Push

5. She Had a Sale

GWEN

I had a megaphone.

The second I spied it wedged behind the doomsday stockpile of washing detergent stored in the garage, I grabbed it. It was just what I needed.

With a bit of help from one of the mums in Noah's playgroup, my revenge yard sale had gone viral, and I had a feeling my morning would be like herding a bunch of bargain-hungry cats. The sun was only just peeking over the rooftops, but people already dotted the sidewalk outside. Cars were banking up down the road. I needed to be prepared.

But holding the megaphone again only reminded me how much had changed.

A lifetime ago, one of my high school teachers had the bright idea of dragging me out of my comfort zone. I would've happily avoided all school social events, and until the day I was so helpfully 'volunteered' to rally the fans, I didn't even know about the football grand final. I was the debate captain. I had nothing to do with sports. School spirit? Some perky girl's problem. I couldn't even tell you what type of football those stupid boys were playing. There was a field. A ball. Some dudes in tight shorts and long socks. That was all I knew.

But when a teacher gave me a special assignment, you can bet your ass I was going to do it—and do it well. I dressed up in school colors. I danced with the poor kid boiling in the koala suit. And I cracked out war chants over that megaphone until the gorgeous boy with the big, broad shoulders and the perfect smile just out of braces started grinning in my direction.

At me.

The nerdy girl with the clipboard somehow caught the eye of the captain of the football team. So cliche. 

Other than a misguided crush on the golden-haired bad boy in the apartment building next door, I'd barely ever noticed a boy. I'd never had a boyfriend. Never had my first kiss. The second the footballer smiled at me, I started mapping out a make-believe future. I was giddy and lovesick. A stupid, dumb teenager.

Now, I glanced down at the megaphone gripped in my hand. The scrawled autographs of the team had faded—those days were long gone—but the ghost of that nerdy girl was standing next to me in the garage, tapping her foot and rolling her eyes as if to say, 'I told you so.'

She always knew Toby Sullivan would break my heart.

"Gwen! Where are—" Marnie's voice was cut off by the sound of boxes crashing to the concrete floor. "Shit! Shit! Shit!"

I stuffed the baby monitor in the waistband of my jeans and grabbed the box of Toby's crap from the floor. "Hey, Mar." I nodded down at the box balanced on my hip. "I think this is the last of the stuff to sell."

Marnie shot a sheepish look over her shoulder as she quickly restacked the plastic tubs in a wobbly tower by the garage door. "Look at you." Her eyes landed on the megaphone. She laughed. "My girl's serious about whooping some dentist ass."

I grinned. I really was. My cheating bastard of a husband wouldn't know what hit him when he came home.

If he ever came home.

I tried to ignore the knot in my stomach. Did Noah and I matter so little to Toby? Or had he gotten wind of the posts blowing up on social media? Maybe he was waiting for the heat to die down before he came crawling back. It was four-thirty in the morning, and he still hadn't called. Still no messages. Eventually, he'd have to come home and face the music, wouldn't he?

Marnie followed me outside and pulled up to a stop on the driveway. "What's left to do?" Her hands went to her hips. "Do you need me to hang up more buntings? Have we got enough signs and stickers?"