Page 27

WAVERLY

M r. Bergamen dropped Gates off a little after eleven the next morning.

“We already fed him breakfast so he’s good to go,” he reported, handing over Gates’s backpack as my brother streaked past us into the house without a word of greeting and immediately pounded up the stairs.

“Thank you,” I told Mr. Bergamen since I’m sure my brother had forgotten to do so. “I really appreciate it. I hope he had fun with Jackson.”

“Oh, those two always have a good time when they get together,” he answered with a ready smile, already backing away toward the porch steps to leave. “You take care now, you hear.” He waved before drifting a speculative gaze over me that felt as if it had some male awareness in it.

Startled and a little unnerved about getting checked out by my brother’s best friend’s dad, I hugged Gates’s backpack to me and smiled weakly. “Okay. Bye.”

I quickly shut the door between us and made sure to lock it.

But what the hell?

Men did not look at me like that. They rarely even noticed me at all. Much less seemed to admire what they saw when they did.

It made me wonder if he could tell what I’d done last night. Maybe my exploits with Keene were somehow seeping through my skin and giving it a funky pallor.

Feeling exposed, I rubbed the goosebumps on my arms as I hauled Gates’s book bag through the house to the nook by the back door where we hung jackets and stashed all our school stuff. Making sure to circle the island as I passed through the kitchen, I found no dead bodies and carried on.

But seriously, what if people could simply look at me and tell I’d hooked up with someone? Like I had a certain letter stamped on my forehead or something.

Gasping, I slapped my hand over the side of my neck and paused to glance in the mirror Mom had hanging in the great room. Because what if Keene had given me a hickey or beard burn that hadn’t gone away yet?

Squinting, I searched for a rash or abraded skin, only to jump in surprise when I saw my reflection.

Yeah, I definitely was not used to having bangs yet.

Wondering if the haircut was what had caused Mr. Bergamen to give me a second look, I ran the strands Oaklynn had shortened between two fingers. They sure did give me a whole new vibe.

And still… I bet Keene wouldn’t even notice them when he next saw me.

Except, wait, did I even want to see him again? Because I don’t think I did. The idea of having to face him after what had happened sent panic through my stomach. I mean, what if he took one look at me and knew I’d been the one who’d deceived him?

No.

Just no.

Not happening.

Setting a hand against my abdomen as everything inside me roiled with unease, I drew in a few deep breaths, deciding not to think about it. Because hell, it was possible we may never cross paths again.

Just because he religiously visited the library where I worked and was roommates with the only friend I had didn’t mean seeing him was inevitable.

If luck was on my side, last night had been the last time I ever laid eyes on the man.

Except shit. With my luck, I was doomed. I was going to have to drop out of school, flee the country, and work for goat farmers in Sweden if I wanted to avoid him.

I didn’t even know if Sweden had goats.

Trudging upstairs, I veered right toward Gates’s room to glance inside and make sure he was okay.

Camped out on his bed, he sprawled against the headboard, his back padded with pillows as he played on his tablet.

A headset swaddled his hair from ear to ear, and he was screeching out his encouragement to someone else, making me think he was playing an online game.

Probably with Jackson who he’d just been with.

I waved to get his attention. “Hey. Good morning,” I called since he hadn’t even acknowledged me when he’d gotten home. “It’s nice to see you too.”

Glancing up, he rolled his eyes and sighed. “Just a sec.” He pulled one earphone away from his head, finally addressing me with a harassed, “ What ?”

“Nothing,” I mumbled. “Just saying hi.”

“Hi.” Rolling his eyes, he plopped the headset back into place, only to lift it away from his ear and claim, “I’m hungry.”

My brow furrowed. “I thought you ate breakfast at the Bergamen’s.”

He blinked in confusion. “Yeah. So?”

With a sigh, I muttered, “Okay. What do you want?”

He made a face as if the question was crazy. “I don’t know.”

I lifted my eyebrows. “Well, I’m sorry, I don’t know how to cook that.”

“Seriously?” He sent me a dry look. “I don’t care. I’m just starving—Oh!” he wailed suddenly, noticing something on his tablet. “Dude, did you just see that explosion? Was that you? No, it wasn’t me. I swear.”

I figured he was lost to me from there, so I started to turn away, only for him to glance up. “Cheetos,” he called.

Cheetos. That I could handle.

