A Lie for a Lie (All In, #1)(22)

“I’m managing everything just fine, and yes, I know what to do when things get stressful. It’s pretty quiet around here, though.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” She doesn’t sound glad at all. “Have you made any friends? You can be so focused on your studies and sometimes making friends is hard for you. Are there any other students there?”

“No other students, but I did make a friend.”

“Really? That’s so wonderful!”

I try not to be affronted by her shock.

“Where did you meet her? Have you done fun things together? If she’s not a student, what does she do? Is she local?”

“I met them on the plane. They’re not local—they actually have an alpaca farm in New York, which is really cool. We went boating yesterday.”

“Well, that sounds fun! Did you wear a life jacket? What’s her name?”

“RJ.”

“RJ? That doesn’t sound like a girl’s name.”

I hate that I’m twenty-five and telling my mother that I met someone who isn’t female is still a thing. “That’s because RJ isn’t a girl.”

I’m met with silence—a long, heavy silence. I’m aware it won’t last. “You’re spending time with a boy? What do you even know about him? And who goes by initials? I don’t like this at all, and I don’t think your father is going to like it either.”

I bite back the scathing remarks I’d like to let fly, aware I’ll regret it if I get into an argument with my mother with no way to patch things up from this far away. “He’s very nice, Mom. He’s been very helpful and kind. He’s taken me grocery shopping, and we had a nice afternoon exploring the town together.”

“Do you really think this is a good idea, Lainey? You know how attached you get to people. You’re only there for six weeks, and you already sound smitten!”

“I’m not smitten.” I don’t like how sour those words are. “I’m only here for a short time, and he’s only here for a few weeks. There’s no harm in spending time with someone I like.”

“Boys only want one thing, Lainey.”

“He’s not a boy, Mom, he’s a man—and I’m not a girl. I’m a twenty-five-year-old woman. We have fun together, and I’m going to enjoy my time with him,” I snap.

More silence follows.

“Please, Mom, don’t make this hard for me.”

She sighs. “You know how much I worry about you.”

“I know, but I’m having fun, and he really is nice.” And very good at kissing. “How’s everyone doing? How is Mooreen? She must be ready to have her calf soon. Is Dr. Flood coming to take care of that?” It’s not a subtle shift, but it does the trick.

My mom goes off on a rant about the animals, then goes on to gossip about the neighbors.

Eventually she lets me go so she can get back to laundry. I decide to call my friend Eden, who recently moved out to Chicago for a great job. I miss her, but we still keep in touch through phone calls and email. She’s much more enthusiastic about my new friend.

By the time I end the call with her, it’s already two o’clock in the afternoon, and I’m tired and hungry. I eat a handful of crackers, too exhausted from being up since four o’clock in the morning to be bothered with boiling water and making noodles. The sun is no longer shining, clouds having rolled in while I was on the phone, darkening the afternoon sky.

I decide a twenty-minute nap will do the trick and that I might be able to make it through the rest of the day, and I have half a hope of getting a decent night’s sleep. After my nap I can call RJ and see if he’s still up for doing something.

I put on some relaxing music and lie down on my lumpy bed. The moment I close my eyes, RJ’s toned chest appears behind my lids. I allow the memory of his lips on mine and the way it felt to be pressed up against all those hard muscles to take over as I sink into blissful sleep.

A huge bang startles me awake. I bolt upright and reach for the closest object, which happens to be a textbook on my nightstand. No lights are on, which doesn’t make a lot of sense, since I could’ve sworn they were when I fell asleep. A flash of lightning startles me, and seconds later a crash of thunder makes the entire cabin shake. Shadows crawl across the walls for the short span of time that there’s light, so, of course, I scream.

I hate thunderstorms. The thunder sounds a lot like gunshots, and it reminds me of my time at college in Seattle. That, along with the fact that I’m in a rickety cabin, the fire has gone out, and there are no lights on, sends me right into Anxiousville.

Rain pounds on the roof, and more thunder and lightning have me hiding under my covers. I try to slow my panicked breathing, but it’s coming too fast and I’m already spiraling out of control—all my thoughts are fleeting. I need light.

“Take a breath, Lainey. Take a breath and figure it out,” I tell myself. I inhale deeply and exhale slowly. Breathe in. Breathe out.

There has to be a flashlight somewhere in here. Or some candles. I gave up on charging my cell phone yesterday, since I have one of those cheap carrier services and I haven’t been getting reception at all. Still, it doesn’t hurt to see if it’s holding a charge so I can at least use the screen to find something more reliable. Unfortunately, it’s dead, just like all the lights in this place.