Page 3 of Under the Weatherman
I swallowed the paranoid thinking, replacing it with strategy. This situation required bait, but it had to be generic enough that I could be anybody, or he might shut me down, tell me I had the wrong guy.
“It’s Elizabeth,” I said, forgetting to make up a name. Hoping Chelsea would let that go, I pressed on. “I was in your class with, uh—” If I prompted him to fill in the blanks, he could take a stab, and I could go from there.
He sucked on his lower lip, and I squeezed my fists, hoping he’d fake his way through the lie to avoid looking rude. Then he double blinked, and his smile widened. “Lizzy? Lizzy Graham?”
Oh, my fuck. I died a little inside. He wasn’t supposed tobelieveme. Was this how it felt when a parachute failed to open?
Chapter Two
Evan
“What’s past is prologue.”
The Tempest
A name from the past swam out of the foggy recesses of my memory, and as I uttered it, I braced for her to correct me. It had been years since I’d thought of Lizzy Graham. Or was it Grant? I started to apologize, tell her I’d made a mistake, but she flashed the prettiest smile. “That’s right! I can’t believe you remember me.”
It was a miracle I had. I’d blotted out most memories of high school, avoided reunions, and didn’t keep in touch with anybody. I had almost no reason to return since my parents sold our house in the neighboring county and moved away. Except here I was again, gravity pulling me back. Apparently, some people never left. In fact, Lizzy wasn’t the only ghost from my past I’d run into tonight. I was getting good at playing catch up.
“Well, how could I forget? I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you right away.”
She shot me a sassy smirk, promising an inside joke, and a memory sparked of a rail-thin blond on the bus with the middle school band, acting silly. I relaxed a little. She’d been nice to me once upon a time, unlike those fuckers who’d made my life a living hell.
I could feel Bas at my side, curious. I’d promised him we were absolutely not on the prowl for a hookup. I’d come to town to interview for a job, and all I wanted to do tonight was revisit the Downtown Mall with all the coffee shops and bars and merrymakers, but surely Bas would understand if I wanted to reconnect with an old acquaintance. I drew Lizzy’s attention to him. “This is Basil Stavros. Bas, Lizzy and I were close friends in middle school. Small world, huh?”
She shook her head, like she was as surprised as me. “It’s been a super long time. I’ve been—”
Before she could finish her thought, a dark-haired woman at the bar swiveled around and poked her. “Lizzy, were you going to introduce me to your friend?” Without waiting, she said, “Hi. I’m Chelsea Abbott.”
I hesitated, but stuck out my hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Evan Spurlock.”
“NottheEvan Spurlock?” Chelsea said, like I was famous. I sort of was in rural Indiana, but not in my own hometown. “Oh, I probably shouldn’t tell you this.” She glanced at Lizzy as if asking permission. “But ithasbeen a long time, right?”
Lizzy froze, panic in her eyes, and I braced for the worst. But she shrugged as if there was no stopping this oncoming train. “Go ahead.”
“Lizzy used to tell me about a guy named Evan Spurlock she had a major crush on in high school.” She tilted her head. “I can see why.”
I stood stunned. That was the last thing I expected her to say. She must have meant middle school, becausenobodyliked me by high school. Did she really have a crush on me? I sighed. If only I’d known.
Lizzy’s smile tightened, and as if to cut her mortification short, she turned away from me, gesturing to my best friend. “Chelsea, have you met Bas?”
Bas smiled with false bravado, like he knew the gorgeous brunette was so far out of his league, he might as well go for broke. The bigger the challenge, the more relaxed he got, like he figured if he was destined to fail anyway, he should have fun trying. Rejection never seemed to faze him. I wished I could be so cavalier.
Chelsea narrowed an eye, appraising him. “You look familiar. Have we met?”
Bas leaned in with a smolder that was undermined by the unflattering Doctor Who shirt I’d made him wear out tonight. “I think I’d remember you.”
Speaking of familiar, I stole a glance at Lizzy, trying to reconcile my gauzy memory with the woman she’d become. I could picture her at fifteen dressed just like this, in jeans, very girl-next-door cute. I had this image of us running around the neighborhood or jumping off the dock into the lake.
Was that her?
I stepped closer. “So tell me about yourself. What have you been up to?”
She puckered her lips, like she was unsure of the answer, landing on, “Hiking a lot.”
“Outdoorsy, huh?” That sounded like the girl I recalled. Always climbing trees, running around the woods.
“Definitely. You won’t catchmesitting inside curled up with a book before a roaring fire.” A cute smile curved her lips, like the very idea was ridiculous. “Libraries, am I right?” She shuddered.
