His smile in reply is just as blinding as the midday sun, and he keeps his hands in his pockets as he turns me down the street, toward the lake. I walk next to him, a safe space between us, feeling my world shift.

What I don’t know yet is if that’s for better or worse.

I’m still feeling the warm glow of the sunrise when the house phone rings.

“Hello?”

“Starlee!”

“Hey, Mom.” I sit at the kitchen table. The cord to the phone stretches across the room.

“Ready for your first day of school?”

“Yep, I’m still in my pajamas and haven’t brushed my hair. So, completely prepared.”

My mom and I have a few standing jokes about being homeschooled. One is that you get to work in your pajamas. The other is how much money we save on school clothes and other accessories like backpacks and lunch boxes. I’ve always laughed them off, like I agreed with the thriftiness, but deep down I was jealous of the back-to-school flyers with the sleek, shiny backpacks with names stitched across the fabric, silly pencil cases, and a trendy new lunchbox.

“I know you’ll do great. Remember, any problems and you email the program director.”

“I will.”

“So, tell me what’s been going on?”

Oh, how I want to, I think, the experience of the sunrise still so fresh. The way Jake and I walked down the long road, further than I’d been in that direction. We’d passed the school I didn’t even realize was there, the still-sleeping trailer park, and a little museum. He brought me to the edge of the town, overlooking the wide salt lake, perfectly blue in the shadows of the mountain. We climbed on a boulder bigger than a car, and Jake gave me his hand to help me to the top. We sat next to one another, faces shifting from shadowy to pink to orange as the sun rose in the east. He was right about it being the best spot to watch. It made my little place over the fence seem silly and lonely and incomplete.

But I can’t tell her that, or about Supernatural or Dexter’s pie or how Charlie fixed Leelee’s computer. I can’t tell her anything, which is strange and unusual because for so long, she was my world.

I lie to my mother for what may be the first time. “Nothing much. The tourist season is about to start, though. The cabins are all booked next week, so I think it’ll probably get busier.”

“Ah, the tourist season. I remember it well.” She doesn’t say it fondly. Not for the first time, I wonder why my mother would send me somewhere she hated so much.

“How about you? What have you been doing?” I ask, eager to change subjects.

“I got a few new contracts that have been keeping me busy. I drove down to the beach for a few days—just to clear my head.”

My mother loved the beach—I think because it’s the opposite of the mountains. I used to agree with her, but now I’m not so sure.

“I should probably let you get started,” she says. “I’m sure Leelee will need your help in the office soon.”

“Okay.”

“Love you, sweetie.”

“I love you, too,” I reply, carrying the phone over to the wall. I hang it on the cradle, feeling awkward and confused. I’d lied to my mom. I have a secret life I don’t want her to know about. It’s wrong, but at the same time it feels disturbingly right.

“I know, you’re loading,” I mutter, getting more and more frustrated. I started my online work, Trig and Physics, both subjects my mother felt like I needed a head-start on before my senior year. The funny thing is that my academics were strong, homeschooled or not, but I’m starting to suspect that if I’m not busy with schoolwork, then what would I be doing? As a normal high school senior, I’d probably have a job, or friends, or even a boyfriend.

But I’m not normal. Which is why I’m fighting with the laptop in my bedroom and considering throwing it across the room.

“Why.Won’t.You.Load?”

I’d done the first two assignments and went through the process of submitting them to my instructor. Something was jammed up though, or I was just doing it wrong, whichever, it wouldn’t let me turn it in.

My mother would tell me to email the chatline but I’m too angry for that. Instead, I carry my computer down to the office, where Leelee is talking to Katie about the schedule for the day.

“Starlee!” Katie says with a smile when I walk in. “Why the angry face?”

“My computer’s being a jerk and won’t let me turn in my assignment.”

Tags: Angel Lawson The Wayward Sons Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net