The Only One that I Want (PREVIEW)

Chapter 2

Young and Lost

Before

The sign read, WELCOME TO OBSCURA, OHIO. POPULATION: 507. Touching my round stomach, I thought with a bitter smile, Soon to be 509. I resisted the urge to take out the compact from my beat-up suitcase. My reflection was so not going to lift my spirits. Two pimples were forming on my forehead; my greasy hair had been unwashed for over 72 hours; and the life-form growing in my belly and perpetual cravings for artery-clogging grilled cheese sandwiches had already caused me to gain over 25 pounds. Being pregnant sucked.

I bent down and patted the front pocket in my suitcase, assured by the cash in there. Senator Price—Logan's father—was a slut-shaming bastard who had forced me to abandon my journalism studies at Middleson University, but at least he was a slut-shaming bastard who provided.

My phone beeped. A few texts from Logan:

Where the hell are you?

Is something wrong? I'm worried about you.

CALL ME AS SOON AS YOU GET THE CHANCE.

I left the messages unanswered. As part of his farewell, Senator Price had said to me, "You are to get out of town as soon as possible, never to contact my son again. Make him think you're a whore who cares so little about him that you wouldn't bother formally breaking up with him."

Charming man. No wonder people voted for him.

My stomach growled. The baby and I were hungry for some grilled cheese sandwiches. As I rolled my suitcase around town, I searched for a restaurant that would fulfill my craving. With each minute that passed, I cringed. Obscura was one sad place. Tiny dilapidated houses with patches of brown grass that I guessed were supposed to pass for lawns, a convenience store that shamelessly displayed a Confederate flag, and a run-down McDonald's with only one car in its parking lot. My hopes for grilled cheese were starting to disappear when I came across Justine's, a red and white 1950s-style diner with a "NOW HIRING" sign. I smiled, thinking I could kill two birds with one stone. After a futile attempt to straighten my hair by running my fingers through it, I strolled into the diner...

And was confronted with the single most beautiful creature I'd ever seen.

I had to close my jaw as I gazed at the blond waitress in front of me. She was so golden and gorgeous. Somehow, she made her stained apron and puke-green t-shirt look like haute couture. I prayed I didn't seem creepy as I glanced at her long and smooth legs, which were nicely accentuated by a pair of red fuck-me pumps.

"Hello?"

I blushed, seeing the annoyed expression on her face as she waved a menu at me. She must have been trying to get my attention for a good minute. "Sorry," I mumbled.

Her annoyance quickly melted into a grin. "It's okay, honey. You're lucky you're the only customer in here right now. Otherwise, I would be less patient with you. Table for one?"

"Yes, please."

She led me to a booth by a window. "This okay for you, sweetie?"

I settled into the black pleather. "Perfect."

She handed me the menu, and took out a notepad and pen. "My name is Serena, and I'll be serving you today. Can I start you off with anything to drink?"

"May I have a Coke? And does this place by any chance serve grilled cheese?"

"Of course and of course."

"Then may I have five grilled cheese sandwiches?"

She winked. "Eating for two?" Then a look of horror came across her face. "Oh my God, my mama would slap me if she was here. 'Never assume a woman is pregnant!' she always told me. I'm so sorry if you're not—"

A laugh escaped my throat. "It's okay. You're lucky I'm pregnant. Otherwise, I would be a little offended."

She exhaled. "Thank the Lord." The corners of her mouth turned up. "You and your husband must be so happy."

I couldn't hold back a grimace. "There's no husband."

"Aw, shit, I committed another faux-pas. Boyfriend? Oh Jesus, I can't keep my damn mouth shut!"

"It's fine. No boyfriend either."

She asked hopefully, "Surrogate mother?"

I shook my head with a bittersweet smile. "No."

"Oh, honey..." She sat across from me, putting a sympathetic hand on mine. "I'm guessing you're not just visiting Obscura."

"You guessed right." I needed to go to a town where I could live in total anonymity, where I wouldn't be recognized as the girl who had dated the senator's son (and eventually, the girl who had been knocked up by him). And what better place for someone to disappear in than Obscura, where the nearest Wal-Mart was two hours away and Wi-Fi was a luxury?

"Do you need somewhere to live?"

OH MY GOD, DESPERATELY. "Yeah, do you happen to know any places where I could rent a room or something?"

"It just so happens that I have a spare bedroom in my house." Then she widened her eyes. "But I'm not a crazy psychopath or anything! In case you were wondering, 'Why the hell is this stranger offering her house to me? She must be one of those serial killers who seek out girls desperate for help and kill them in her basement'—"

I teased, "Only psychopaths have to assert that they're not psychopaths."

"I wouldn't kill a damn mosquito if it bit me in the ass! Seriously, I'm not a psychopath."

"Relax, I don't think you're a serial killer." I gave her a half-smile. "But you don't even know my name. How do you know I'm not a girl who pretends to be vulnerable and feeds strangers sob stories, so she can get them to drop their defenses and literally stab them in the back?"

With total seriousness, she answered, "You have kind eyes."

I was taken aback by her reply. No one had ever complimented my eyes before. To me, they were dull like mud, hardly worthy of praise. "Um, thanks."

"What's your name by the way?"

"Ivy."

"Well, Ivy, welcome to Obscura. So what do you say to living with me? Rent is negotiable."

Normally, my first response to living with a girl I just met would be, "Hell no." But something about Serena made me trust every word she said. So I said, "Yes."

"Great! Now let me get you a Coke and grilled cheese sandwiches on the house, roomie."

"You don't have to—"

"I insist."

"Okay, if you insist." Then I asked, "Is Justine's still hiring? There's a 'NOW HIRING' sign up, but it doesn't seem like the diner needs more employees..." I gazed at the empty tables around us.

"Believe it or not, it actually gets busy here in the evenings, so if you need a job and can read, write, and carry around a couple of dishes, you're good." She winked. "I'll speak to your literacy and dish-carrying abilities to Justine."

There really was something to be said about the kindness of strangers. "Thank you."

Maybe making a fresh start wouldn't be so hard after all.