“My keys,” she says. “I need something to cut open the box.”

I don’t even think, I just reach deep into my pocket and pull out my Swiss Army knife, the one Dad gave me when I was thirteen, before I decided the Scouts were lame. I toss it to her and she gives me the biggest smile ever, all bright eyes and rosy cheeks and goddamn she’s hot. I try to shake off the sudden punch to my gut that just keeps fucking happening around her, and watch as she makes short work of the twine and cuts open the flaps of the box.

Curious, because I’ve never actually been able to stay out of trouble, I lean forward to take a look.

That . . . wasn’t what I was expecting. I’m not entirely sure what I thought was going to be in the box, but cartons of garbage bags wasn’t it. But Star’s still acting like a little kid who just got a pony or something, smiling like crazy as she pulls item after item out of the box. Garbage bags. Twine. And about a million different colors of permanent marker.

“Um . . . ” I don’t actually know what I’m supposed to say here. “Did you get a care package from rent-a-hoarder or something?” I ask, and then immediately regret it. I need to shut up. I need to just not talk anymore. Why was I never taught that whole if you don’t have anything nice to say, keep your mouth shut rule like other kids? Why didn’t that shit sink in?

But Star just laughs and starts sorting through her new treasure trove. “Not exactly,” she says. “It’s from Autumn. My roommate. I told her that I had to clean out my mother’s house, but never told her how bad it was. But somehow . . . ”

“She knew.” Must be nice, to have someone like that.

Star nods, and her smile is so big it looks like the fucking sun. “Yeah,” she says, grabbing one of the boxes of garbage bags and tossing it to me. “She just knew.”

***

I don’t know what it was, whether it was the package or hearing from her roommate or what, but Star’s smile just went on and on. Even when we found the giant plastic bin full of comic books—good ones—that had been destroyed by being stored outside, she didn’t falter. She just kind of shook her head and helped me dig them out of the bin and junked them. Which was fucking criminal, since hey would have been expensive. And I’d know. I used to collect them when I was a kid, and my mother was always harping on about how much money I was wasting. But at least I took care of my comic books. These? These had been turned into pulp. And the way Star’s finger trailed down one of the covers before she threw it into the trash, I could tell it was something she would have liked. Maybe not now, but once upon a time, if things had been different.

Seeing her like that, smiling even though I knew she was having a hard time with it, made me wonder about my own collection, and if my parents still had it kicking around somewhere. I spent a few minutes mentally cataloging what I had left, and wondering if Star would like it before I realized what I was doing and shook the train of thought right out of my head.

Fucking stop it, I tell myself, hauling the empty plastic bin over to the side of the house so that I can wash it out with the hose. She’s not your girlfriend. She isn’t ever going to be anything close, so just drop it. You’re being an idiot.

I just have to get through the rest of the summer without fucking up and giving myself away. One wrong move and she’ll know I am into her, and I won’t be the guy helping her out anymore, I’ll be the creepy ex-con who hangs around her house and makes her uncomfortable. And I don’t want to be that guy.

You already are that guy, my brain supplies and I grimace and shove that feeling deep down inside myself. This is supposed to be my chance to start over. I’m not going to mess it up because I’m into the girl who is willing to give me a chance to redeem myself. No way in hell.

I reach down and grab another box and heft it up into my arms. I just have to keep working. That’s all there is to it. Eventually the feelings that are pulling at my gut will fade. They always do.

I just have to wait it out.

Star

It was almost completely dark out when we finally stopped for the day, exhausted. I was drenched with sweat, and I bid Ash an exhausted farewell as he pulled away from the curb, then headed back to the B&B to grab a shower before making my way over to the diner for a late dinner.

I have my laptop out in front of me by the time my food arrives, my email to Autumn waiting to be sent.

You’re ridiculous, you know that, right? I had written.

I can’t believe you sent me all that stuff.

How’s life in Climbfield? Have you managed to drive Roth bonkers yet? If so, send pics. I need to see his angry-face. It’s like Grumpy Cat and must be commemorated for posterity.

I miss yooooou.

<3 Star

It is stupid, but even after only a couple of weeks, I miss my roommate like crazy. I’ve barely known her a year, but we’re already closer than I have ever been with anyone, save for maybe my foster brother Brick when I was sixteen, before he disappeared from my life. And the fact that Autumn somehow always knows what I need, well . . . It is good to have someone like her in my life. Even if keeping in contact with her while I’m in Avenue is starting to become a huge pain in my butt. I still haven’t managed to find good Wi-Fi, and my cell phone is pretty much out as I am roaming to the highest degree imaginable. I only brought the damn thing for emergencies. It is probably a good thing that Ash had just shown up instead of calling me. After all the money I’m spending trying to get the house cleaned up, I don’t need a gargantuan cell phone bill on top of it.

After ten minutes struggling to stay connected to the diner’s Wi-Fi, I finally manage to get my email to go through, and I close my laptop victoriously and celebrate with a handful of half-decent fries from my plate.

I need to come up with a better plan than constantly eating at the diner. I spent a good portion of the past year trying to wage war against the freshman fifteen—and being only partially successful, but I figure seven pounds isn’t the end of the world—and it would suck to succumb to it now that my first year of college is officially over.

But honestly, at this point, I think the main reason I keep coming back to the diner is because I know I’m pissing people off. And I’m kinda starting to like doing so. God knows it isn’t because the food is great. When my grilled cheese sandwich came out, it was cold and hard as a rock. And Leslie has been shooting daggers at me with her eyes ever since I sat down, and she still hadn’t brought me out my soda, even though my meal is almost done. So yeah, I am completely okay with pissing her off.

After all, fair’s fair.

She’s been pissing me off pretty badly, too.

Between the grumpy waitress and my ever-dwindling funds, not to mention the fact that it is freaking boiling outside, I’ve just about reached the end of my rope. Again.

This summer is going to be a test of my mettle, I just know it.

I wait until her back is turned before I pull the handful of permanent markers Autumn sent me out of my bag and line them up on the vinyl seat next to me, hidden from view. Watching for her out of the corner of my eye, I take a deliberate bite of my sandwich and fiddle with my laptop, toggling from page to page until she disappears behind the counter to refill a drink. Then I uncap the first marker with a smile and get to work.