A Cross-Country Christmas(8)

Her mom was still ranting, growing angrier by the second, struggling with the groceries, when Spencer’s friend took a step toward her and caught one of the bags just as she was about to drop it. Then, he reached for the other bag and set both on the counter. Her mom stopped talking for a second, glanced at Lauren, then back at the kid.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“I’m Will Sinclair,” he said. “I’m Spencer’s friend.”

Will Sinclair. She repeated the name three times in her mind, as if to lock it in. As if she could forget it.

“Spencer?” their mother called.

Spencer appeared in the doorway of the kitchen.

“Why is your friend helping me with the groceries while you’re in there playing video games?” Back to the phone: “No, I will not get off his case, Neal. Someone has to teach him manners.” Then, to Will, “Thank you for your help. Maybe you’ll rub off on my kid.”

Will made a face at Spencer and Spencer rolled his eyes at Will and Lauren simply stood. They helped with the bags, then the boys grabbed the potato chips and clambered over the back of the couch in the living room and hung out the rest of the afternoon into the evening.

Lauren sat back on the porch, opened her book, and replayed that smile in front of the fridge while pretending to read.

Lauren didn’t see Spencer or Will any more that day, but for some reason she still didn’t understand, they chose to spend most of that summer at their house, despite the arguing parents.

Looking back, she decided it was definitely because of the overabundance of ice cream. And the extreme lack of parental oversight.

It only took one brief encounter (On the toilet. Classic.) for that boy to make an impression on Lauren that would last years.

Now, sitting in a car next to him, the memory felt anything but far away. She tried to stay focused on Maddie’s reminder that she was not the girl she used to be, but when she glanced down at her sketchpad, she saw the image of herself as a girl staring back at her.

She closed the notebook. She wouldn’t get her heart broken by Will Sinclair.

Not again.





Chapter 4





“What are you doing?”

Lauren hadn’t spoken since they pulled out of Santa Monica, but Will wasn’t surprised that the first thing she said sounded like an accusation.

He pointed. “I’m exiting,” he said. He knew it would get under her skin. He’d given up on winning her over, but he wasn’t going to let her get him down.

Might as well have a little fun.

“Why?”

“First stop.” He smiled, saying it without looking at her.

“I thought you didn’t have a plan.”

“I don’t, I just saw a sign for ‘Big Mom’s Wigwams’ and felt a sudden need to check it out.” He turned toward her and grinned. “This is called being spontaneous.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“Are you serious?”

“Rarely,” he quipped. “And I bet you can’t say it five times fast.” He tried it. “Big Mom’s Wigwams. Wig bombs big moms. Big wig wahms moms.” He chuckled to himself. “Nope. Can’t do it.”

“Are you deliberately trying to make this trip even worse for me?” She blew out a breath that fogged her window.

“Oh, Lo-Lo-La, you are doing that all on your own.”

Her jaw dropped, and she did that thing where your face wants to be horrifyingly shocked, but it comes across as a crooked-smiled laugh.

“You did not just call me that.”

Yeah, I did.

Will shrugged. “Come on. There might be some actual big moms there.”

She held up her hands. “I’m stuck with a literal child for a week.”

“At least I got you talking.” He tilted his head, keeping his eyes on the road.

Her silence spoke begrudging agreement. It was like her mind folded its arms and pouted.

“Look Lo, I was just trying to make you feel better about the fact that we’re out here winging it. I know you’re more of a list-maker, stick-to-a-schedule kind of person.” He came to a stop at the end of the exit and waited for a semi to make a turn.

“Yep, that’s me, regimented and boring.” She sighed. “While you are all about the fun.”

“Nothing wrong with having fun, though, right?”

She shrugged. “I just don’t think it should be a person’s primary goal in life.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re adults,” she said pointedly. “Because there’s more to life than partying and making fools of ourselves.”

Ah, so she remembered the old Will Sinclair.

That’s not who I am anymore.

The reminder fell flat. Some days, it was harder that others to believe it. Something about Lauren made him feel like he might never measure up.

Her phone buzzed in her lap, and she disappeared into the screen. Will felt he’d made a little headway, but like a game of Sorry, was knocked back to square one. He glanced at her, noticing her face, the shape of it, and the curve of her lips.

He’d met Lauren when they were young, but sitting here now, he realized he’d never really known her at all.

The truth was he didn’t like that she knew him before he’d changed. He didn’t know how to navigate someone who was so unimpressed by him, so unaffected by his charms. It wasn’t like he could flirt his way into Lauren’s good graces—she’d see right through that. She’d had his number a long time ago. So, why did a part of him want to prove to her he wasn’t that guy anymore?