Not Our Summer by Casie Bazay (android based ebook reader TXT) 📗

Dax says, getting up from the barstool. Like he’s one to talk. Dax is six foot something and skinny as they come. He nods toward the television. “All right if I play Mass Effect? Looks like we’re safe for now.”

“Sure.” To be honest, I’m sick of watching him and Carter play video games, but once again I have to be nice about it.

“You making dinner tonight?” Dax asks, and I fight the urge to roll my eyes. We recently decided to take turns cooking, but when it’s one of the guys’ turns we either have sandwiches or frozen pizza. I’m the only one who knows how to make an actual meal around here.

“Yeah,” I say with a huff and stand to hobble on my heels into the kitchen.

Frozen chicken breasts are in the oven and sliced potatoes are frying in a pan when Carter arrives home at half past seven. He tromps across the carpet in his wet tennis shoes, and once again, I bite my tongue. Mom would have such a fit.

“Smells good,” he says. “Whatcha making?”

“Stuff,” I say, because they’ll find out soon enough. But then I feel guilty for being rude when I’m getting to stay here for free and all. “So how was your shift?” I ask, working hard to make my tone more friendly.

“Good. Busy.” Carter gives my arm a playful pinch and grabs a Mountain Dew from the fridge before going to plop down on the couch and watch Dax play the video game. I sigh. This is how our evenings seem to go anymore. Though it’s about as exciting as watching a fly buzz around the room, I watch for a while until the timer for the chicken goes off.

“Food’s ready,” I say, but the guys aren’t paying attention. They’re totally wrapped up in their game. I shake my head and make myself a plate, sitting at the counter to eat by my lonesome. Lately, I can’t shake this growing, unsettled feeling about living here. It’s like, aside from work, this old mildewy trailer and violent video games have become my life. I don’t want to go home, but I wish I had another option. Maybe even a place of my own.

Grandpa’s money sure would be nice. That little voice keeps piping up, but it’s completely pointless. I’d have to use it on college, and that defeats the whole purpose because I’m not going to freaking college.

Saturday, Carter and I both have the afternoon shift at Reynold’s. When I step out for a smoke break around three, I realize that dorky weatherman was right. It’s suffocating out here. But the blazing summer sun has at least dried up all the puddles that were here when we came in at noon. I’m sucking in one last drag when my phone dings in my pocket. I pull it out to have a look. Becka again.

I’m going tonight

I type good for u and then delete it, stuffing the phone back into my pocket instead. I stub out my cigarette and head back inside, where I can get some relief from this hellhole, otherwise known as summer in Siloam Springs.

The afternoon drags on, and though I’m still grateful to have this job, I find myself thinking about all the other things I could be doing instead of organizing car batteries on the back shelf.

I could work at the vape shop on Aspen, I think. No that’s dumb. What about a job at the art studio where people come with their friends to paint a Christmas tree or a giant purple heart with pink polka dots inside? I’d seen those two pictures outside the window one time anyway. Or what about a restaurant? Waiters probably make decent money, especially at the nice places. If I waited tables, maybe I’d make enough to get my own apartment or something. Some place that doesn’t have to be brought in on wheels.

I sigh and hoist yet another battery onto the shelf. I just don’t see how it’s possible. How will I ever make enough to live on my own? So far, most of my money has gone for groceries and gas. And cigarettes, although I recently decided I should quit for good because the habit is just too dang expensive.

When eight o’clock finally rolls around, I follow Carter out to his truck since we rode together today. It’s cooled off by maybe half a degree or so. “So you wanna do something fun tonight?” I ask as I slide into the passenger side. “We could go see a movie or something. My treat.”

“I think Dax was wanting to play Call of Duty, actually.” He gives me a sheepish smile as he starts the engine.

I take a deep breath of semi-cooled air. “Really? You know, we never do anything like we used to, even if it was driving around or shit like that.” Maybe neither one of us wants to admit that we might have messed things up with that kiss.

Carter’s smile disappears, replaced by a look of irritation. “I don’t have much extra money to go out and do stuff, K. J. You know that.”

“Um, hello? I just offered to pay for the movie, and you still don’t wanna go.”

“How about tomorrow? We’re both off work. I just wanna chill at the house tonight.” He backs out of his space, and we bump through a series of potholes before exiting the parking lot.

I stare straight ahead. “Forget it.”

Carter sighs but doesn’t say anything else. We make the rest of the drive in silence.

Dax already has the PS4 fired up at home, and Carter immediately settles onto the couch beside him, ready for their dude-date or whatever.

“I’m leaving,” I announce after grabbing a Dr Pepper and a granola bar.

“Where ya going?” Carter asks without looking up.

“Dunno yet.” I grab my keys and leave before he can say anything else. Not that he was going to anyway. I definitely need some time to rethink this whole living here thing.

I start