SADIE SLIDES INTO her Honda Accord and backs out of the driveway. Stopping briefly to have words with the old lady across the street, she says she’ll bring her some baking soda. “Can you remember that?” Sadie asks me. “I’d hate to disappoint Mrs. Fletcher.” I pull out my phone, making a list in the notes section.

“Baking soda, check,” I say.

“Thanks. Mrs. Fletcher is so sweet and nice. She’s known Brady and Grant since they were boys. All the guys kind of look after her. She’s only here half of the year, the other half she stays with her brother up in Salt Fork Lake.” She brakes at the stop sign, looks both ways, and then continues on. “She would give the boys treats and lemonade in the summer. She sells her baked goods at the farmers market. Oh, which reminds me, next weekend is the last one and she asked me if I could do it because she wanted to head up to Salt Fork Lake before the weather turned. Brady has a work thing, and Jessa’s as big as a house.” She stops rambling and peers over to me for a second before focusing on the road again. “Do you think you could help me?”

“Um …” I stagger because I had plans of leaving tonight.

“Oh … do you have someone to get back to?” She keeps up the twenty questions, and I’m half-tempted to tell her about my shitty life, so that maybe I’ll get a reprieve from her inquisition.

“No. It’s just, Dex—” she quickly interrupts me.

“Dex had said something to Brady that you might stay for a while.” She pulls into the parking lot, parks, turns off the ignition, and stares over at me.

“Really?” I cringe from the mere surprise of that confession.

“Yeah. The room was empty anyway, it can be yours for however long you need it.” Sadie places her hand on my knee. “I understand the need to just run away sometimes.” I bite my lip; I hate taking hand outs. “Please, Brady nor I mind. Plus, it’d be nice to have another girl around again.” Then she pulls back, grabs her purse from the backseat and exits the car.

She’s surprisingly super nice, and the fact she didn’t rush me into answering if I would stay has me wanting to stick around. If not to have some solitude, then from scraping by paycheck to paycheck.

Sadie leads the way through produce and meat. Each of us grabbing the ingredients we need. She talks about herself, never directing a question my way. She says how she and Brady are engaged, which I already knew. If the huge rock on her finger didn’t clue me in, the incessant conversations four months ago at Trey’s did. How she just started her master’s this fall for psychology, which only worries me that she thinks maybe I’m her mental case project. By the time we make it to the check-out, I know everything there is to know about all of their friends. The only one she doesn’t say much about is Dex. I wonder if she thinks I already know everything there is to know about him, but I don’t. I’m not sure I’ve ever known the whole Dexter “Edge” Prescott. One thing I do know, though, is that these friends know nothing about the side of his life I’m familiar with.

When we’re pulling into the driveway, my nerves have calmed and I’m beginning to feel comfortable with Sadie. What does alarm me is the fact that my car is now parked in the garage with two—scrap that—three guys glowering under the hood. My hands dig in my purse, quickly discovering my keys are no longer where I left them. “Well, that’s a nice scene,” Sadie comments at their three asses positioned right in our line of vision.

“I’d say so,” I remark. We both pick up our jaws and open our doors, the noise making all of the boys turn around. Dex raises his eyes to meet mine. A small smirk begins to form as I shake my head in amusement, spurring a hearty laugh to bellow out of Dex.

CHRISSY AND SADIE meander up, holding the plastic bags heavy with the groceries. Grabbing them from her hands, I’m happy she’s wearing a smile on her face. She’s stubborn as an old man about his right to drive when it comes to certain things, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think I may have overstepped my bounds. Whether she leaves tonight, or in a week, I can’t in good faith let her go in this piece of shit.

“Thank you,” she graciously says in a low voice just for me to hear.

“No problem.” I shrug off the imposition, as though we didn’t just figure out it needs a crap load of work.

“How the hell has this thing been getting you anywhere?” Rob yells from under the car. He slides out and wipes his greasy hands on a towel.

“It’s been touchy lately.” Chrissy bites her lower lip, and he tilts his head.

“Touchy? You’re lucky you weren’t stranded on the side of the Ohio Turnpike somewhere.” Rob walks over to us. “I can get it fixed, but it will take a few days.” Chrissy’s eyes bulge, and Rob quickly replies back, giving an alternative that won’t happen.

“Or, you can leave and you can call a tow truck once you hit I-77.” He raises both his eyebrows her way, looking at her like this should be a no-brainer.

“This is perfect. You can stay in Trey’s old room.” Sadie ecstatically joins in, handing her bags to Brady.

I glance over to Sadie in complete confusion as to why she wants to befriend Chrissy so bad. “Um …” Chrissy wavers, debating her alternatives, quickly figuring out there aren’t any.

“Oh, come on,” Sadie consistently begs. Anyone who knows Chrissy knows she’s wary of anyone that shows instant niceness.

“What choice do I have?” she questions, finally realizing without her car, she’s not very mobile.

“YAY!” Sadie jumps and then places her hand in Chrissy’s, leading her into the house. Chrissy stumbles and glances at me like a doe in headlights. Probably curious about this instant friendship Sadie has developed with her.

Brady and I follow with the bags and place them on the kitchen counter. “I’m um … going to help Rob outside,” I say and begin to turn around before ever getting a response.

“You got this, babe? I’ll join the guys,” Brady asks, kissing her on the cheek before making his retreat too.

“You okay with this man?” Brady pats his hand on my shoulder, coming along side of me as we head toward the garage.

Rob’s leaning against the doorframe, gulping down a beer. “So?” His eyes stay on mine while taking another pull of his longneck beer.

“What?” I’m trying to act impartial, like I don’t give a damn. If they know my past, they might assume my present and then predict my future. Not happening.

“The girl? You pick her up, bring her back here. Do her laundry, fetch her car, ask me to fix it. Who is she?”

“Just like I told you, an old friend,” I remind him, and he chuckles, kicking himself off the wall.

“All right, keep going with that.” He lays back down and slides under the car.

“So, you’re okay with her staying? Because you know Sadie, I’m pretty sure it will be longer than a few days,” Brady adds, bending over to take a look under the open hood.

“If you don’t mind. I’ll pay the rent—”

“You know I don’t want the money. I’m not going to pry into whatever it is with you and her. Just want to make sure you’re okay with this.”

“I’m good.” I leave it at that, and the guys understand it’s the end of the conversation.

The three of us end up working for the next hour, making more progress than I thought we would. An odd feeling of dread hits when Rob says he’ll probably be done earlier than expected. He’s secured a friend tomorrow to give him a hand.

We all venture back into the house where the girls are seated around the table, knives in hand, chopping away on cutting boards. Laughter pouring out of each of them. It’s nice to see Chrissy like this. Although our relationship has been non-existent the past few years, I want nothing more than for her to be happy and secure in the future.