No Place Like Homecoming - Dallen, Maggie (best interesting books to read txt) 📗

moved to New Jersey to be near her family since their dad left and she lost her job,” Willow said.

Somehow, Willow’s matter-of-fact tone somehow made me feel that much worse for Flynn. Like, this wasn’t some sob story. Just his life.

That sucked.

But also… “He’s driving to New Jersey?”

“That’s his plan,” Callie said.

Savannah looked annoyed, and I had to wonder if it was because she was pissed her boyfriend was leaving without her or that they were discussing his life with the new girl or—

“I just don’t get how he’s going to drive there and then be back in time to finish up the first semester,” she said.

I frowned. Okay, apparently she was worried about his grades. I mentally rolled my eyes. These people were weird.

There were obviously way more important things to be concerned with here like, “When’s he supposed to leave?”

All eyes swung in my direction. Callie shrugged. “As soon as he can pull together enough money, I guess.”

I nodded. Right. That made sense. What else made sense? Splitting the costs with someone else who needed to get to the East Coast in a hurry. Someone like me.

For the first time in days, some of my original hopefulness came back.

This could be a win-win for both of us. All I had to do was ask.

I cringed at the memory of being in his car. Of saying rather rudely that I didn’t need his help. Of giving him a hard time at every turn. Of being undeniably awful every time we’d interacted.

Ungrateful and spoiled and every other word my parents used to describe me when I messed up.

They weren’t wrong.

I was all of those things.

I wasn’t proud of it, but I’d stopped caring a long time ago. I mean, why try when it never changed anything. People saw you a certain way and sometimes it was just easier to go with it.

Besides, if I was spoiled, it was their fault, right? They were the ones who’d thrown money at me instead of attention. And if I was selfish, that was how it had to be. They’d taught me at the ripe old age of five that the only person who was looking out for me was me. Anyone who said otherwise was either being paid to take care of you or had something to gain from earning your trust.

I know, I know. Jaded much? But I couldn’t help it if I’d learned these lessons the hard way. And then my parents wondered why I had an ‘attitude.’

Please.

My only problem was that right now that attitude was going to bite me in the butt.

Again.

There was no way Flynn would do me any favors. And there was no way I could ask him for help.

I sighed as I tipped my head back to stare up at the ceiling.

“What’s with the new girl?” Savannah asked.

“She has a name, Savannah,” Willow chided.

“And she’s new,” Callie pointed out, the comment somewhat redundant. “Give her a break.”

I arched my brows as Mrs. Messner placed some tacky sequined ruby slippers by my feet. “See if these fit.”

Slipping my feet in, I tried not to think about who all had worn these before me.

“A little big,” Mrs. Messner said. “But with some stuffing in the front they should work.”

Her smile was so bright that I couldn’t help but return it. But in my head all I could imagine was my mother’s horror if she’d heard those words. Mrs. Messner tipped her head to the side. “By the way, how’s your mother doing, Isla?”

Mrs. Messner was clearly psychic.

My mind went blank as it tried to imagine a world in which Mrs. Messner and my mother knew each other. “Umm…”

Her smile broadened. “I haven’t seen her in years. Not since the last time she visited your Aunt Lucy.”

I blinked. My mother had visited Aunt Lucy? She’d never mentioned that. Not in all her lectures about how good this experience would be for me.

Interesting.

“She’s...fine,” I said. As I said it, I realized that I had no idea if that was true or not. My mom’s life always seemed...fine. Hectic. Busy. And fine. But in all of our scheduled calls this week, she hadn’t told me much about what was going on at home.

And to be honest, I hadn’t really asked.

My phone’s ringing cut off the would-be conversation before it could get any more awkward and I made a lunge for the front door. Logan. I knew it would be Logan.

“Isla, wait—”

“Be right back!” I called over my shoulder before slipping outside and answering just a second too late, because as I clicked the button, I realized—

“What’s with the braids, babe?”

It was a video call.

I scrambled to hold the phone at an angle so he couldn’t see the dress that went with the braids.

“Just trying out a new look,” I said, tilting my head this way and that with my lips pursed. “The schoolgirl look. You like?”

His chuckle was low and satisfyingly sexy. “I like any look on you.”

I grinned, but my stomach was churning because...he wasn’t alone. I could hear people in the background, and a sense of dread filled me before I could stop it.

It was stupid, but I couldn’t shake it. I headed down the front steps of Mrs. Messner’s house and onto the sidewalk. There were people around, but I ignored the stares as people walked past me to the restaurant two doors down.

It likely wasn’t everyday that Dorothy appeared before them, ruby slippers and all.

“What have I missed back home?” I asked.

He shrugged and glanced over his shoulder. “Nothing new here. You know how it is.”

I nodded, scrambling to think of something else to say. Waiting for him to ask me about life in the middle of nowhere.

He didn’t.

“You coming back soon?” he asked instead. His gaze wasn’t on the camera or me, it was on something happening behind his phone.

“Yeah. Of course. I told you I wouldn’t be away for long.”

His gaze finally found the screen and his smile eased some of that dread in my