Happenstance by Jamie McGuire Read Free Book Online

someone like Weston Gates wanting anything else
from me.
    I rushed to my room to change and gathered my things. A minute
later, I was behind Weston, hurrying him outside. Once we got into his truck, I
sighed. “I wish you wouldn’t have done that. I didn’t want you to see my house.”
    “Why not?”
    “It’s filthy. It smells.”
    “All I smelled was weed. Your mom is baked,” he said, amused.
When he realized I wasn’t, he reached over for my forearm. “Hey. It’s a house,
Erin. It’s not a big deal. I don’t care where you live.”
    “It’s just humiliating,” I said, wiping a tear away. “I didn’t
want you to see that.”
    Weston pulled away from the curb, his jaw working under his skin.
“I didn’t mean to make you cry, Erin, I’m sorry. I thought it was nicer than
picking you up from the DQ. I thought I’d introduce myself to your mom.”
    “She’s not my mom,” I said staring out the window.
    “Huh?”
    “Her name is Gina.”
    “Are you adopted?”
    “No. But,” I looked over at him, “do you ever get the feeling
that you belong somewhere else?”
    “All the time,” he said, sounding exhausted.
    “I’ve never felt like her daughter. Not even when I was little.”
    “Maybe it’s because she’s the way she is? She doesn’t seem like
the mom type.”
    “She’s not.”
    “Then it makes sense that you would feel that way.”
    We weren’t driving out of town like we usually did. Instead, we
were driving to the south side, where many of the doctors and attorneys lived.
Weston’s parents built a huge house on a lot there when we were in middle
school. He pulled into his driveway and under the arch that attached the house
to one of the garages. The spot was enclosed by garage doors, the side of the
house, and a gate to the backyard.
    When he turned off the engine, I shook my head. “I’m not going in
there.”
    “Oh, quit it,” Weston said, pressing the garage door opener.  Hopping
down, he slammed his door and then jogged around to my side, opening my door
with a wide grin. When I didn’t budge, his face fell. “Don’t be such a baby.”
    I slowly climbed down and followed him into the garage and
through a door. The house was dark, but a television was on somewhere. The dim
blue light grew brighter as we approached the kitchen.
    “Weston?” a woman called.
    “I’m home, Mom!” he called back. He slipped my backpack off my
shoulders and set it on the counter.
    “Weston, what are you doing?” I said through my teeth, getting
angrier by the second.
    His mother walked into the kitchen, her highlighted hair and oval
face accentuating her amazing green eyes. It was clear who Weston favored. She
stopped, surprised to see me. I wanted to crawl under the counter.
    “Who’s this?” she said, with fake cheerfulness in her voice.
    “Erin Easter.” He looked at me. “This is my mom, Veronica.”
    “Nice to meet you,” I choked out.
    She gave me a once over, visibly unimpressed with my appearance.
Her eyes critically assessed me like I was a parasite that had infiltrated her
home and needed to be exterminated. Weston didn’t seem to notice. He opened the
pantry, grabbed a bag of chips, a jar of salsa, and two bananas then pulled a
couple of cold cans of Cherry Coke from the fridge.
    “We’re going downstairs,” he said.
    “Weston Allen,” Veronica began.
    “Night, Mom,” he said, guiding me in front of him toward a door
down the hall. I grabbed my backpack and walked slowly, unsure of where to go.
    “This one,” Weston said.
    I opened it, and he walked past, using his elbow to flip on the
light, revealing a flight of stairs leading to a lower level. When we reached
the bottom, we walked into a vast room with couches, a couple of televisions, a
gaming system, a wet bar, exercise equipment, a pool table, and an air hockey
table.
    That one room was bigger than my entire house.
    “Whoa,” I said quietly, letting Weston lead me to the couch.
    “This is my space. They