SIX MONTHS (A Seven Series Novel)

“Neither of us eats that junk and God knows how long it’s been in there. Is it our machine, or does it belong to an outside vendor?”

 

 

Lexi twisted her mouth to the side. “Good question. I’m not sure. If it’s ours, the key might be in one of the envelopes at home. I bet this bad boy is ours. I’ve seen those cute vendors in their shorts refilling the machines in some of the stores, so I know someone would have come around asking about it by now,” she said, patting her hand on the glass. “The last time I bought something was two months ago. Only an idiot would put a snack machine in a candy store.”

 

“We stare at sugar all day long and that’s what Charlie gave us to snack on? May he rest in peace, but that man didn’t have his head screwed on right.”

 

We both laughed and Lexi fished out a few coins from a Styrofoam cup we kept on top of the machine. “Oh my God, wouldn’t it be awesome if it’s ours? We can put whatever we want in it. Cookies?”

 

“I like animal crackers.”

 

She wrinkled her nose.

 

“Ding Dongs?” I suggested.

 

“Now you’re talking. A man machine. My friend, Naya, would totally love that concept. What kind do you want? Dark and handsome, tattooed and dangerous, a sexy jock, nerdy and hot…”

 

“That’s not what I meant.” I removed a candy barrette from my pocket and clipped my bangs away from my face. The hard rain made a clamor against the rooftop.

 

“I know what you meant, April. We could always put PMS pills in there,” she said with a snort. “Sorry, just having some fun. What’s wrong with you today? You’re always in a better mood.”

 

“You’re asking me what’s wrong while tornado sirens are blaring outside?” The lights flickered and my heart did a quickstep. I felt an urge to run outside. Despite the fact it was storming, being in the open made me feel safe. I hated the dark.

 

Hated.

 

I’d been known to have panic attacks in a dark room.

 

Lexi sat on the bench and fumbled with her new phone, sending a text message. “Austin says everyone is okay at the house,” she said in a distant voice. “The storm is south of them and all they see are a few dark clouds. He wants us to sit tight.”

 

“Sounds like a man with a plan,” I said facetiously. “What was our other option? Because I was thinking we could dance naked in the street with a few gumdrops stuck to our nipples.”

 

Lexi burst out laughing and texted feverishly with a devilish grin. Then her brows popped up and I knew she was giving Austin the full visual. I could only imagine what his reply was.

 

A terrible thought crossed my mind. What if something happened to my trailer?

 

My grandma was sixty-five when she died from lung cancer two years ago. It didn’t come as a surprise since her health had been declining. Some people inherited money, jewelry, or even a house when a family member died. I got a trailer and a stack of bills. The student loans weren’t as bad as I’d imagined, and as tough as it was, I didn’t drop out. Rose had worked part time and helped with some of the expenses until I got a job at Sweet Treats. Grandma had given us a roof over our heads and fussed a lot, but we were grateful she’d taken us in after Mom had left us. Each Friday, she made a trip to the gas station and bought a wad of scratch-off lottery tickets and a carton of Marlboros. I’d had no idea how much debt she had incurred until after her death. Maybe if she’d taken out a loan from the bank it might have gone away, but I quickly found out she’d dealt exclusively with loan sharks. These men didn’t let a coffin get in the way of getting back their money. I had to ignore them for a while until the funeral was paid for, but after that, I squared away her debt. I was finally in a good place where I could put aside money and save for an apartment.

 

I bent my knees when something rapped against the glass at the front of the store. “Do you think the hail will blow out the windows?”

 

Lexi stood up and peered around the doorway. “Hail doesn’t fly sideways. Well, usually. Someone’s outside—be right back.”

 

“Lexi, this is the part of the horror movie where I’m supposed to scream don’t do it! But that’s okay. Let the serial killer inside. Be sure to show him the cash drawer while you’re at it!” I yelled at the empty doorway.

 

The bell jingled and I grabbed my oversized brown purse and dug around for my charcoal eyeliner. I flipped open a compact and did a little touch-up. Not that I needed makeup, but it kept me from going into freak-out mode. Thirty more minutes, I kept telling myself. Severe storms ended quickly unless there was a squall line.

 

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