Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 114211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
“She said I’m a who?”
“Bad influence on me, more or less,” I grumble, drop onto the couch next to Juni, then reach for the TV remote. “Don’t matter, it ain’t true.”
She seems confused by that. “I don’t wanna be a bad anything on anyone.”
“So that was the end of that conversation. Shit, just realized I left my church clothes there, too. Oh well. I’ll get ‘em later.” After jamming my thumb into the remote eight times, the TV finally comes on. I toss the remote back onto the pile on the coffee table, not bothering to change the channel. It’ll be too much work and my thumb is tired. Arms are tired. Everything’s tired.
When I realize Juni hasn’t responded, I notice her looking sad. Oh, shit, did I just mistake her sadness for confusion? “Hey, don’t worry about what she said, Juni-cat. She don’t know you one bit. Neither does my mom. Why do you think I rarely go home to see ‘em? No one gets us like we get us.”
Juni picks at her nails, pouting. “I said goodbye to my daddy a long time ago. He’s probably still just wasting away at the same ol’ trailer park. My momma’s probably working a corner. But not right now.” Her eyes flick to the window. “Not Sundays.”
Juni rarely talks about her parents. After just those couple of sentences, I’m not sure I want her to. “No one’s gotta understand us. We just do our own thing, y’know? Be Independent Barbie …”
“My daddy once said money changes a person, but it doesn’t.” She curls her hair around a finger, staring into space. “It sure does change the people around them, though.”
“Or Money Bags Barbie. The fuck kinda show is this?” I mutter to myself, squinting at the TV. “People actin’ like idiots …”
“Or maybe I’m wrong and it did change me.”
“Maybe no one ever changes no matter what.” I turn and look at her again. “We’re all the damned same from birth until we die. Born a loser, live a loser, die a loser.”
Her eyes darken when she returns my look. “Oh my goodness, what a sad little thought that is. I hope it isn’t true. I think I’d like to change a little.” Then she frowns. “Shouldn’t you be napping? You took on that extra shift tonight.”
I smile. “See? Mrs. Tucker’s wrong. You care about me.”
“Aw, yeah, I do,” she agrees, as if it’s a discovery. “Who’s Mrs. Tucker again?”
“And I don’t think it’s a sad little thought. It’s the dang truth.” I sigh as I lean my head back, giving up on whatever’s on TV. “No one and nothin’ ever changes. Sure as hell not here in this town.”
“Use Roger,” she suggests, grabbing one of her cat pillows and sliding it under my head. “Roger helps me sleep when I’m feeling down or horny.”
“Uh … what do you do with this pillow exactly …?”
“Do you really think none of us ever change?”
I give it a thought. Mrs. Tucker’s words are rolling through my head like tiny cars hissing down a country road, full speed. My failure as a veterinarian. My failure trying to enlist. My failure to make a difference at a stupid bachelor pageant. How many more failures do I have to endure before I stop trying to do anything at all with my life? Who’s even rooting for me anymore? Noah and Cole are up each other’s butts all day long—and don’t get me wrong, I’m happy about that, but they have no time for me. And I doubt anyone’s truly forgiven me for how I behaved at the movie theater, considering Mr. Lemon still looks down on me.
My thoughts suddenly snap to the out-of-towner.
The bastard I can’t stand.
And how he looked at me when I first entered the church this morning, when I was dead-ass tired and exhausted from the walk there—Juni was still asleep and wouldn’t wake up to drive me—I swear it looked like he didn’t even recognize me at first. Like he saw a new person walking through that church door. Like for a fraction of a second, he caught himself admiring me for once.
And how’s that supposed to make me feel?
Grateful?
That he finally decided to see me as a human being?
Even the whole time during the service, I spotted him sitting with Reverend Trey’s husband, looking cozy and proud. Thinking about him sitting there enjoying himself, feeling important, made me want to smack the handsome straight off his undeserving face. I don’t live for his condescending, surprised glances of admiration at me, like he didn’t believe I was capable of looking so good.
I’m a hottie when I want to be. I just choose who deserves to see me at my best, that’s all.
And Sunday mornings at Spruce Fellowship always deserve it.
Maybe people like him never change, either.