I didn’t even care if Mom wouldn’t approve; at least it wasn’t popcorn that could get caught in his braces. I returned downstairs to the kitchen, played merry-go-round with the island, and fetched the bag of cheesy corn puffs from the highest shelf in the cupboard before toting it upstairs.

Without a word, I stepped about a foot into Gates’s room and tossed the unopened bag onto his knee.

Glancing up briefly, he smiled—actually smiled his approval—and even gave me a thumbs-up. “Right on.”

Snagging the bag, he ripped the Cheetos open and started to snarf them down, his fingers instantly coated with bright orange dust.

Yep. I knew the way to his heart.

Feeling good about making my brother happy, I finally retreated to my room, where I picked up my phone from the nightstand and idly checked the internet to find out, yes, Sweden did in fact have goats. About a hundred commercial farms’ worth with an estimated population of twenty thousand.

Surely, with that number, the Swedes would be willing to take on an eager, new shepherding apprentice, hungry to learn the ins and outs of goat herding; I’d help round them up for…well, whatever reason goats were rounded up.

Probably for the slaughter.

And, hey, slaughter day might feed my unnatural obsession with death, and then I wouldn’t be so curious and obsessed anymore. Win-win.

That’s it. I should totally move to Sweden.

I was uploading Duolingo onto my phone so I could learn to speak Swedish when Marsha’s name appeared on the screen with an incoming call.

“No…” I gave a groan of defeat.

Usually, a call from my supervisor at the library meant one thing. I was getting summoned to work for someone else who couldn’t make it.

Gnashing my teeth, I waited a moment before answering. “Hello?” Despite how much I didn’t want to go to work on my weekend off, Marsha was a super nice supervisor, so I made sure to sound as pleasant as possible when I spoke to her.

“Waverly, hon?” she said, her West Texas twang thick and strong today. “Huntley called in sick for his shift from one to three this afternoon. Do you think you could fill in for him? It’s only two hours until Madison can come in to relieve you.”

I had a feeling I was the first person she always called when looking for a replacement.

Because I was boringly reliable. But today, I was relieved to have an out.

“I’m sorry, I have to watch my little brother today,” I told her, hoping she couldn’t hear the elation in my voice.

“My parents are out of town until tomorrow.”

There was a pause, and I could hear Marsha’s brain scrambling frantically to think up another replacement. Finally, she asked, “He’s eleven, right?”

I blinked, surprised at how good her memory was. I think we’d only ever had one conversation about our families, and I’d barely mentioned having a brother.

“Yeah,” I answered hesitantly, wondering what that had to do with anything.

“Oh.” Relief flooded her voice. “Well, just bring him along, sweetie. My son’s that age and rarely ever takes his nose out of his games. You could set him up in a private study room, and he’d probably never even notice the scene change.”

I bit my lip to contain my whimper of defeat and silently cursed my luck. “Are you sure?”

“It’s only two hours. Y’all will be just fine. Thanks so much for this, Waverly. You’re a lifesaver.”

And she hung up on me before I’d officially agreed to come in.

Well, alright. I guess I was going to the library today. Heaving out a depressed breath, I slapped my phone onto the bed beside me and gave my innocent ceiling a mean mug.

After another thirty seconds of throwing a pity party for myself, I rose regretfully from the mattress and returned to Gates’s room.

He didn’t notice me entering.

“Hey.” I slapped at his sock-covered feet lightly to get his attention.

It took a few seconds, but he finally looked up with an aggravated, “What?”

“I got called into work at the university for a couple of hours this afternoon,” I told him.

He blinked at me before shaking his head cluelessly. “Okay. Why are you telling me ?”

I rolled my eyes. “Because you have to come with me, moron. Mom and Dad won’t be home until tomorrow.”

He furrowed his brow as if that were news to him before his gaze finally cleared. “Oh yeah.” He nodded slowly, only to wrinkle his nose. “Why can’t I just stay home? It’s only for a few hours.”

My mouth fell open at the question. “Because Mom and Dad would kill me for leaving you home alone,” I squawked.

He shrugged. “So don’t tell them.”

I sent him a dismayed glance. “And when they see me leaving alone on the cameras and ask why you didn’t go to work with me, then what do I tell them?

” I demanded. “That you were wearing your invisibility cloak? I don’t think so.

Besides, the one time I leave you alone, I swear the house will burn down, incinerating you to death, or thieves will break in and kidnap you, only to sell you off to some sex-slave trade, which would cost us millions to buy you back.

So no. No way in hell am I leaving you home alone. ”