On Monday morning I sit at the kitchen table reading the back of the Cinnamon Toast Crunch box and contemplating my life.
Dad was so busy with his TV show preparations, he barely spoke to me. Christina is one big weird mystery I can’t seem to unravel—especially when I spend all my time in Truman. And my snooping skills must be getting rusty because I couldn’t find a trace of any prenuptial agreement in Dad’s office. He’s probably keeping it some place I would never suspect. Like his Bible. My dad is not a believer, and I really wish he would get with it. If anybody needs some Jesus, it’s him.
My mom shuffles in, still in her robe. She wraps her hair in a ponytail and heads straight for the coffeemaker.
“Running a little slow today?” Normally she’s up, dressed, and completely lipsticked way before the rest of us roll out of bed.
She fumbles for a coffee mug and pushes her bangs out of her eyes. “Didn’t sleep much last night.”
Robbie pads in, his Superman cape over his Spider-Man shirt and jeans. “Did anyone catch that CNN report last night on Middle Eastern politics?”
Mom and I both just stare.
Robbie shrugs and sits down by his bowl. “Your loss.” He pours out some cereal, keeping an eye out for the prize.
I help Robbie with the milk. “How was Jake’s big show?”
My stepbrother frowns. “He was good. But we didn’t get to see him much except from the stadium. Dad’s real busy.”
Mom pours her coffee and says nothing.
“But he did smash someone’s face in.”
I ruffle the top of Robbie’s head. “I know you must be proud.”
He thumbs through some mail on the table, pulling out his Superheroes in Training magazine.
“What’s this?” I pick up a letter that sticks out. “A note from your advisor at Tulsa Community College? Mom, you didn’t get detention or anything, did you?”
Robbie giggles but Mom focuses on adding creamer to her mug. “It’s just a reminder about late registration for the next term. No big deal.” She grabs the paper and crumples it in one hand, sending it to the trash can in a perfect arc.
“You shouldn’t quit school. You love going.”
“It’s not like I know what I want to major in anyway.” She pats me on the back to soften her words. “Maybe next fall.”
“My daddy’s gonna be superfamous then!”
I glance at Mom, but her face is blank. Is there one area of my life not on the verge of falling apart? Just one?
When I get to journalism second hour, I notice Luke isn’t there yet. Disappointment flutters in my chest as I take my seat at my computer. I wanted to grill him on all that happened at the carnival since I’ve been gone. And that’s seriously the only reason I’m sad he’s not here. I haven’t missed him or anything.
“I talked to Cherry this weekend.”
I lift my eyes from my screen and see Ashley walking toward me. Her shorts defy the school dress code. Not that the administration ever does anything about it. But still, it tempts me to make a citizen’s arrest for crimes against decency and good fashion.
“Glad you got to talk to her.” Which means Ashley went to the carnival. Where Luke was. I blink a few times to block out the vision of them sharing a jumbo popcorn.
Ashley props a hip on the corner of my table. “She really didn’t have a lot to say. Did you warn her not to talk to me?”
“No.” I type a few sentences on a story outline. “But I do have this little remote in my purse, and occasionally I use it to control her.”
Ashley’s laugh trumpets the room only to end with a hard glare.
“I already apologized to you, so what is your problem?”
“I don’t have a problem with you.” As long as you don’t talk, move, or breathe. “You’re completely on your own with Cherry. She’s young and she’s been through a lot. You can’t blame her for not wanting to give you the Oprah interview version of her life. Or maybe she didn’t talk to you because she didn’t warm up to you.” Because it seems like Luke is the only one who can stand next to you and not get frostbit.
She stands up, one hand to her hip, one hand pointing dangerously close to my face. “Look, things got out of hand that night at the carnival. And your relationship with Luke obviously wasn’t strong enough to take it, so I’m not going to take responsibility for one tiny kiss.” Her glossy lips curve in a smile. “But now he’s single, and I’m single. And since you dumped him and are ridiculously incompatible, there’s nothing standing in the way of us going out again.”
“Did he say we’re incompatible?”
Ashley rolls her eyes. “Luke and I have talked about all sorts of things.” She lets the sentence hang, and my mind races with various scenarios of them hanging out, chatting on the phone, texting to their little hearts’ content. Just how many times has he LOL’d her?
“I’m kind of busy here.” I force a smile. “Was there something specific you wanted?” Or were you just needing to gloat?
“I want to do what’s best for this paper and for Luke. So let’s just all try and get along, okie dokie?”
She is about one okie dokie away from me steamrolling her into next week. I stand up and get ready to tell her what to do with her bossy, pseudo-positive attitude. “You know what, Ashley? I think—”
“Good morning, girls.” Luke sails through the classroom, his mouth pulled into a grin.“Glad to see you two working together.” As he talks, his strong hand latches onto my shoulder and forces me to my seat. “I know how much professionalism means to you both.” With a hand at her back, Luke leads Ashley back to her computer, chatting amiably about her current assignment.
I’m halfway through my outline when Luke returns. “You want to tell me why I walked into this room and found you ready to slam Ashley to the mats like Captain Iron Jack just took over your body?”
“That girl is a viper.”
“I like her.”
Let me just pick this arrow out of my heart. “Clearly.”
“I meant as a friend.” He sits on the very same spot his little protégé vacated. “She’s a good writer, Bella.”
“Then tell her to stick to writing and leave me alone.”
His mouth curves in a wicked grin. “Can’t handle her?”
My eyes narrow on his handsome form. “I don’t know what she’s like when you two are alone, but with me, she’s as friendly as a Manhattan mugger.”
His laugh is quiet, but I hear it nonetheless.
“Go away, Luke. I have work to do.” I have an article to write for my next column, a future stepmom to investigate, and all sorts of loose ends at the carnival.
He takes the empty seat next to mine and rolls toward me until we’re shoulder to shoulder. Looking straight ahead at my computer, his voice is still so close it sends chill bumps dancing down my spine. “If I went away, then I couldn’t tell you Red and Stewart went on their treasure hunt every night you were gone.”
“Seriously?” I lower my voice. “Keep talking.”
He turns his head at an angle, leaning his square chin on his hand. “Unfortunately, that’s all I know. They act more agitated every night. And never seem to find anything.”
I stare at the ceiling and contemplate this, trying to block out the clean scent of my ex-boyfriend. “Nothing else happened?”
“Surveillance wasn’t the same without you.”
I look into his piercing blue eyes. “Really?”
“And Ruthie.” His wicked grin is back as he gets to his feet.
He gives my shoulder another squeeze and walks on by. “See you tonight.”