The Nice Guy Next Door (When In Waverly 1)

Millie

It’s Monday morning. My first day of work at the library and Lo’s first day at her new school. We’re both running around in a panic because half of our belongings are still packed away in boxes. Lo can’t find her straightener, and I can’t find my burgundy heels that I desperately want to wear today. They give me a nice boost of confidence—and height. They’re very retro and librarian-esque, according to Lo.

At least we have the coffee pot unpacked. I would not be able to get through this day without caffeine. Lo and I exchange sleepy blinks across a box that is clearly mislabeled. It says bathroom in big, bold letters, but it contains all of my missing shoes. Hallelujah! Lo glares at me while I slip my heels on and strut over to the kitchen to pour coffee into my travel mug.

“We need to leave, Lo. You don’t have time to straighten your hair now, anyway,” I tell her. She glares daggers at me and goes to her room in a fit of rage that is very out of character for her. She must be nervous, so that makes two of us.

A minute later, she returns with her hair in a loose braid and her backpack slung over her shoulder.

“Ready?” I ask her. She nods her head, and we rush out the door in a tornado of activity. I’ve forgotten my keys and have to run back in to grab them. My room looks like a bomb went off due to my shoe search, and it takes five minutes (that I did not have to spare) to find them. They were in my underwear drawer of all places. Who puts keys in their underwear drawer? Have I mentioned that I’m exceedingly exhausted from this past weekend?

I plop back down in the car and see the time. I only have ten minutes to drop Lo off at school and get myself to work. We can’t be late on our first day. I buckle up and then speed out of the driveway. I’m going way too fast, and I know I’m being a horrible influence on my impressionable little sister. I don’t normally drive like a raging maniac, but desperate times call for desperate measures. That’s the saying, right?

We’re so close to the school. At least Lo is going to be on time. That is, she was going to be on time. Not now. I’m 95% sure that my tire just gave up on me and is now lying in the road instead of on the rim where it’s supposed to be.

“No! No, no, no, no! This cannot be happening. Not today!” I yell. I pound on the steering wheel and accidentally hit the horn. It blares loud and long, and I want to crawl in a hole. Lo reaches over and pats my shoulder. “Don’t patronize me,” I snap at her. She snatches her hand away and scoots farther away from me in her seat.

I get out of my car and look at my tire…or lack thereof, I guess I should say. Just then, a state trooper pulls up behind me, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

Jameson steps out of his patrol car and says, “Hey, Millie. Good to see you. Just wish it was under better circumstances.”

“Yeah, it has been a rough morning. Even worse now. Yay. I mean, I know it’s my fault. I knew I needed new tires, but things have been so crazy lately. Who has time or money for tires?”

“Oh my gosh, you’re so weird,” Lo groans from inside the car and rests her head against the window. Jameson laughs softly. He leans down to see her better.

“Hi, I’m Jameson, your neighbor. I’m guessing you’re Lo,” he says.

“Yep. And I’m about to get a tardy on my first day of school here,” she says.

“Well, let me get this tire changed for you real quick then.”

Jameson gets to work changing the tire, and I stand to the side, watching him. His hands are filthy, and his forehead is sweaty, but he somehow still manages to hold the title of “Most Gorgeous Man Alive.”

It’s taking longer than I thought it would, though, and with each passing second, I’m feeling more and more guilty. Lo isn’t going easy on me either. She’s whispering under her breath how this is all my fault. I wish she would have just stayed in the car.

I’ve apologized at least five times, but she’s not having it. I feel awful. I’ve made her move to a new town and start a new school, and now she’s going to have to walk into a room full of kids she doesn’t know, late. Like, really late.

He finishes up and loads all of my things into the trunk of my car before coming over to talk to me.

“Thank you so much. You have no idea how much I appreciate it,” I say as I clasp his dirty hand in mine.

“You look like you’re having a rough start here in Waverly. Just make sure you get that tire taken care of quickly, okay,” he says.

“Can y’all discuss this over a candlelit dinner later or something? I’m already late,” Lo interjects.

Jameson raises his eyebrows in surprise and says, “Okay, you’re free to go.” He turns and walks back to his car, and Lo and I slide into our seats. I watch him in the rearview mirror for a moment. That’s definitely laughter making his broad shoulders shake.

I put the car in drive and pull out onto the highway. “He was being perfectly professional. Why did you say that?” I ask Lo. He probably thinks I spent hours gushing about his perfect face to my little sister. How embarrassing. Especially considering I’m only interested in being his friend. I don’t need him getting the wrong idea here. I have no room in my life for a relationship—not now, not ever. I’ve seen how love ends, and it’s never good.

For now, I’m wholly devoted to giving Lo a carefree last two years of high school. She’s gone through so much and worked so hard this past year. She deserves to be a typical teenager for a change. After that, we’ll see where the wind takes me. But it won’t be taking me in the direction of a man. I know that for a fact.

“Yeah, sure. But he looks at you like he wants to maul you,” Lo says. She shakes her head as if to say I’m in denial.

I walk into the library twenty minutes late. Hopefully Jameson never finds out, but I sped the entire way from the high school—not recommended when driving on a donut. Gertrude, the head librarian watches me with her hands clasped behind her back and waits for an excuse.

My face turns bright red as the rest of the library staff watches on in horror, wondering what Gertrude will do to me. I babble for a moment before words come spilling out of me. I narrate my entire morning for her, starting with my search for my shoes, all the way down to the point where I had to go inside Lo’s school to sign her in because she was so late. Lo was furious with me, by the way. No teenager wants to be walked into school.

The sympathetic looks on my new coworkers’ faces give me hope that Gertrude will go easy on me.