No Place Like Homecoming, Dallen, Maggie [beach read book .TXT] 📗

I hadn’t heard from Logan since our video chat, during which he’d told me basically nothing. No promises had been made. No words of encouragement or of how much he’d missed me.

The photo Taylor had sent had said way more than Logan ever had. I waited for a pang of pain at the memory of that photo.

No pang came. I stared down at the ugly dress. It wasn’t like we’d been in a commitment. It wasn’t like he’d done anything wrong.

He hadn’t broken any promises, and he definitely hadn’t broken my heart. He’d just...forgotten about me, that was all.

I’d been forgotten.

I squeezed my eyes shut and then opened them to glance over at my phone. My mom was supposed to call this morning.

She hadn’t.

Not that it mattered or anything. Dad never called so it wasn’t like I’d thought he’d make an exception today. Taylor had sent me a few more drunken texts last night from that party. Mostly giving me the lowdown on every girl Logan talked to and for how long.

No more pictures had been sent, at least.

But I’d had this sick feeling as I fell asleep that Taylor had been finding it all way more entertaining than she ought.

Like, despite the frowny face emoji, she’d been enjoying the fact that I’d lost my shot with my dream guy.

Another knock at my door and then there was Aunt Lucy’s exasperated sigh.

I was becoming very familiar with that sigh.

“You don’t want to be late on your first day of work, do you?”

I didn’t want to work at all. I eyed my reflection and bit the inside of my cheek to keep from crying.

How had this happened? How had I fallen so low?

I was wearing gingham, for crying out loud. I was wearing white ankle socks that even a twelve year old wouldn’t be caught dead in. “What has become of my life?” I whispered to my reflection.

“I leave in two minutes, with or without you,” my aunt shouted.

The party would be starting up any minute now, and Flynn was probably there already, helping to set up the catering station. Then he’d be in charge of photographing my humiliation for posterity.

Neat.

I’d probably see him when I walked out there to do my part in this stupid little skit. I’d see the guy who’d kissed me like he’d meant it. The guy who’d looked at me like he saw...more. Right before he’d walked away from me in disgust.

I winced. Understandably. I should have asked him about the ride first. I should have explained before he’d heard it from one of the girls. I should have focused on what I’d wanted from him rather than get distracted.

And I had been distracted in a big way. Even before he’d kissed me, my head had been spinning. My heart had been pounding and I’d felt this...tug. Like there’d been some invisible rope between us that pulled me toward him. And then he’d leaned in close and there was nothing else. There was no one but him.

I’d even forgotten all about Logan.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. I blamed Logan. That picture of him and the other girl...was it any wonder I’d lost my mind and gone off-script? He wasn’t supposed to find out about my need to get home from Callie and the others. That was how this all went wrong.

I’d had a plan. The plan had involved making Flynn like me, and then asking him for a ride. Flirting had always been part of the plan. I mean, how else was I supposed to get a guy to like me?

Had I come on a little strong?

Maybe.

Okay, yes. Definitely. But it wasn’t like I had time to spare here, now was it? If I couldn’t get him to take me with him on his road trip, that was it. I was out of options. I might as well write off my life right here and now.

And judging by the way he’d stormed off, his answer was a big fat no.

I took a deep breath, met my own gaze in the mirror with a glare and ordered myself to pull it together. “Suck it up, buttercup,” I hissed. Then I grabbed my stupid wicker basket prop and marched out the door—

And straight into my Aunt Lucy.

My Aunt Lucy who took one look at me and burst out laughing.

Awesome. Because I’d thought this day just couldn’t get any worse, but I’d been wrong. Being laughed at by the least fashionable boomer on the planet now set a new bar for how low I could go.

“We’re going to be late,” I muttered as I strode past her, my ruby slippers clattering on the floor because even with the stuffing, they didn’t stay on right. I beat her to the car and got in before anyone could see me.

Not like that would help matter when I got to the party. But at least I’d never see these people ever again, right? At least, once this was all over, I could find a way to get home and…

And what?

Beg my parents to let me stay? I chewed on my lower lip and Aunt Lucy got behind the wheel and started the car. “Have you heard from my mom lately?”

“Mmm,” she said, her tone already vague like she wasn’t sure she wanted to answer. “I talked to her this morning.”

“You did? She didn’t call me.” Why I made this sound like an accusation, I didn’t even know. It was habit.

She shot me a sidelong look I couldn’t read.

“Well?” I said.

“Well what?”

“What did she say?” I half turned to face my aunt as much as my seat belt would allow. “Are they ready to bring me home?”

The next sidelong look was much easier to interpret and it had me whipping back around to stare straight ahead so I didn’t have to see it.

I didn’t need her pity. I didn’t need anyone’s pity, least of all hers.

As if her life was all that great.

“She didn’t say