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“Ugh!” My chest heaves as I stomp into the bedroom. I fling myself onto the bed, and flip open the cover of the journal Mom got me:
June 9th
Dear Mom,
This trip is off to a rocky start, and it’s only the first day. Sunnyside is beautiful. Beatrice is so nice. It’s her ass of a grandson who I have a problem with. I don’t know what his issue is. I get that it’s an inconvenience to have me in his house, but he lives at a bed and breakfast. That’s literally what people do—they live in your house!
He blew up at me tonight, and it was the most bizarre thing. Why would a reporter pose as a grieving daughter? And who would want to write a story about him? Who the hell is he? World’s biggest jerk, that’s who. I’m tempted to Google his name, but that would mean I actually care. And I don’t. This guy has issues, and I deserve an apology. End of story.
I wish you were here, Mom. You would love this place.
Minus the asshole who lives here.
Charly
I slept like a baby.
I thought I’d have a difficult time falling asleep knowing that a complete asshat was in the room next to mine, but I passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow.
I tap out a text to Jenny when my eyes pop open as the sun streams through my curtains.
Me: I’m alive.
Jenny: Thank God your rude roommate didn’t murder you in the night. How did you sleep?
Me: Better than I have in a long time.
Jenny: Jealous. Rob snored all night. I thought about stuffing a sock in his mouth.
Me: I have to say, sleeping alone is highly underrated.
Jenny: I give it one week before you’re sharing a bed with Khal Drogo.
A laugh bursts out of me, and I slap my hand over my mouth. I don’t know how thin these walls are.
Sleep with Bryce? Yeah, right. After the way he acted last night, I don’t want to share the same air as him, let alone a bed.
Me: Not gonna happen.
Jenny: Have you spoken to Greg?
Me: No. He left me a voicemail last night, but I haven’t listened to it yet.
Jenny: He came by the diner.
Me: What did he say?
Jenny: The same bullshit. That he’s sorry, and he wants you to call him.
Jenny: Blah, blah, blah.
Me: Did you tell him I’m away for the summer?
Jenny: I told him you were on vacation.
Jenny: I also told him he should go play in traffic.
Me: I wish he’d stop calling and forget about me.
