“I need killer tips,” I admit, thinking about my upcoming lack of finances thanks to student teaching, AKA making no money while I work full-time. “I need to earn as much money as I can this summer.”
“You’ll find something,” Eli says reassuringly.
A sigh escapes me, and I know I sound down and out when I shouldn’t. Rent will be cheaper living with two people versus one. Even though the apartment the boys are in is three bedrooms and costs more rent overall, it’ll still be cheaper than what I’ve been paying while living with my best friend Hayden.
She’s moving in with her boyfriend, Tony. Those two are so in love, it’s almost sickening. She’s going to marry that dude. And she’s sticking around, student teaching here for the year, more for him than anything else since he’s still in college. I’m sticking around too, because where else would I go? At least we have each other.
And the guys.
This is going to be an interesting summer, that’s for sure.
One
Caleb
“Damn woman, you own a lot of shit,” I say as I carry in yet another stack of extra heavy boxes. I drop them on the floor of her new bedroom with a grunt, resting my hands on my hips as I survey t
he scene. The very chaotic, way too much stuff scene.
“I own the normal amount of stuff,” Gracie says, sounding irritated as she enters the room behind me. I glance over at her. Yep, she looks irritated too. It’s a common emotion when she’s around me. You’d think I’d get used to it. “I think when it comes to me, you like to complain.”
“Right back at you,” I snap, just as Eli enters the bedroom, a giant smile on his face.
“Hey, hey. Roommates fighting already? This is no bueno, my friends,” he says, Mr. Easygoing. The peace keeper, which isn’t normal for him, but here he is, stuck between us. I’m tempted to pop him in the face, but that’s just me taking out my aggression on someone for no good reason.
The one I feel extra aggressive toward at the moment is the other person currently standing in this room, looking all sexy and shit, barely dressed in a pair of extra short shorts and a sports bra.
That’s it. There is way too much skin exposed and I can’t stop looking at her. Every time she catches me, there’s a sneer on her face, as if she’s completely disgusted by me, when she’s the one who’s flaunting what she’s got.
Seriously, I am so fucked this summer—and not the way I want to be, either.
“We’re not fighting,” Gracie says, her voice sickeningly sweet. “More like we’re just having a minor disagreement.”
This is something that’s going to come up time and again between us. Having “minor disagreements,” as she calls them. We clash. We always have. I’m thinking that’s half the reason she cut me out of her life around Christmas last year. She told me she couldn’t tolerate being around me anymore and she needed some distance.
Ouch.
The other half of the reason she cut me out of her life is because she’s totally hot for me and didn’t want to end up getting with me, only for it to fizzle out because that’s what we do. Not just me, and not just her, but we.
As in, we can’t make relationships last long. Yeah, I messed around with Baylee off and on for a couple of years, but that’s only because she made it so damn convenient for me. I took advantage of her. I know I did. After seeing Jackson and Ellie go through a similar struggle, only for them to end up together and completely in love with each other, I had to take a good, hard look at myself and my behavior with Baylee.
I didn’t like what I saw. I was a jerk to her—for a long-ass time. She should’ve told me to fuck off a while ago. I was preparing to go to her and explain exactly that to her, too, but the girl beat me to the punch.
Baylee cut me off around the same time that Gracie did. They both walked out of my life, and once they were gone, it was like I threw a party.
A giant, let’s see how many girls I can get with, never-ending party. I didn’t even realize what the hell I was doing. Why would it matter that Gracie and Baylee pushed me out of their lives? I didn’t need them. I was surrounded by all kinds of women. What did they matter?
Still haven’t quite figured out the answer to that…
My wild behavior only lasted about a month. Until my friends staged an intervention with me and told me I needed to stop partying and drinking and fucking girls. That I was acting a little out of control and needed to get my shit together before I flunked out of school and couldn’t play football anymore.
That straightened me up quick. Sometimes it feels like football is all I’ve got left. The last bit of glory before I end up being just another mundane motherfucker doing the same ol’ thing, different day.
Couldn’t risk losing that, so I immediately agreed with my friends, which shocked them. I can still have a good time, but I just need to have a good time in moderation.
Jesus, I sound like my dad. He’s been preaching moderation to me since I was fourteen and he caught me stealing a pack of smokes out of the carton he kept in the cabinet over the fridge.
“Caleb. Buddy. Let’s go outside,” Eli practically yells at me, pulling me out of my head.