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“Like a hole in the head,” I deadpan, but there’s no real bite to it. I did miss home. There’s something comforting about these mountains. “I keep expecting everything to be different. Is that weird?”

Her nose wrinkles. “Totally. I’m pretty sure change and Big Ridge are antonyms,” Aspen says.

The waitress brings us coffee without asking, and Aspen orders an omelet. I go for French Toast because I need bread and sugar. Those are essential items on the food pyramid, right?

“So,” Aspen leans forward, chin propped on her hands, “spill it, girlfriend. Why did you really come back? Last I heard, you were making it big in New York with your art.”

Great, my mom’s been telling stories. I wish I had some magical adventure to share. The question hits harder than I expect. I focus on stirring cream into my coffee, watching the black swirl to a creamy caramel. “I needed a change. City life gets old, you know?”

“Bullshit.” Aspen searches my face. “But you can keep your secrets.”

When I don’t rise to the bait, her expression softens. “Are you really okay, Cal? You’ve got that same look you had senior year after the video.”

“I’m fine.” The lie comes easily, practiced. “I’m only trying to figure things out.”

She studies me for a moment, and I know she can tell something isn’t right, but instead of pushing, she changes the subject. “I’m running the summer learning program at the elementary school this year. We’ve got loads of kids signed up, but we’re short on teachers for the creative stuff.”

“Let me guess, you want me to help?” I raise an eyebrow. “Did my mom put you up to this?”

“It’s only a couple afternoons a week.” Aspen’s eyes light up and she completely ignores my last question, which means yeah, Mom called her. “These kids would flip to learn from a real artist. And it’s small stuff like finger painting, crafts, collages. I mean it’s nothing fancy like you’re used to, but it’ll be fun and the pay is decent.”

The thought of picking up a paintbrush in front of an audience makes my stomach turn. But it’s just kids. Surely I can finger paint a turtle. God, how embarrassing will it be if I can’t even finger paint?

“I’ll think about it,” I say finally as our food arrives. “That’s all I can promise right now.”

Aspen beams like I’ve already said yes. “That’s more than enough for me.”

At least with two jobs, I’ll be on my way to recovering from the debt Theo racked up.

Chapter Ten

BRAX

Summertime in Big Ridge is living, breathing chaos. Even at seven in the morning, traffic into town is backed up. The tourist strip is a few blocks removed from the local downtown, but they’re close enough that I’m stuck behind a line of tail lights, winding through the only mountainous road that leads to town.

Five cars ahead, I spot a familiar Rav-4. The morning breeze rolling through my window carries music, and I’d bet money it’s coming from Callie’s SUV. She always lived her life loud and fast.

I grab my phone to send her a text, then remember she blocked our numbers. Sally Mae said she wanted space and that we needed to respect it. It hurt knowing even her mom was mad at us, but as the years went on, she wasn’t as angry. But Callie was. She didn’t want to talk to us, hear about us, or discuss anything related to the Williams family.

Traffic starts to flow, and I toss the phone aside, remembering how we all got here.

Once upon a time I was pretty sure Callie was end game. Not just for me. For Jax and Knox too. Knox would never share though. Jax and I have lived our lives sharing, so us dating the same woman makes sense. Not to mention, it almost worked.

Until fucking Penelope. She caught me and Jax with Callie, used Knox’s phone to record everything, and posted it. That night was the last time I saw her, and the feel of her soft body against mine is burned in my memories. So much so that I can’t even bring myself to date. Knox has been single ever since he ditched Penelope, and Jax isn’t much for dating either. Much to my Aunt Lulu’s consternation, we’re perpetual bachelors. If she had it her way, we’d all be married and have three kids apiece by now.

I think part of the reason why none of us have settled down is because of Callie. She’s always had a special hold on us. I think we all fell in love the day we met at the summer festival and she stuck a lizard down Knox’s pants. Chuckling to myself, I pull into the elementary school parking lot, taking my usual spot, and eye Callie’s now empty RAV-4.

What’s she doing here?

Tommy, a second grader still missing his front tooth, jogs past me. “S’up, bruh?”

“Nothing much, bruh.”

He spins around and walks backward toward the door, blond hair flopping as he bounces with every step. “Do you think that an Indominus rex could beat a t-rex?”

“T-rex is the OG.”

“The what?” Tommy stops walking and wrinkles his nose.