“Thanks.”
Smiling, she patted my shoulder. “Thank you for doing this.”
My phone buzzed against my hip where I’d tucked it into the waistband of my shorts. It was too early for Abby to be up, so it must be Ellie or Simon.
“Okay, I’m heading out. Call me if you need anything.” Larissa waved as she headed down the stairs.
I pulled my phone out and swiped my thumb across the screen.
Simon: GOING TO THE BEACH TODAY. WANT TO GO?
I frowned. He couldn’t have asked me this before I volunteered to spend my day in a stuffy, dusty attic?
Me: SORRY. CAN’T. HAVE TO CLEAN MY ATTIC.
Simon: IS THAT A EUPHEMISM FOR SOMETHING DIRTY?
I snorted out loud reading his response.
Me: IF BY “DIRTY” YOU MEAN LIKE A THOUSAND YEARS’ WORTH OF DUST.
I opened my camera and snapped a quick selfie, making sure to capture as much of the clutter behind me as possible.
Simon: YOU’RE LITERALLY CLEANING AN ACTUAL ATTIC.
Me: THAT’S WHAT I SAID.
Simon: SO… YOU’LL PROBABLY FEEL LIKE A NICE REFRESHING SWIM AFTER?
My gaze lingered on the shelf, and a heaviness settled on my chest. Even though I’d agreed to do this, I really didn’t want to. I’d much rather be swimming at the beach, but if I wanted to get home, I needed the money.
With a heavy sigh, I typed and sent a response.
Me: IT WILL PROBABLY TAKE ALL DAY. MAYBE NEXT TIME.
Tucking my phone away, I lifted a box and carried it downstairs, careful not to slip on the steps. I spent the next hour lugging boxes from the attic down to the office, stacking them neatly in the corner.
Larissa had said Dad would do it, but I wasn’t going to ask for his help, and I didn’t want to wait for him to do it. This way, I could work on scanning the pictures whenever I wanted—like in the middle of the night when I couldn’t sleep, or I was bombarded with thoughts of Trent.
He was going to be at school tomorrow. What kind of luck was that? My heart started to race, and not because I was physically exerting myself. I set the last box on the floor and, using the step stool, I closed the attic door.
After depositing the box in the office, I wandered into the kitchen. The clock on the stove read 12:39—lunch time. I fixed myself a roast beef sandwich and grabbed a bottle of soda, which I then carried upstairs.
I checked my messages, expecting to have a response from Simon, but there weren’t any. Disappointment sagged my shoulders. Other than the concert, I’d told him no every single time he’d asked me to hang out. Maybe he decided to stop asking.
Me: SORRY ABOUT TODAY. MAYBE WE CAN DO SOMETHING AFTER SCHOOL TOMORROW?
Larissa was sure to say yes, and Dad wouldn’t disagree with her. I hadn’t seen them argue once since I’d been here, and Dad gave her whatever she wanted.
When I finished eating, I flipped open the box that was closest to me and groaned. There had to be at least a thousand pictures in here. I grabbed a handful. They were all faded, black and white photos. Thank God for current technology and cell phone cameras.
I glanced through the pictures—I didn’t know any people in them, not that I expected to, but it would make organizing them on the computer harder. I turned over several pictures, hoping there were names written on the back. No such luck. Guess I’d just save them on the computer by the dates written on the boxes.
I grabbed my phone to turn on some music when I noticed a new text.
Simon: IT’S A DATE.
He’d added a smiling emoji and a thumbs up. I smiled. Simon was a lot of fun to hang out with, and I was excited about tomorrow—hopefully, he didn’t ask Olivia to tag along. Scrolling through my apps, I found my favorite playlist and turned the volume all the way up.
“Chloe?” Larissa’s voice echoed from downstairs.
“In the office,” I shouted.
What was she doing home already? I glanced at my phone—3:42 PM. Holy cow. It was that late already?
A moment later, Larissa appeared in the doorway. Her eyebrows lifted in surprise when she saw the stack of boxes. “You’ve been busy,” she said.
I stood and stretched. “I’ve barely made it through one box.” I nodded to the stack of pictures piled on the desk, the only ones I’d managed to get scanned so far.
“Well, there’s no rush.” She smiled. “Your father called. He wants us to meet him at the country club for dinner. Some of his colleagues will be there, too. Can you be ready to leave in half an hour?”
“Uh, yeah. I just need to shower and change. Is there a dress code?” I was not squeezing myself into another formal dress and heels.
“Casual but presentable. No jeans.”
I groaned. All I owned were jeans. I did own a pair of khakis though. They’d have to do. “Oh, hey. Simon asked if I could hang out with him after school tomorrow. Is that okay?”
Her face brightened, and her smile grew. “Of course. What will you be doing?”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “Probably get food or something. We won’t be hanging out too long because I have a tutoring session at four-thirty.”
And I was eager to see Jaxon again, to tell him about my weekend and get his advice on everything.
She nodded slowly. “Just call to check in, and let me know what’s going on, okay? And be home in time for dinner. It will be a bit later than normal tomorrow night because of your father’s schedule.”
“Okay,” I said.
“Better yet, why don’t you invite Simon to have dinner with us?”
I froze, eyes wide. Invite Simon to dinner? With my Dad and stepmom? After the way they’d acted when he picked me up for the concert? No. Friggin’. Way. Uh-uh. Not happening.
“I’ll ask him,” I said, not feeling the least bit guilty for the lie.
“Great.” She stepped aside so I could leave the
