The farmhouse where the Nelsons live is about a mile off the main road.
It’s on a dirt road. One that you would miss if you didn’t know exactly where it was. Shane told me that when he was in elementary school, the school bus wouldn’t travel that extra mile up the dirt road to the farmhouse. He used to have to walk that mile every morning to get to the bus stop, then another mile back home in the afternoon. Even if there was a foot of snow on the ground.
It made me feel guilty when Shane told me about it. After all, the school bus used to stop right outside my door. I walked exactly fifteen feet to get from my door to the bus in the morning, and I still used to whine about it. And Shane walked a mile. But he didn’t tell me to make me feel bad. He just said it in that matter-of-fact way he always tells me things about his life.
“You sure Shane’s mom is gone?” Chelsea asks as the tires of her Beetle slip on the dirt road. The rain hasn’t quite started, but the air outside has turned into a fine mist.
“Yep. He texted me that she left.”
Mrs. Nelson is nice. The times I’ve been to her house, she’s always been kind to me in a way that my parents would never be kind to Shane. But she’s not nice enough that she would be okay with six random teenagers spending the night in her house. Especially since Brandon surely brought alcohol.
The farmhouse where Shane lives looks like it has seen better days. It might have once been a brilliant red, but now the paint has worn away to practically white in some places and just bare wood in others. The roof is crooked and covered in moss, and it looks like one powerful storm could easily rip it right off. The window frames all look a little crooked as well,
like whoever built the farmhouse wasn’t quite sure how to put everything together properly but they were giving it their best college try.
As Chelsea pulls up beside Shane’s Chevy, the door to the farmhouse swings open. Shane appears in the doorway and his eyes light up. He waves vigorously. “Come on! Before the rain starts!”
I grab my backpack and climb out of the car, slamming the door behind me. I look up at the sky, and the clouds look heavy—they’re about to break open at any second. I pick my way through the dirt pathway to the front door, my backpack on my shoulder. Shane grabs it from me when I reach the door.
“Let me take that, Brooke,” he says with a grin.
“What a gentleman!” Chelsea declares. She gives Tim a pointed look, and he dutifully holds out his arm to Kayla, who dumps her gigantic duffel bag in his arms. I swear to God, that girl has packed enough stuff for a month.
After we’re inside the house, I shut the screen door behind us. Even though I’ve watched Shane fix that screen door with my own eyes, it always seems to hang off the hinges. I suspect the entire door needs to be replaced, but he doesn’t have the money for it. Mrs. Nelson already works two minimum wage jobs and they need Shane’s salary at the pizza parlor just to pay for rent and food.
As I turn the lock on the front door, Shane grabs me and pulls me in for a kiss. I melt like I always do. And he smells nice tonight. Not that he doesn’t always smell good, but he smells extra nice tonight. It’s that aftershave he sometimes uses.
“I love your aftershave,” I murmur. “It’s sandalwood scented.”
I frown. “What’s sandalwood?”
“I don’t know. The wood you make sandals from?” “So basically, you smell like feet?”
He laughs. “Hey, you’re the weirdo who likes it…”
Shane kisses me again, but when I pull away, I get an uneasy feeling. A prickly sensation on the back of my neck. Like somebody’s watching me. I jerk my head around. Tim is standing across the room, staring at us,
an unreadable expression on his face. But when our eyes meet, he quickly
looks away. Good thing, because I wouldn’t want Shane to know he was staring at us that way.
“So,” Shane says, “you brought Tim, huh?”
There’s disapproval in Shane’s dark eyes. Tim hates Shane, but it’s not like Shane is any big fan of Tim’s either. I need to change that.
“He’s a good guy,” I say, a touch defensively. “Hmm.”
“Also, Chelsea brought Kayla along for him. For, you know…”
Shane is quiet for a moment. “Okay,” he says. “That’s fine. We have three bedrooms anyway.”
I let out a sigh of relief. Shane doesn’t usually get too worked up over stuff, but you never know. After all, I’ve only been dating him for three months. There’s still plenty of time for his dark side to come out. But so far, I haven’t seen it. Despite Tim’s ominous warnings.
“Hey, Reese!” Shane holds up a hand in greeting. “Glad you could make it.”
I finger the snowflake necklace around my throat as Shane saunters over to Tim. Shane is making an effort because he knows Tim is important to me, and I appreciate that. The two of them start talking, and it looks friendly enough. I can’t hear what they’re saying—Shane is speaking quietly and Tim is responding in an equally hushed tone. I strain to hear them over the sound of Chelsea and Kayla chatting a few feet away from me, but it’s no use. They’re talking too quietly.
But it doesn’t matter what they’re saying. They’re not fighting, and that’s all that’s important.
I consider going over to join them, but before I can contemplate it further, the door to the kitchen swings open with a loud creak. Brandon bursts into the room, carrying two pizza boxes balanced in one hand and a bottle of vodka in the other.
“Ready to have some fun?” he calls out.
Shane jerks up his head at the sound of Brandon’s voice. He backs away from Tim as if I’ve caught him doing something illicit, and he makes a beeline for the pizza and vodka. Whatever conversation the two of them were having is apparently over.
