The Diary of Lexi Ashford (Lexi Ashford: Part One) (5 page)

Ignoring her, I push my way deeper into the crowd, getting stopped every other second by someone who knew Lexi T-rexi. By the time I get to the stage area where the contest is taking place, I’m socially exhausted and ready to get as far away from this tent as I possibly can.

Once I make it to the front of the mob, I spot my dad on stage, wearing a leather vest and ridiculously tight pants, cheering on my mom.

When he sees me, he gives me two thumbs up. “Lexi, you made it!”

And just like that, the entire crowd is staring at me.

“Lexi Ashford?”

“Lexi T-rexi, is that you?”

“Lexi, you’re back!”

“Lexi Ashford, I can’t believe it.”

“Man, you’ve changed. Hasn’t she changed?”

“You look weird.”

“What happened to you?”

“Oh, my God, it’s the kangaroo shirt girl.”

Oh, my God, just kill me now.

“I’ll be down when this is over, honey!” my dad calls out from the stage.

“I’ll wait in my car,” I shout back then head out.

I want to add a “peace out, bitches,” but instead, I just bolt for the exit, freaking out.

When I make it outside, I run around to the side of the tent and slump against the side.

Letting my head fall forward, I take a few measured breaths. “Just chill out,” I tell myself. “You’re not Lexi T-rexi anymore. You’re just Lexi who graduated college and lived in the city for eight years.”

A pair of dark boots suddenly appears in my line of vision. “I thought I heard a rumor you were back.”

“God, I forgot how fast gossip spreads around here …” As I lift my head, I trail off.

Anders Mackay, the guy I was secretly in love with all during high school, is standing in front of me. He’s a couple of years older than me, and back in the day, he was the star athlete of almost every team. He was also popular and way out of my league. And not just because I was unpopular. Back then, I sucked at talking to guys. Every time I came close to striking up a conversation with him, I ended up sounding like Yoda.

He’s still completely hot, even if he is rocking acid-washed, parachute pants. His shoulders are broad, his arms muscular, and his blond hair is styled in an intentionally messy way.

“You can’t blame them for getting this excited,” he says to me with a hint of playfulness in his tone. “It’s not every day we get a visit from city folk.” He does the crappiest impression of a hillbilly voice at the end, but it makes me laugh.

“I’m not visiting,” I admit and mentally fist bump myself for not scrambling up my sentences. “I moved back.”

He seems surprised. “Really?”

I nod, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “For a month or two, anyway.”

“That’s cool. I’m sure your parents are happy about it.” He pauses, studying me closely. “You don’t seem that happy about it, though.”

“I’m not. I loved living in the city. There was always so much to do. Even at two o’clock in the morning, there’s all sorts of wild stuff going on. Here … Well, the only thing you really can do at two o’clock in the morning is streak down Main Street.” I flash him a smirk.

“Hey, I only did that one time on a dare.” He grins. “And you’re wrong.”

“About what?”

“About nothing to do at two o’clock in the morning.”

“What? Did Fairville finally upgrade and get a club or something?” I say, joking.

“We actually did.” He winks at me. “It’s all the rage right now.”

“I bet it is,” I say, giving him a come-on-and-be-serious look. “The only way a club would ever open here is if the no-loud-music-after-nine-o’clock ban was lifted. And that’ll never happen.”

“It did happen, about a year ago, after Benny left the town committee. Things kind of lightened up after that. They’ve even toned down on all the contests and fairs.”

I scrunch up my nose at the tent behind me. “Clearly, not enough of them.”

“We wouldn’t be Fairville if we didn’t have some contests.” His smile is contagious.

I find myself grinning in spite of the fact that I have a clear view of Carrie Lynn, standing just a ways away, waving at me like a lunatic. She gives me a thumbs up and mouths,
I’ll wait until you’re done
.

“I know you’re probably too cool for all of this stuff now,” Anders continues, “but deep down, I remember the old Lexi who used to run around, dressed up as a piece of cherry pie, handing out flyers for this very event.”

“Hey, I did that for the cash, not to show town spirit or anything like that,” I tell him lightly. “I was saving up so I could get the hell out of here right after graduation.”

“Yeah, I remember.” He stuffs his hands into his pockets. “You didn’t even stick around for any of the parties.”

“I really wasn’t a party girl back then.”

