Lorelie vs the Life of Summer Rose

Chapter 9

 I find Summer in my room the next morning after I come back from my shower. She's sitting on my unmade couch bed with her legs crossed, frowning down at a jacket. My jacket. The one I forgot to give back to the twins when they dropped me off and I said goodbye. Shit.

"What's this?" she demands.

I squeeze the ends of my hair with the towel, suddenly fascinated. "What's what?"

"This."

"A jacket."

"It's not my jacket."

"No, it's not."

"It's not my dad's, either. You've hardly spoke."

"And that would be weird."

"Yes, that would be weird. But it's a men's size." She sets the jacket down in her lap and squints at me. "So whose it?"

I consider my options. I could lie to her, but if she knows I'm lying then that could be very, very bad. I also have no idea how I would twist this situation into a lie— do I say I have no idea what that is? Do I try to manipulate her into thinking I had this jacket the entire time? What if she thinks that I snuck male company into her house and did bad things while she was sleeping? That would be bad. Very bad.

Alright. That means I might have to tell the truth. But the truth is equally as bad.

So I opt for silence.

"Lorelie."

"Uh-huh."

"Whose jacket is this?"

"How does my hair look?" I comb my fingers through it. "I was getting into haircare before I arrived here. But I'm only a rookie. Does it look healthy? You know, I used to be really into dying my hair."

"It looks impeccable," she says flatly.

"That's good. Probably won't last for long, though. I need to get a job and buy my products all over again." I pause. "Do you think that's possible for me?"

"My mum would happily hire you."

"That's a bit awkward."

"You know what's awkward?" Summer cocks her head. Her doll-like features make the small movement much more unsettling than it needs to be, and I gulp. "This random jacket. In your room. And the fact you won't tell me who it belongs to. Judging from how you keep evading me, I know it's not yours. Don't even try to manipulate me— you missed that opportunity."

I press my lips together. "Fine. Don't be mad."

"Is it James'?"

"What?" I gag. "Ew, no. It's one of the twins'. James' brothers. And before you guess the worst of me I went out for fresh air last night and they gave me their jacket to keep warm. I forgot to give it back."

Her mouth falls open. "The twins?"

I wince. "You make it sound like it's worse than James. What's up?"

"You don't mean Graham and Beckett Lynch, right? Not the Lynch Twins."

"I think so. I don't know their last names. I quite literally met them last night and forgot to ask." I dump the towel on the bed and drop into the space next to her. "But that sounds about right. Why?"

She looks like she's about to have a stroke. "James hates them. They're menaces and they break the law. You should see them at school, Lorelie. They're so disrespectful."

"To be fair, they hate him too."

"But James isn't a menace."

I raise a brow. "He takes you out on a date and then rejects you? Not a menace at all."