|CHAPTER FOUR|

Quinn Alberstein was the kind of girl that really liked being a teenager. She liked crushes, and friends she thought would last forever, makeup, shopping with her parent’s cash, experimenting, and above all: gossip—but not the kind of gossip that lands you the title Queen Bee. She just liked to talk.

Through this, she gained the knowledge about nearly everyone important and unimportant in both school and town. But, she wasn’t the type to spread rumors. She knew there were very few people she could trust to share all of these things with, and I happened to be one of them.

I was the perfect person for a chatty girl to spill the secrets of a hundred teenagers to.

Why?

I simply didn’t care.

I’d zone out, forget, lose complete interest.

I didn’t care if Walt Hamilton was in the closet, or whether or not Rumor Jackson gained a few pounds. I was the perfect place to take rumors to die. I was perfect because I was too busy trying to cover up my own personal life to care about anyone else.

Being friends with Quinn became increasingly difficult as we aged. She had to know everything about me. She was one of those people. I didn’t like those people, but I put up with her because she’d been in my life for such a long time that I couldn’t just tell her goodbye and never see her again.

 We’d been best friends since we were babies. She had an idea of how I operated—but that didn’t mean she didn’t slip what she considered “unimportant” information about me to her other friends, because she did from time to time.

Information we found important about ourselves differed entirely.

For example, if I told her about my friendship with Bash, she would immediately jump to the conclusion that we were trying to “get it on”. Next thing I’d know, Zoey and Noel would be asking questions about a boyfriend I didn’t even have. I couldn't have that getting around. I couldn’t lie. But, even if I told the truth, nobody would believe me.

Hiding my personal life was tough job in high school. Having a friend like Quinn made it a little harder. She was insanely intuitive.

“Something’s different.”

I glanced over at the lawn chair beside me. Quinn was relaxed across it, legs up, sunglasses down. She had a magazine in her lap and lipgloss in the cup holder. We were on her front lawn in bikini tops and shorts, letting the sun tan our skin. Just a couple houses down the chickens were squawking. You could hear the faint hum of the Pea Shucker’s voice as he sang show tunes.  

I pushed my sunglasses up into my hair and closed a newly recommended book from Bash on my finger to hold my page. I’d seen him once since our phone call. Then, I had to make plans with Quinn, as promised.

She reached over and wrapped a finger around a lock of my short dark hair, pursing her lips.

“I think the sun’s lightening your hair.”

I couldn’t see that being possible. Since our waterpark escapades, I spent most of my time inside reading. We’d only been outside for an hour and a half.

“Right,” I said, letting the tone of my voice reflect my disbelief.

“Really,” she assured me with a half grin and pulled her hand back into her lap. “So...” She snapped her magazine shut and sat up. “Where have you been going—because it hasn’t been to the waterpark with me and the girls.”

I flipped my sunglasses back down to mask an eye roll. I didn’t understand why my business was so important. Lifting the book, I pointed to the cover.

“Library.”

One of her dirty blonde eyebrows rose and she bit her lip mischievously. “What’s at the library?” Her voice rose curiously. It was painfully obvious as to what she was suggesting.

I laughed at her and shook my head. “Books, Quinn. Just books.”

“Well, you’ve never seemed this...interested.”

Scoffing, I shook my head again and slouched back into the lawn chair, making like I was going to read again.

Quinn reached over and snatched the book, which nearly made me turn over the lawn chair when I scrambled to grab it back.

“Lucifer’s Revenge,” she read and then looked up at me in shock, her mouth so wide I thought she might break her jaw. “Oh my God, are you joining a cult?”

“What? No! It’s fiction,” I explained as I, again, reached to claim the book.

 I thought about how normally I would have let her take it. I would have been mature and crossed my arms until she got bored and tossed it back. This was different, though. I almost felt possessive.

She dropped the book in my lap like it was a snake or her dad’s dirty underwear. “I’m going to believe you’re in a cult unless you tell me why you spend so much time at the library.”

It’s the kind of thing she’d joke about with Zoey and Noel. I was weird enough, I didn’t need everyone thinking I worshiped Satan. Then again, I didn’t want Quinn to tease me about Bash. My safety was the books, but she wasn’t buying it.

 I made a frustrated noise in the back of my throat, which only confirmed that I was, in fact, trying to hide something from her; because like a dog’s ears perk up when they hear the word “walk”, her head tilted a little to the right and she removed her sunglasses. Her green eyes sparkled.

There was only one way to save myself. Turn Bash into something unappealing.

“I’m friends with a librarian there,” I said, cringing at the way it sounded.

Now I was the girl who watched History Channel, stayed in with her cat, and made friends with librarians. I wasn’t dumb. I knew social suicide when I saw it. I cared a lot about how people saw me. I only wished they’d lack interest in me the same way I lacked interest in them.

“You’re kidding.”

I shook my head. This was better than relentless prodding into my love life, the complete tearing of the curtain between personal and social life.

“Please come to the waterpark with us tomorrow.” She had this concerned look on her face I’m not sure I’d ever seen take form before. It was almost as bad as the look on my mother’s face whenever I told her I cut a friend loose. For being a woman who did that a lot herself, you’d think she’d feel indifferent about it.

I sighed and pushed my hair up off my neck. The heat was only frustrating me more. The more she insisted, the more I wanted to escape.

“Quinn...”

“A librarian friend on top of satanic book choices.” She shook her head. “Jovie, I’m not going to lie here, you’re worrying me.”

I groaned and flipped my legs over the side of the lawn chair, sitting up. “Oh, just because I don’t spend all day gawking at boys and educating myself on the people in Ashwood Creek doesn’t mean I’m crazy. It’s just boring. Everything about it feels ridiculous.”