“But you are now?”

I decide to go bold on this one, take a risk. It’s not like I have anything left to lose. “I don’t know. I guess you’ll have to find out for yourself, won’t you?”

When he remains silent, I worry I might have crossed a line. Maybe he has a girlfriend. Fuck, maybe he’s married.

I subtly glance down at his finger.
Please don’t have a ring on.
His ring finger is bare, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t seeing someone.

“I guess I will,” he finally says in a flirtatious tone.

Thank the heavens and fate!

Hmmm … Maybe being back here won’t be all bad. Of course, going out with Anders would be breaking my rule of no dating hot guys, only average-Joe weirdoes.

“I’m glad you’re back,” he says. “I wanted to know you more in high school, but you always seemed to run in the other direction whenever I tried to talk to you.”

“Really?” I’m not about to believe he wanted to get to know the dorky girl in the kangaroo shirt, the girl who used to rock a lot of mismatched sneakers, side ponytails, and over-sized plaid shirts.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he teases. “I wasn’t as shallow as everyone thought.”

“You barely said two words to me in high school.”

“So did you to me.”

“Yeah, but I was shy.”

“So was I.”

I bite on my lip, fighting back a smile. “Okay, you went a little too far with the shy part. I maybe would’ve bought that you just didn’t know what to say to me, but you weren’t shy. You were Mr. High School Fairville Star, for God’s sake.”

I can’t help laughing at the memory of that silly high school pageant where dudes dressed up and paraded around on stage, performing their talents in hopes of winning a trophy like beauty queen pageants.

He points a finger at me. “Hey, my girlfriend made me enter that.”

“Sure she did.” I playfully bump my shoulder against his so he knows I’m kidding.

He shakes his head, but he’s grinning. “Hey, maybe we could—”

“I’m supposed to tell you that you need to be up onstage to pick a winner in ten,” a guy suddenly appears out of nowhere.

When I glance at him, my eyes pop wide. “Sexy Stranger?”
Shit. I didn’t mean to say that out loud!

His lips pull to a cocky half-smile, but before he can open his mouth, I cut him off.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, crossing my arms.

His gaze briefly flicks to Anders then lands back on me. “Maybe I should be asking you the same thing.” Amusement dances in his eyes.

“I live here,” I tell him. “Or, well, I used to. But I just moved back … only for a little while. Then I’m going back to the city… hopefully sooner rather than later. That is, unless my soul gets sucked dry by a unicorn cult.”

Insert birds and crickets chirping with blank stares.

“Sorry, inside joke.” I mentally roll my eyes at myself. “Okay, now you go.”

“You want to know why I’m here?” Sexy Stranger seems even more amused.

I nod.
Why is this question so hard for him to answer?

Instead of answering, he stares at me, as if waiting for me to figure it out all on my own.

“Lexi, this is my brother Evan.” Anders gives his brother a pat on the shoulder while aiming a pressing catch-the-fuck-on look at me. “You went to school with him. You guys were even in the same grade.”

This should be where I get an ah-ha! moment, but nope, nothing. No recognition click. No, oh-yeah-I-remember-you-from-that-one-class. I have no idea how that’s possible and not just because this Evan dude is hot as hell. I thought I knew everyone who lived here, but apparently not.

Rather than admitting that and looking like a douchebag, I fake it. “Oh, yeah, duh. Evan. Your brother.” I slam the heel of my hand to my forehead. “I can’t believe I forgot you two were brothers. Sorry. Ditz move.”

Anders totally buys my bullshit, grinning as he gives his brother’s shoulder a little shake. Evan, on the other hand, reads right through my shit and stares me down hard. I swear to God, he doesn’t even blink. It’s freakin’ unnatural and makes me so uncomfortable I actually contemplate rolling under the tent to hide.

The tension shatters when Anders claps his hands together. “All right, I have to go eat some pie.” He glances at me. “You’re not taking off yet, are you?”

I want to, but since my dad hasn’t come out yet, I can’t. “Not yet.”

“Good.” He backs toward the entrance of the tent. “I want to get your number before you take off. My phone isn’t on me, but I can get it out of my car afterward.”

Smiling, I watch him walk back into the tent, shamelessly checking out his ass. Normally, this is when I’d do my heck-to-the-yeah dance, but I decide to refrain and spare Evan the pain of having to witness it.

