Page 3

Chapter Three

Sam flings the front door open with dramatic flair. “I’m in love!”

I laugh. “So, you’ve said.”

Bek stands in the huge entryway behind Sam, her head cocked and a misty expression on her face. “She says this one is the real thing.”

“She always says that.” I raise my eyebrows at Sam, who blocks the doorway with her arms spread wide, her head thrown back, and a grin as bright as the chandelier hanging over their heads. I duck under her arm and enter the house. “So, what is it that makes Andrew special?”

“First, I think he has a master’s degree in the art of kissing.” Sam hugs herself and pretends to swoon.

“Really?” My eyes bug out. Sam has strict dating rules that this knowledge violates. “You know that already?”

Sam shrugs but her grin gives away her excitement. “What can I say? I’m irresistible.”

“What’s second?” Bek asks, as her brow furrows in confusion .

Sam leads us up the large sweeping staircase toward her room. Bek flits along in her wake, but I trip on the first step and end up on my knees. Luckily, the plush carpeting cushions my fall.

“What do you mean, what’s second?” Sam asks. “You okay, Ava?”

“Sure,” I say, tripping up the next step as well, but able to avoid a fall.

“Well,” Bek breathes. “You said, ‘First, he’s a good kisser.’ So, what’s second?”

Sam waves a dismissive hand as she skips across the second-story landing. “There is no second. He’s just a really good kisser.”

I step into Sam’s huge walk-in closet to hang my bag on the hook designated just for me. There is even an adorable wooden plaque hanging over it with my name carved into it. The closet is as big as the bathroom Joel and I share. The thought makes my heart stutter. We won’t be sharing it much longer. I stare at my duffle, but don’t really see it. Instead, I’m imagining what the bathroom will be like with all his stuff gone. No more electric razor or tiny hairs all over the sink. No more cloud of aftershave hanging in the air for five minutes after he showers. No more picking up his wet towel from the floor and hanging it for him. I shake the maudlin thoughts away and decide right then and there that I will not whine or complain about my life to my friends for the entire weekend.

I exit the closet with my chin up. “Sam, I thought you had a solid no-kissing-besides-a-chaste-goodbye-kiss-on-the-first-date rule.”

“I do! I don’t even know how he got around that.” Sam chuckles. “Well, maybe I have some idea. I was totally enamored by the way his lips move when he talks. I might have been staring at them the entire date.” Sam screws up her own lips and crosses her eyes, making me laugh and Bek shake her head. “Perhaps he took that as an invitation.”

I straighten. “He didn’t force you to do anything you didn’t want to do, did he?”

Sam plops her butt onto the bed. “No, honestly, it was only one kiss, but it was a really good one.” She fans herself.

“Will you see him again?” Bek asks.

“I hope so.” Sam collapses backward onto her mattress, her silky blond hair fans out around her. “He said he would text me, but we all know that doesn’t always happen.”

I can’t help my dramatic eye roll. It always happens for Sam.

Bek taps her finger against her lip. “Is this the guy you met at yoga?”

Sam crawls to the head of her bed and settles cross-legged against the tufted headboard. “No, that was Jimmy. Almost a month ago. I met Andrew at the sushi food cart on Division Street.”

“Oh, that’s right.” Bek’s airy voice always reminds me of Snow White, even though with her short sun-streaked tawny hair, she looks nothing like the Disney princess. “Sushi Guy! We should keep calling him that. It helps me to remember.”

“Okay, Bek.” Sam grabs the remote from her bedside table and turns on the television. “We’ll call him Sushi Guy for you. Anyone in the mood for pizza? I’m buying.”

As Sam selects the show we’re binge-watching, I crawl onto the bed to curl up next to her. “I’d love some pizza!’

“No anchovies,” Bek says, as she folds her tiny body into the retro ball lounge chair she always sleeps in.

“We’ve literally never ordered anchovies,” Sam grumbles, as she places the order on her phone.

The drama of the show sucks up all our attention. We reluctantly pause it when Sam’s phone dings with a text that the pizza has been delivered. When she scrambles off the bed, I follow her downstairs to grab drinks while she retrieves the pizza.

The kitchen is dark and cavernous, so I flip on a light to avoid tripping over a chair leg or clipping the counter with my hip. It’s still a little strange to me that we are so often the only ones in the house these days. Sam has four older siblings. The Jones’ house has always been the hang-out house, so it wasn’t just her brothers and sisters who were around—it was their friends as well. There was a constant stream of noise and activity. Lots of laughter, which I miss the most. But, of course, one by one the siblings left home. The house didn’t feel truly empty until about six months ago when Sam’s next older sister moved out, taking her creative energy and flamboyant friends with her. I look around the empty kitchen and sigh. Soon my house will have a more deserted feel to it as well.

Within five minutes, we’re back in Sam’s room.

I hand Bek a can of soda. “Let that settle for a bit. I dropped it.”

After I crawl back onto the bed, Sam shakes out a napkin and tucks it into my collar to catch the inevitable food I’ll drop on myself.

“Do you think Lily will discover the talisman?” Sam asks about the show, just before sinking her teeth into her slice of pizza.

“She has to, right? That talisman is the only way she’ll see all the ghosts that surround her.” I pick up the piece of sausage that rolled into my lap and pop it into my mouth.

Bek shakes her head. “She won’t find it. That would be too easy. But Edward will figure out a way to communicate with her. He’s totally got a thing for her, so he has the most incentive.”

When we continue streaming the show, we learn that, as usual, Bek is right. Sam and I almost never figure out plots, but Bek has a knack.

Sam finally turns the T.V. off in the early morning hours when she notices Bek has fallen asleep curled up like a cat in her favorite chair.

I get up and cover Bek with a blanket, then change into pajamas. When I crawl into the massive bed, Sam lets out a huge yawn.

“Are you volunteering at the shelter tomorrow?” she asks.

“You mean today?” I snicker. “Yeah, I am.”

“Do you need a ride?” Sam yawns again.

“Only if it’s convenient. Otherwise, I’ll walk.” I flip onto my side and pull the covers up under my chin.

Sam shakes her head. “Like I would let you walk. Nine o’clock?”

I blink sleepily, admiring how Sam’s white-blond hair practically glows in the dark. “Yeah.”

“Perfect. Bek and I can stop by that boutique I’ve been wanting to check out after I drop you off.” Sam turns onto her side so that she faces me. “Or should I wait so that we can all go when I pick you up?”

I shake my head. “No, that’s fine. You guys can go in the morning. I could never afford anything from that store.”

“You don’t know that. You’ve never been there.” Sam arches an eyebrow, making me giggle.

“If you find they have five-dollar specials, you can set me straight afterward.”

“Fair enough.” Sam curls into a tighter ball. Her eyelids droop over her pale blue eyes. “Good night, Ava.”

I let a contented smile spread across my face as my own eyelids flutter closed. “Good night, Sam. Thanks for another fun evening.”

As my mind slows before sleep, I think how lucky I am to have Sam’s amazing house and the animal shelter to escape to. I can’t wait to see the animals tomorrow. I can almost hear the barking and feel the wet sweep of tongues. The shelter’s Instagram page announced that they took in a chinchilla, and I’m eager to cradle its soft little body in my hands.

I drop off to sleep with thoughts of romping dogs on my mind.