“You okay?” I ask.
She glances up, the dark liner having run under her eyes as if she hadn’t bothered to wash it off the night before. Her hair is matted, her skin pale. “Sure,” she answers, her voice heavy with indifference. “Just not sleeping well.”
“Me either.” I pour a cup of coffee, hoping for a caffeine boost.
“Not to mention I was stuck on the side of the road with Dad for several miserable hours last night,” she says. “I had to sit through a lecture about responsibility while we waited for a passerby to rescue us.” She sighs. “I swear I’m going to burn my car for the insurance money. We didn’t get home until after midnight.”
“Yeah, well. I don’t even remember going to sleep last night.” I glance around. “Where is Dad?”
“Church. By the way,” she says, “he wanted me to remind you that you said you were bringing Abe to services tomorrow. Is it getting that serious between you two?”
My stomach knots at the mention of Abe. I feel awful for how I’ve treated him. He brought me donuts, but I was so tired, I’m not even sure what I said to him. I just hope he doesn’t hate me.
“Uh-oh,” Lucy says, standing to cross the room toward me. “What’s changed?”
I lean closer and lower my voice. “I kissed Abe the other night,” I say, my anxiety spiking. Exactly how much do I tell my sister about what’s going on with me?
Lucy’s eyes widen. “You what? And you didn’t wake me up and tell me?” She looks hurt.
“No,” I say. “Because it didn’t go all that well. In fact, I’m not even sure why I let him kiss me in the first place. And when he did . . .” I’m trying to think of the best way to describe it without letting her know I’m a freak. “I got a shock.”
“Like static electricity?”
I shake my head. “No, Lucy, you know how I told you strange things keep happening to me?”
“The reflection, the creepy old woman . . .” she says, gesturing for me to elaborate.
“Well, this was another strange thing. I actually felt repelled by Abe. It was painful to kiss him.”
“Did he hurt you?” She sounds like she might track him down and beat him.
“No. It was me. My body sort of freaked out—cold and shaking—and I ran to my room and locked the door. It was all fairly dramatic and traumatizing.”
“Wow,” she says, leaning against the counter, processing.
“And then yesterday,” I continue. “I talked with that customer I told you about—the one I said I’d probably never see again? Anyway, I bumped into him, and then Abe saw us. He went a little caveman on me. I’m not sure where we stand anymore.”
My sister looks scandalized. “You’ve certainly broken out of your shell.”
“Things have definitely gotten complicated.”
“Sounds like it. Is there anything I can do?”
I shrug. “Rewind time? I wish I never agreed to go out with Abe. How am I supposed to work with him when I feel so horrible about everything?”
“Elise,” Lucy says, before moving toward the fridge. “Abe Weston is a big boy. I’m sure he can handle himself, even if he’s not used to rejection.”
“I hope so.”
Lucy grabs out the entire stack of cold cuts—ham, turkey, salami—and tosses them onto the counter before getting a Coke.
“Hungry?” I ask sarcastically.
“Ravenous. And I want lunch for breakfast.” She pops the top on her drink and starts downing it immediately. Under the edge of her shirtsleeve, I notice a glint of gold.
“Is that a new bracelet?”
She chokes on her sip and then tugs down on her shirt. “Sometimes-boyfriend is getting more serious.” She smiles. “Next time I’m asking for diamonds.”
“Hope he’s worth it,” I say, undoing the tie on the bread, deciding that lunch for breakfast actually sounds pretty perfect.
“He’s not,” she says automatically, and then brings over the meat, slapping it down next to me. “Okay, so Abe is out. What about this other guy? I’m intensely curious about who can make Abe Weston go primal with jealousy.”
We start building our sandwiches, Lucy grabbing a steak knife to dig around in the jar of mayonnaise.
“He rides a motorcycle.”
“And you’re blushing already.” She bumps her shoulder into mine. “He must be sexy.”
“He’s very cute.”
“Elise,” Lucy says. “Cute guys don’t ride on motorcycles. Sexy guys do. Or old guys. I’m guessing he’s sexy, though, right?”
“So sexy.”
“Then I can’t wait to meet him.”
“You sort of have,” I tell her, biting into my sandwich. “He’s the one you almost ran over with your car the other day.”
The morning slips away as I get ready to meet Harlin, butterflies in my stomach. It’s too gloomy outside for a sundress, and I’m afraid a skirt will fly up if he takes me on his Harley. So I opt for soft jeans and a snug T-shirt. I twist my hair into a knot and dab on some of my sister’s perfume.
Lucy’s asleep when I pop my head in to ask if her car is fit to drive, so I snag her keys to try for myself. The Honda purrs to life as if it hadn’t had any trouble the night before, and I start toward Santo’s. I want to pick up my check before going out with Harlin.
The rain starts almost immediately, pelting the windshield with angry splashes. Lucy’s wipers can barely keep up.
When I pull into Santo’s, there are only a few cars in the parking lot. But no motorcycle. My heart dips until I see Harlin standing under the awning near the front door. I drive up to him, stopping as I roll down the passenger window.
“Why in the world are you waiting out here?” I call, my voice barely carrying over the rain.
His mouth stretches into a smile when he ducks down to see it’s me. “I’m not. I just got here. I didn’t want to ride my bike in the rain, so I hitchhiked. Interesting town you have here.”
“I bet it was an adventure.”
He points over his shoulder. “Should we grab some lunch first?”
“At Santo’s?” I cringe at the thought. Other than the fact that I’m entirely sick of Mexican food, Abe might be in there. And he might accidentally-on-purpose drop a plate of enchiladas into Harlin’s lap if we’re together.