Her eyebrows furrowed together. She didn’t seem insulted, but she wasn’t exactly happy with me either. “God, sometimes you’re so pretentious.” Her voice had a bite. “You’re not any better than me because you’ve functioned like a human algorithm machine since preschool.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and let out a breath. “Quinn, that’s not what I was saying—”

 “Good grief,” she continued as she stood up. “Take a break from your mommy issues and live a little.”

Something in me snapped, and I jerked away from Quinn’s hand when she tried to put a hand on my shoulder. “Excuse me?”

Her eyebrows pinched together. “What?”

“Mommy issues?” The words left a bad taste in my mouth.

She let out an exaggerated groan and rolled her eyes. “C’mon, Jovie. Your desperate search for perfection and order stems from some unresolved issues with your mom—like everything you do is for her approval. I’ve known you my whole life. It’s not hard to miss. You’ve made her your identity. Jo.”

I gripped the side of the lawn chair so hard my knuckles turned white. “I don’t want to go to the waterpark,” I said as I grabbed my book and stood.

“Where are you going?” Quinn’s voice followed me as I turned and walked toward the sidewalk, away from her house.

“Home,” I called back. “I’ll see you later.”

“Jovie!”

My resentment broke forth from their chains when I tossed a bitter look over my shoulder and said, “I’ve got mommy issues to sort out.”

She was right and I was ashamed. It was something I didn’t like thinking about, something I hoped people wouldn’t notice about me.

 I avoided Quinn for a little while after that, too embarrassed and too guarded to discuss it. Walking away from things was something I had perfected over the years. I was very good at it.  

●════════●♥●════════●

I met Bash outside the library for the first time a couple days after the incident with Quinn. It was strange seeing him in something other than button downs and khakis and without his trusty sidekick: the book cart. I’d gotten so used to seeing him as part of the library that removing him from that place made him intimidating. Suddenly, I didn’t know who he was.

We rendezvoused at the park beside the library, a location in town both of us were familiar with. I remember being nervous. It was unlike me to meet up with anyone other than Quinn. But, after what Quinn said days before, it made me think perhaps it wasn’t unlike me. Perhaps it was unlike my mother. Somehow, it made me feel a little more confident about meeting Bash that day.

I rode my bike there which left my short hair windswept. Yet, the breeze wasn’t enough to fight the heat. He was waiting on one of the many small walk bridges that crossed a creek running through the park. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail and his eyes shielded by a pair of aviator sunglasses. When he saw me near the bridge he smiled brightly.

“You look radiant!” He called out to me.

It was a silly thing to call me, really. My hair was a mess and I didn’t dress up for him. I was just me in a tank top and shorts, sweating in the humidity. I wouldn’t call that radiant, but the compliment still had its desired effect.

I shook my head but goosebumps surfaced on my skin and my lips turned up. He had a way of making me feel like I had just drunk ice water—my throat felt tight, yet there was a feeling of odd satisfaction.

“What is it you want?” I asked as I came to stand beside him, unsure of how to approach him now. Usually he smelled like dusty books and linen, but not this time. The proximity revealed a musky amber scent with detergent undertones and the faintest trace of tobacco. It was like meeting him for the first time.

“Just to see you, Jovial.” His voice was light. His forearms rested on the railing and I placed a hand beside them.

“Cute,” I said and scrunched my nose.

“I like it when you do that,” he said, tapping his own nose.

The goosebumps reappeared, so I tucked my hair behind my ear and crossed my arms. “You’re weird.”

He shrugged and then straightened and turned to lean against the railing with his backside. “I thought I might invite you on an adventure. You seem as though you need one.”

I scoffed and turned to lean with him. “Oh, really?”

He laughed a little. “How do you feel about catching a bus into Winsor tomorrow morning? See a couple bands perform at a music festival?”

My eyes grew at the request and I got a nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach. My first instinct was to say no. How could I “catch a bus” with a person I barely knew? It was wildly irresponsible, and I couldn’t give him an answer without getting permission first. I felt like a child, and that alone made me feel inadequate enough to find a way out of it. It was absurd to even consider.

“Uh, sorry,” I began, fingers clenching tight onto my arm and eyes focusing hard on a tree a couple of yards away. “I don’t think that’s possible for me.”

“We could be back at any time,” he told me. “Winsor is only an hour from here. If you need to be back before sometime—I’m not saying we, you know, get tangled up in any trouble—just listen to music. Dance maybe. I’d just really love to...get better acquainted.”

He removed his sunglasses halfway through his speech and hung them on his shirt. He now looked at me with a sincere gaze, blue eyes trying convince and reassure. He was someone you felt like you could never say no to. There was something about him that made me want to break all of my personal rules, to upset the balance. I’d never met someone as intoxicatingly genuine as him. It was dangerous, but I felt myself cracking.

Tomorrow was a Friday. My mother would be working until seven. Maybe she didn’t have to know. Maybe nobody did and it could be my secret. I’d never done anything like that before, my mind was buzzing with the possibility.

I was so conflicted knowing that the right thing to do was to accept that I couldn’t go. But, what was there for me in Ashwood Creek right now?

Nothing.

Was it really upsetting the balance? It was summer. Everything would turn slowly until the school year started, again. Maybe I could afford to do something out of the ordinary.

This wasn’t like me, but my mother never had to find out. If she didn’t find out, I could do anything. I had no obligations. I could say yes.

“I hate to put you in a state of ambivalence,” Bash said after things had been silent between us for some time. Only the sound of the creek and rustling leaves kept my mind from floating away before he said something and brought me back to the ground.

“I...” My mind was still clouded. “What time does the bus leave?”

“Nine.”

I nodded to myself, thinking that my mother left at eight thirty every morning without fail. That gave me enough time to bike to the bus station.

My stomach was in knotted, but my mind was made up. “I’ll see you then.”