pile of clothes heaped in my closet. What am I going to wear tonight?
CHAPTER 7
I’m addicted to Lucas’s random thoughts. Before I start stressing out about Carson, I read an entry in the notebook. His words are calming. I know I should wait and save one for each day, but I need to read what he has to say next.
DEAR OAKLEY,
YOU KNOW HOW I LIKE TO SING IN THE SHOWER AT HOME? I TOTALLY DO IT HERE, TOO. A KID ON MY FLOOR SAYS I HAVE A PRETTY AWESOME VOICE. HE EVEN GAVE ME A RECOMMENDATION TO SING TOMORROW. I THINK IT’S HILARIOUS THAT HE CAN HEAR ME, SINCE HE'S ALL THE WAY DOWN THE HALL. THAT MEANS I’M LOUDER THAN I THOUGHT I WAS. MAYBE I’LL TONE IT DOWN A LITTLE . . .
NAH. I’M GOOD.
I WOULD ASK YOU TO SING A DUET, BUT YOU KNOW . . . HA HA.
LOVE, LUCAS
Did he have to bring up my crappy singing voice again? With a smile on my face, I close the notebook and go get ready.
Carson picks me up at six. When I open the front door, he stares at me and clears his throat. “You look amazing.”
“Thanks.” I wouldn’t say amazing , but I did put on a little more makeup and actually thought about what to wear. Which, since this was just a business outing, made no sense at all. I look down at my light blue tank and my favorite jeans and blush. They’re not the nicest but I have to admit, the jeans make my butt look pretty good. At least that’s what my friends used to tell me.
“Hey, Carson.” Jo peeks around the corner and waves.
“Hey, Jo! Do you need my help anytime soon?”
“I’m sure I could use you this week. Just stop in anytime.” She smiles and leaves us alone.
I don’t say goodbye to Mom. I haven’t seen her since earlier. Maybe tomorrow I’ll ask her about her phone conversation with Dad and why she looks so tired all the time, but for now, I’m going to enjoy myself.
“You ready?” Carson asks.
“Yep.” My palms are sweaty and I’m sure my armpits are, too. How embarrassing. I should have worn a darker shirt.
Carson seems at ease as he walks me to his Jeep. I stare at the beast in front of me. I’ve never ridden in a Jeep before. It’s green and black and I’m sure really windy. I’m glad my hair is in a ponytail. He opens the passenger door for me and I climb in with trembling hands.
“This is nice,” I say as he climbs in the driver’s seat and starts it up.
“Thanks. She’s my baby. I named her Helga.”
Helga? I think it’s kind of goofy when guys name their cars, but I decide to keep that thought to myself.
We sit in silence as he drives down the street. I’m not sure what to say, how to act. I have no idea where to put my hands, so I keep them in my lap. I want to fold my arms, but figure I’d look uncomfortable or cold or something when I’m boiling hot. Still sweating, actually. Good times.
I don’t know where he’s taking me or what we’re going to do, I’m just glad to be out of the house with another person. And as a bonus, a really attractive and nice person.
After a few minutes of driving, he pulls into a parking lot. A bunch of cute shops line the street and he parks in front of a surfing one called Nye’s Surf Shop. He gets out and I do the same. I’m not about to make him walk around to open the door for me, which by the look on his face, he was clearly coming to do. I smile and shrug.
This isn’t a date. I have to keep reminding myself of that fact.
The air is warm and a slight breeze tousles my hair. I cross my arms and join Carson as we walk toward the shop together.
A white sign with bright blue paint sits next to the door. S URFING L ESSONS A VAILABLE . D ETAILS I NSIDE .
I’m curious if Carson is going to get someone from this shop to teach me how to surf instead of giving me lessons himself. Before I can ask, he pulls the screen door open and a little bell jingles. He waits until I walk inside and lets the door shut behind him.
