ChapterTwo
Lucy
When my phone buzzes against the table, I decide to take a break from unpacking. I stand from the bookshelf where I was unloading my books and stretch.
Most of my friends are still in Seattle, enjoying their last summer before college. I had to get out. I couldn’t stand it anymore. This is my chance to be free and do all the things my mom would never let me do.
Well, not all the things. I mean, I don’t want to do drugs. Then again, pot’s legal in California, so I’ll probably give that a shot at some point. It’s legal in Washington too, but I never dared, not with Mom’s random drug tests.
Yes, she threatened all the time, but only did it twice while I was in high school. While all my friends were out having fun, I was stuck under my mother’s thumb. The hard part is that I love her and we get a long great for the most part, but I think she loves me a little too much.
When she said she wouldn’t pay for the dorms, I took my chance. I wanted to make my first life decisions, so I found this little studio apartment near campus where a lot of other students live. Mom had a nice one bedroom, picked out, but it was much more expensive and when I looked on reddit, I realized that it was mostly older, married students and a few professors who lived there. No thanks.
With a sigh, I pick my phone up off the little cafe table that sits between the little galley kitchen and the living room/bedroom/the entirety of my apartment. When I unlock the screen, my heart seizes.
Before I packed up and drove down to Stanford — by myself and against Mom’s wishes — She made sure I had Parker’s number. He hasn’t been my stepdad for a while, but I know that he and Gramps keep in touch.
It’s not that I didn’t want to reach out and see how Parker was doing, but I didn’t have the nerve to do it. He’s… well, he’s amazing. He’s my ultimate fantasy. No guy I’ve ever met measures up to Parker.
Parker’s exactly my type, just a little too old for me. He’s what my friends call nerdy chic. He’s totally a computer nerd, like me, but he’s also an avid cyclist with a gorgeous toned body and a great sense of style.
He was always willing to help me with my homework and was even the one who turned me on to computer programming. He taught me Python, and believe me that was probably not easy for him because I spent more time watching the way his long fingers moved over the keys of the keyboard and reveling in the melodic tone of his voice than I actually spent listening to the words he was saying.
But my love for programming bloomed and now I’m studying computer science in the Mecca of programming — Silicon Valley. I’m hoping that by next summer, I’ll have a high paying internship lined up that will be enough for me to start paying my own way. Then I can tell my mom that I love her, but she doesn’t get to pull the strings anymore.
I read the text three times.Hey, Luc, your mom wants me to check up on you, but I was thinking I’d just take you out to lunch instead. I can show you around and let her know you’re alive without telling her anything you’re actually doing. Let me know, Parker.
My smile is too big, it hurts my cheeks. Lunch with Parker? Yes, please. Maybe I’ll test out the waters and tell him that I’m thinking about trying to pot. If I get a text from my mom within twenty-four hours after that saying she’s coming in for a visit, I’ll know he can’t be trusted. After a few deep breaths, I type out a reply.
I have nothing but time until classes start.
He doesn’t reply for a few minutes and I’m wondering if I should have played it cool. Just when I’ve about given up that he’ll reply, my phone buzzes.
I have time today or tomorrow.
I look at the clock. It’s almost ten. Should I pick today? Who am I kidding? Part of me hopes that if I choose today, he’ll take me out tomorrow, too.
Today would be good. It’ll give me a break from unpacking. Do you want to meet me somewhere?
This time, his reply is immediate.How about I pick you up in an hour so we can beat most of the lunch rush? Your mom texted me your address and your class schedule, so I’m good to go if you are.
Of course she did *eyeroll emoji*. See you in an hour.
I spend fifteen minutes moving around my apartment like a tornado. Mom bought me a Murphy bed that folds up into a cupboard that looks like a cabinet behind a sofa that’s connected to it. I don’t want him to see my bed and think I’m throwing myself at him, so I fold the bed away and put all the cushions back onto the sofa.
Once the space looks presentable, I rush through a shower, exfoliating and putting on my favorite lotion. Not that Parker will touch me much, but just in case. I put on a cute little summer dress that falls to mid-thigh and some sandals that have a little heel because Parker’s over six feet tall and I’m only five-five.
I stress a little too much over my makeup because I want to look like I have flawless skin and to highlight my eyes, but I also want to look effortless, like I didn’t try super hard and spend almost the entire hour getting ready for his arrival.
I’m just finishing my hair when there’s a knock on the door. I open it, expecting to see Parker, but there’s another man at my door.
“Hey neighbor,” he says. “I’m Dan. I live next-door and I noticed some guys delivering furniture, so I figured you were moving in before classes start. I wanted to introduce myself and offer myself up as tour guide to show you around. I assume you’re a freshman at Stanford?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Great. I’m a junior this year. I’ve lived in these apartments since last year. Most of the tenants are students. It’s not that much different from the dorms. We all get to know each other and, of course, there are parties pretty often, especially after finals. There’s usually a mixer down by the pool area once school starts. If you give me your number, I can let you know when it’s happening.”
I open my mouth to respond, but am cut off.