Drive(9)

It had turned out to be a blessing for them when I didn’t get into UT the first few years. Both relief and worry for my future clouded their eyes when we sat down to plan. I busted my ass to pay for my first few years of junior college, while they scraped and saved for the next two years. But we made it work, and I was in Austin. And Austin was where my hopes lie for a start that I prayed would lead me to the career I’d been dreaming about since I caught my first episode of Behind the Music.

Alight with a small amount of enthusiasm, and determined not to let Dylan’s rejection ruin any more of it, I brewed a quick cup of coffee and planned my day. I had little to go on in the way of a job that I would truly want. I made a quick mental list of places I could go within walking distance of her restaurant.

It seemed when my sister left the room she took Reid’s attention with her, which suited me perfectly. He quickly became immersed in TV while I pulled out a pair of shorts, my electric blue Chucks, and Pulp Fiction Tasty Burger T-shirt with Samuel Jackson’s fuck-with-me face on it. I scurried to the bedroom and changed while Paige showered, then ran a brush through my slightly wavy hair, along with a little oil to weigh it down and tame the fly-aways. After applying some heavy liner and mascara, I glossed my lips in loud, pink berry and spritzed my wrists and neck with Paige’s perfume. Reemerging, I found Reid in the kitchen. He paused, a bottled water to his mouth, as he looked me over. “Nice shirt.”

“I agree.”

“You think you’ll get a job dressed like that?” Offended, I took in his jeans, boots, and T-shirt.

“Looks like you did.”

“Whatever you say, little sister.” He brushed past me and resumed his spot on the couch.

I wasn’t looking for an office job. If anything, I wanted to find something at one of the clubs on 6th Street. I knew it would be hard considering I wasn’t of age, but there was no harm in trying before I was stuck taking Tex-Mex orders.

Ready to wage war on a stilted Austin, I flipped through my phone to message Lexi, who was the only person I really regretted leaving behind in Dallas. She’d been assuring me she would come to Austin as soon as I got enough money for a place, and her only job would be to furnish it. She was very much like me in that her mother didn’t have the means to support her a day after high school. And because her mother depended on her to watch her little brother, a nine-year-old surprise souvenir she caught while vacationing in Puerto Rico, she couldn’t break free and move in with me until he started back to school. And that gave me weeks to make it happen. I needed someone other than my sister, who was busy living her life, to help keep me motivated.

I’m going crazy here. Was this a mistake?

LEXI: Hell no, I can’t wait to get there. Did you get a job yet? Why didn’t you come to Dallas this weekend?

Black Betty blew up. I texted you twice. Broke up with asshole too. It’s been a shit week.

LEXI: You texted? Shit, I’m sorry. I was watching ‘The Rico.’ He’s a full-time job. Jesus, I will never have sex without a condom and spermicide bodysuit. I’m almost positive that’s why my mother has trapped me with him for the summer before she lets me loose in the world. And what the hell with Dylan?

He broke up with me. And that’s on good assumption because we haven’t talked. AT ALL. He just stopped calling.

LEXI: I’m going to kick his ass. I mean it. If I see him, it’s on.

Please don’t do that. And don’t call me. I’m sitting next to a guy.

LEXI: You moved on quick.

It’s my sister’s friend, and I’m getting the prick vibe.

LEXI: No shit? Hot? Take a pic.

Of course, she’d ignored the prick part of the text. For Lexi, that vibe was a neon sign that translated: Stop and graze here! But I had to admit, she held her own with men. She never held her heart on her sleeve when it came to them. Her tough exterior was a force to be reckoned with. She had a philosophy she stuck to: nothing serious before twenty-five. She vowed only to let her hormones run her sex life. Her head ran the rest of it. I was quickly coming around to her line of thinking.

Hell no, I’m not taking a pic. He’s sitting feet away!

LEXI: DO it. I want to see.

To hell with it. I lifted my phone, just as Reid turned in my direction, and snapped a picture.

He arched a brow. “Did you just take a picture of me?”

“Nope.”

I hit send.

He saw me do it. I hate you.

Lexi: FUCKING HELL HE’S HOT!!

Her mother was right to frighten her. Lexi had skipped the moving-on phase of boy crazy. But I had to admit, for a love ’em and leave ’em girl, she had pretty high standards, and was more of a kissing whore. That I agreed with on all fronts. Kissing was everything, next to an opening guitar riff.

I’m done with men for the moment. Really done. D.O.N.E.

LEXI: Fine with me. I’ll come down this weekend for your birthday and snatch him up.

I rolled my eyes as Reid cleared his throat.

I glanced up. “Yes?”

“Did you seriously just take a picture of me and send it to who you’re texting?”

“You’ll thank me for it later.”

His eyes hardened. “I don’t need your help getting hooked up, little sister.”

“Oh? Well, good, because I just registered you as a sex offender.”