I nod and backtrack toward the hallway. “Sure, that sounds great. But first I should spend at least an hour deep cleaning the classroom. Can I meet you there?”
She scoffs. “No way. Just come in early Monday morning.”
A responding snort escapes me. “Because that plan is foolproof. Talk about a recipe for disaster.”
“Or a super-wise lesson. You’ll learn really quick that scrubbing every stain isn’t necessary. Ten more will replace them, like cockroaches.”
I shudder at the visual of those creepers streaking across the floor. “Eww, that’s gross.”
Bea bumps me with her shoulder. “See? Perspective. Now those minor smudges don’t seem so bad, huh?”
“You’re selling this madness. That’s for sure.”
“Stick with me, and I’ll get you basking in relief faster. Or in this case—alcohol.”
“All right, you win. I’ll grab my stuff. Is the Salt Lick within walking distance?”
“Of course.” Her dry tone suggests my question is ridiculous.
I’m still learning the intricacies of Bampton Valley. So far, everywhere I need to go can be reached by foot.
With a slight wince, I rush to get my purse. The jumbo tote packed to the gills with art supplies stays behind. That bag wouldn’t bode well at the bar. I stifle a giggle just imagining a group of burly farmers accidently tipping a jar full of glitter across the countertop.
“What’s so funny?” Bea pokes her head into my room, ushering me along with a shooing motion.
“Glitter bombs.” I jog to reach her.
“Oh, are you planning an attack?”
“Not that the moment, but it’s fun to imagine different scenarios.”
A sparkle glints in her eye. “Just say the word and I’ve got your back.”
Then we’re off, hoofing it at triple speed. Guess someone is extra thirsty.
I shrug. “We’ll see if anyone warrants such a destructive consequence.”
Bea slaps on a pair of oversized sunglasses as we exit the school. “Very true. Those are cruel—unless you plant one for a cheating ex. It’s completely justified in that case.”
I suck a mouthful of air between my teeth, cringing at the potential landmine. “Speaking from experience?”
“Unfortunately,” she mutters. “But those headlines are ancient. I’ve moved on.”
“Good, I’m glad. Guys like that don’t deserve an ounce of your grief.”
She sends me a sideways glance from behind the corner of her shades. “Are you part of the club too?”
“No, thankfully.” I wipe my brow at that bullet I’ve managed to dodge. “One of my friends in college was blindsided by her boyfriend. They’d been dating exclusively for years and seemed like the real deal. Then, bang, he slept with some fame whore while on the road at an away game.”
“Fucking brutal,” she spits. “Jersey chasers are the worst.”
“So I hear. I’ve never been attracted to athletes. Not my jam.”
“How about country boys? Farmers come from solid stock, if you know what I mean.”
I still, the breath stalling in my lungs. “I haven’t met very many of those.”
“Well, you’ve come to the right place. This town is crawling with prime options for the picking. I can introduce you to the finest quality our crops have to offer.”
If I didn’t know better, I would assume she was referring to actual plants. She’s passionate about the subject, though. This woman could probably make mud sound appetizing.
“Oh, that reminds me. We have plenty of cowboys available too. Pick your indulgence, Audria.”
I relax, exhaling the lead balloon that’s held hostage in my chest. She isn’t referring to a particular dark-haired gent with stunning blue eyes. “Really? I would’ve thought it’s the opposite in a small town.”
“It depends on the man. Plenty hold out for that special someone to sweep through Bam like a Billy Currington song.”
I give her a blank stare. “Who?”
Bea snorts. “Oh, girl. This is gonna be fun. Buckle up for a wild ride.”
“Just remember I’m only staying in Bampton Valley for a year.”
“Unless a certain someone changes your mind.” She wiggles her brows.
“Not going to happen,” I state with unwavering conviction. “Getting attached isn’t in the cards for me.”
Her hand flaps at me. “Yeah, sure. Whatever. I’ll check back in a few months.”
A groan bubbles up my throat. I’m sure for the lifers in this town, that decision wouldn’t be one at all. It’s impossible for them to understand my reasoning, and vice versa. An uncomfortable twist cramps my belly. Disappointing people isn’t my favorite. I’ll have to passively avoid this situation. That’s one message legible enough for me to have gained since moving in.
“And here we are,” she sings.
My dreary thoughts scatter as we approach a building on the edge of Main Street. I didn’t realize we’d managed to get so far already. Frosted glass spans a thick front panel, extending around the corner to hit all access points. The foggy surface is decorated with florescent paint and window-length posters. It’s no secret what the purpose of this establishment is based on the bold advertisements for alcohol, live music, and dancing. Looks like a spot to party if I’ve ever seen one.
“Wow, that was fast. Less than ten minutes?” I blink away the ripple of shock.
Bea offers a lazy roll of her shoulders. “Short jaunt, as always. You’ll discover everything is super close together around here.”
I shake my head at the case of déjà vu. Reeve told me the same, using very similar words. An eerie chill snakes down my spine, but I’m not creeped out. It just goes to show how accurate the description is.
I glance at the clock on my phone. “Is it even happy hour yet?”
She tips her head back with a throaty laugh. “Please. The drinks are always on discount in Bam, especially for the ladies.”
Another nugget of intel to stash in my collection. “I’ll never complain about that.”
“Keep that in mind when you’re packing up to leave town.”
I roll my eyes. “Because cheap booze is hard to come by. That isn’t a strong enough factor to stay.”
“Just one of many.” Her hips sway with extra gusto as we stroll into the