The shop is amazing. Surfboards are everywhere in every color you can imagine. They hang on wires
CHAPTER 7
I’m addicted to Lucas’s random thoughts. Before I start stressing out about Carson, I read an entry in the notebook. His words are calming. I know I should wait and save one for each day, but I need to read what he has to say next.
DEAR OAKLEY,
YOU KNOW HOW I LIKE TO SING IN THE SHOWER AT HOME? I TOTALLY DO IT HERE, TOO. A KID ON MY FLOOR SAYS I HAVE A PRETTY AWESOME VOICE. HE EVEN GAVE ME A RECOMMENDATION TO SING TOMORROW. I THINK IT’S HILARIOUS THAT HE CAN HEAR ME, SINCE HE'S ALL THE WAY DOWN THE HALL. THAT MEANS I’M LOUDER THAN I THOUGHT I WAS. MAYBE I’LL TONE IT DOWN A LITTLE . . .
NAH. I’M GOOD.
I WOULD ASK YOU TO SING A DUET, BUT YOU KNOW . . . HA HA.
LOVE, LUCAS
Did he have to bring up my crappy singing voice again? With a smile on my face, I close the notebook and go get ready.
Carson picks me up at six. When I open the front door, he stares at me and clears his throat. “You look amazing.”
“Thanks.” I wouldn’t say amazing , but I did put on a little more makeup and actually thought about what to wear. Which, since this was just a business outing, made no sense at all. I look down at my light blue tank and my favorite jeans and blush. They’re not the nicest but I have to admit, the jeans make my butt look pretty good. At least that’s what my friends used to tell me.
“Hey, Carson.” Jo peeks around the corner and waves.
“Hey, Jo! Do you need my help anytime soon?”
“I’m sure I could use you this week. Just stop in anytime.” She smiles and leaves us alone.
I don’t say goodbye to Mom. I haven’t seen her since earlier. Maybe tomorrow I’ll ask her about her phone conversation with Dad and why she looks so tired all the time, but for now, I’m going to enjoy myself.
“You ready?” Carson asks.
“Yep.” My palms are sweaty and I’m sure my armpits are, too. How embarrassing. I should have worn a darker shirt.
Carson seems at ease as he walks me to his Jeep. I stare at the beast in front of me. I’ve never ridden in a Jeep before. It’s green and black and I’m sure really windy. I’m glad my hair is in a ponytail. He opens the passenger door for me and I climb in with trembling hands.
“This is nice,” I say as he climbs in the driver’s seat and starts it up.
“Thanks. She’s my baby. I named her Helga.”
Helga? I think it’s kind of goofy when guys name their cars, but I decide to keep that thought to myself.
We sit in silence as he drives down the street. I’m not sure what to say, how to act. I have no idea where to put my hands, so I keep them in my lap. I want to fold my arms, but figure I’d look uncomfortable or cold or something when I’m boiling hot. Still sweating, actually. Good times.
I don’t know where he’s taking me or what we’re going to do, I’m just glad to be out of the house with another person. And as a bonus, a really attractive and nice person.
After a few minutes of driving, he pulls into a parking lot. A bunch of cute shops line the street and he parks in front of a surfing one called Nye’s Surf Shop. He gets out and I do the same. I’m not about to make him walk around to open the door for me, which by the look on his face, he was clearly coming to do. I smile and shrug.
This isn’t a date. I have to keep reminding myself of that fact.
The air is warm and a slight breeze tousles my hair. I cross my arms and join Carson as we walk toward the shop together.
A white sign with bright blue paint sits next to the door. S URFING L ESSONS A VAILABLE . D ETAILS I NSIDE .
I’m curious if Carson is going to get someone from this shop to teach me how to surf instead of giving me lessons himself. Before I can ask, he pulls the screen door open and a little bell jingles. He waits until I walk inside and lets the door shut behind him.
The shop is amazing. Surfboards are everywhere in every color you can imagine. They hang on wires
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