.

Answering their questions seemed the only way to make the drive into town happen faster. “If you’re asking if duct tape was involved in my rescue, no. But he did hike us to this cabin in the woods out of the rain.”

Slapping his navigator in the chest, Mateo spoke sounding like a bad nineties cartoon. “Bro, we should try to find it and have a party in the woods.”

“Fire, fire, fire.” Connor chanted and I bounced my head back on the headrest blocking out the IQ drain up front.

“How about you don’t because that dick ranger could have you arrested for breaking park rules.” Rolling my eyes, my arms crossed over my chest hoping to keep any chill out of my bones this morning. I couldn’t seem to get warm since Whit and I separated this morning, the distance increasing with each step closer to the campsite and his jeep.

“Easy, Amelia. Connor was just talking out of his ass, right Conner?” Ryder’s tone brooked no argument and Connor grunted. “You know coach will kill you if you guys get arrested before we lock down the season.” Sure because the only thing standing between right and wrong for these guys was a shot at playing pro-ball with the scouts and coaches up their asses.

We drove back to campus and the guys dropped Dinah and me off at our apartment. They had practice and I had the rest of the day to get myself sorted out before class tomorrow. I had a headache and the hot shower I took hadn’t helped much, my luck I’d catch a cold before class.

I lay on my bed dozing off when my reprieve was short lived with my phone ringing the theme music to Phantom of the Opera. The 212 area code was a dead giveaway.

“Hey mom, what’s up?”

“Amelia Rae, what’s the meaning of this class schedule? Photography? Religion of the Worlds? Your father and I don’t pay for this liberal shit.”

I got up feeling fevered with anger pacing my apartment back and forth. So much for the chill, I was definitely getting sick. Last thing I wanted to do was visit the campus clinic if I could avoid it.

I coughed.

“Oh, um, actually you do. Those are e

lectives I have to take before I get into my major.” Not a total lie, but close enough. Everyone had to take a religion course at some point and I figured that was easier than rocks for jocks, a geology course that took hikes in the woods. You know, because I loved the woods so much and things panned out so well for me this weekend.

“Hmmph.” Mom sounded unconvinced and there was nothing more discouraging than being told I wasn’t meeting her expectations. I didn’t know what I wanted and I didn’t know how to get there under her stifling watch. This was why I took a big risk convincing my dad to get her to say yes. Otherwise, I’d be back home laying on my bed just like now even more depressed over the fact that nothing I did was ever good enough attending City College. I wasn’t like my sister. I didn’t have the fortitude to let mom primp me and parade me in front of eligible guys my age she knew from the neighborhood. I never would be and I thought being at least two hours away would help.

Clearly it hasn’t.

There’s a fancy camera sitting on my desk still inside it’s box. I thought a photography seminar would be fun with all the out of class assignments taking photos on campus. Anything to get out of sitting at a desk nine to five. My mother owned her own medical billing company and my dad was a physician’s assistant. They were not the easiest of people to please and I was mentally worn trying to figure out what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. I was barely here and hadn’t even had a chance to explore anything outside of my apartment on Main Street, New Paltz and a cabin in the woods.

“Mom, does it matter as long as I get good grades and a degree.” I went over to my desk and used my nail to open the edges of the box. I slid the top off and smiled pulling out the camera I had no idea how to use. My dad always got the top of the line model of things and this camera was no different. I felt like a fool trying to manipulate the shutter settings so I put it back down carefully. I could start to figure it out in class tomorrow.

“I don’t want you running around up there.” If she only knew how I spent my weekend she would be appalled in true mom fashion.

“No worries on that end. You know I hate anything related to bugs and sunshine.”

“Very funny Amelia Rae.” I know she means boys and trouble but I don’t bother to inform her differently. I had more than enough of that this weekend.

“I think I’m getting a cold mom, I’m going to hit up the drug store for some stuff and go to bed early.”

“Go to the clinic on campus if you have to, don’t wait. You remember that time in high school?” How could I forget. I was sick with walking pneumonia for weeks because I hid it well and refused to get checked out despite having a physician’s assistant for a dad. I hated needles and had this thing about hospital smells since my Aunt died. However, mom made a valid point even if I didn’t want to admit it.

“I’ll call you later.”

“Feel better honey, and take some real classes.” Mom made her signature kissy sounds on the phone and I hung up flinging myself back on my bed.

No wonder I felt like a failure as an adult. Mom acted like I was five and dad merely responded with an exasperated, “do what makes you happy speech.” Too bad I had no idea what that consisted of.

12

Whit

The ache I felt in my chest didn’t make sense as I sat inside Easton’s peeling a label off my beer bottle. It was a little too much like a Sheryl Crow song and if anyone knew how much I was missing my purple haired girl I’d be turning over my man card to my friends.

I let the paper curl and roll out between my fingertips looking at the label of craft beer made by my two friends and brothers who owned the bar, Andy and David Easton. They bought their dad out when he decided to retire to Florida with their mom, and were trying their hand pretty successfully as pub owners. Andy was studying to be a master brewer. I thought he drank beer all day, but apparently there’s a lot more involved. Rumor had them remodeling the place in the future to fit the younger changing crowd of the town and I hoped at least in part much of the place would remain the same. Sadly, the crowd continued to get younger while I continued to get older. At least Easton’s remained iconic.

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