“So, Anders is your brother, huh?” I say to Evan after a beat or two of silence goes by. “No wonder I thought I recognized you when I bumped into you in the city. You took off so fast I didn’t get a chance to put two and two together.”

Evan relaxes a bit. “Yeah, sorry about that. Trevor’s kind of a handful. He’s a cool kid and everything, but he can be intense.”

“Yeah, I bet.” I glance at Carrie Lynn who is still gawking at me with a big smile on her face, then force myself to keep the conversation going, knowing the moment I stop talking, she’ll bombard me. “Where is the Spawn of Satan, anyway?”

Evan shrugs. “Probably with his mom.”

“Is she here? Should I be worried I’m about to be attacked by a public artist again?” I half joke, but I am a bit worried. I really like the pants I’m wearing.

He chuckles, and I decide I like his laugh. It’s deep and husky and lights up his eyes. “No, Kat lives in the city. And the Spawn of Satan lives with her, so your pants aren’t in danger.” I must look confused because he adds, “I saw you glance down at them when you thought he was here.”

“They’re my favorite,” I admit. “They make my butt look fantastic.”

He smashes his lips together, his gaze wandering downward. I consider turning around and busting out my best Beyoncé move, but decide that might be too much for a guy I just met.

“Do you live in the city, too?” I assume he does, since his kid lives there. It makes sense, too, since he’s the only other person here, besides me, who isn’t rockin’ bitchin’ 80s attire. “I’m so jealous. I’ve only been away for four hours, and I already miss it.”

His brows knit. “No … I live here.”

He must be divorced then. Or he never married the mom of his child.

“Oh, so you were just out there to see Trevor. Got it.”

Confusion laces his expression, but then something clicks. “Trevor’s my nephew, Lex. His mom is my older sister. I drive into the city sometimes to do stuff for my business, and she always ropes me in to babysitting. You’d think I’d learn my lesson and tell her no, but”—he shrugs—“I’ve always been a pushover.”

The fact that he called me Lex throws me off. Only people I’m close to call me that. Maybe it was just a coincidence, or maybe I really do know him and I am just too ditzy to place him.

I rack my brain for someone I went to high school with who was known as a pushover, like Evan said he is. All that comes to mind, though, is Toby, Beg Like a Dog, Shoby. He got the nickname when he got down on his hands and knees and begged like a dog in front of the entire school, all so a girl would go out with him. A little strange, especially when they were dating and the girl would randomly command him to do strange things. Toby bark. Toby sit. Toby lick my feet and tell me I’m pretty. The two of them dated all through high school, and I heard they got married a couple of years ago and now own a pet store downtown.

“You still have no clue who I am.” Evan’s voice breaks through my thoughts.

“I …” I feel like an asshole. “I’m so sorry. I wish I did, but I can’t figure it out. I didn’t really hang out with the popular kids, so I’m guessing you did, and maybe that’s why. Please, don’t hate me.”

He assesses me until a speaker to our right buzzes, and a voice comes on to announce that the pie contest results are in.

“
Gather around, everyone
,” the man says. “
It’s time to get this shindig started and get high on some pie.
”

“I wasn’t popular, not even close.” Evan heads for the entrance of the tent. “And I don’t hate you, not at all.”

The way he says it, as if we shared some sort of connection, drives me absolutely mad, I tell you!
Come on, Lexi; figure it out!

“I’ll figure this out, Sexy Stranger,” I say. “I’m starting an investigation as soon as I get home, and let me tell you; I’m like freakin’ Veronica Mars, dude.”

He chuckles, shaking his head before ducking into the tent.

I stroll away, smiling and vowing to myself that I’ll figure this mystery out.

Chapter 7

I make it a whole ten feet from the tent before Carrie Lynn darts toward me, flailing her arms in the air.

“Lexi! Yoo-hoo! I need to talk to you.”

I flip a U-turn and scramble in the opposite direction.

“Lexi Ashford, are you running away from me?” A high-pitched laugh mixed with a squeal bursts from her lips. “You’re so funny! I forgot how funny you are.”

I veer right, swinging around to the back of the tent, quickening my pace to a sprint. I push past a few people who say my name and ask what I’m doing, but I just wave at them as I round the tent, coming up on the other side. When I’ve almost done a full circle, I sprint like hell for the parking lot.