Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 77936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“Lovelorn is hardly as attractive as Durango to tourists.” Maverick scoffed. “It’s the bean capital of the world. The new biofuel plant was the major news of the decade.”
“Yep. Plant opened, brought a few new faces to town.” I was surprised Maverick had kept up with the town that much. Maybe there was hope for him yet. “Developers have been sniffing around. For people priced out of Durango, Lovelorn would do just fine. And if not land-grabbing developers, a corporate farm will swoop in and be just as bad for the area.”
Either choice would be terrible as a corporate farm meant profits over people with lower wages and worse land practices, especially regarding water rights, which Maverick’s father had always been generous with. Pricing out the locals with hobby ranches would dry up employment and affect many of my friends, family, and fellow townsfolk who lived paycheck to paycheck as it was.
“Change happens. Even in Lovelorn.” Maverick sliced right through any hope I had that he might see reason.
“Look, I know your dad did a number on you and Faith. But this town loved you both. Raised you.” I made my voice sterner. Compassion hadn’t worked, but maybe good old-fashioned guilt would. “Your dad wasn’t beloved by any means, but his loss is still gonna be felt by many. Don’t make it worse.”
“I’m sorry. Truly.” Looking down, Maverick studied his hands. “But we have to sell.”
Chapter 2
Maverick
Then: Summer Before Freshman Year
Pow. Pow. Pow. The more I fired the buttons, the better I felt. Take that aliens. And that. Pow. Pow. Pow. The old arcade machine shook slightly from the force of my button smashing, and still, I played on. I wasn’t about to waste my second to last quarter.
Dun Dun Duh! Tinny music sounded as I finished a level. As I waited for the next level to load, someone tapped me on the shoulder from behind.
“Hey.”
“What do you want?” I whirled to find Colt Jennings standing there.
He’d been helping in the back when I’d arrived at his aunt’s little diner in downtown Lovelorn. As the county seat, we had a small downtown with the county courthouse at one end and the sheriff’s station at the other, next to the firehouse. In between were a few blocks of small businesses, including this freestanding diner. I’d been in a crappy mood even before I hitched a ride to town with Faith, and an hour of playing arcade games hadn’t done nearly enough to help.
“You don’t have to keep feeding it quarters.” Colt was in my grade. Couldn’t say we were friends, but then, I didn’t have any of those. He’d always been around, though, as long as I could remember. He was quiet but respectful and helpful, the sort of teacher’s favorite I’d never managed to be.
“How else am I supposed to play?” I scoffed.
“My aunt keeps these games for fun.” One thing about Colt, he never got riled up. Never got mad. Just kept right on with what he’d come to say, same as if I hadn’t been rude. “There’s a switch that lets you play for free. She sent me over to flip it. But if you’re not interested…”
“I’m almost out of quarters.” I stepped aside so he could fiddle with a key on the underside of the machine, near where the money could be removed. “Thanks.” I could have left it at that, but something, whether guilt or boredom, made me add, “You play?”
“Only every day.” Colt snorted. “One-player mode sucks though.”
I’d already encountered the limitations of playing against the machine, enough to find myself nodding in agreement.
“Who knows when Faith will be done at the salon.” I tried to sound as casual as Colt always managed. Faith called me dramatic. My dad called me worse. But I didn’t want to think about that. “You wanna play me?”
“Reckon I could.” Colt had disinterested agreeableness down to an art form. I needed to learn from him.
I also could stand to learn his approach to the game. He killed alien baddies with methodical precision, never getting too agitated or animated but keeping his focus like one of the barn cats stalking a mouse.
“You boys hungry?” Colt’s Aunt Georgia strode over to us. She was a tall, top-heavy woman with a booming voice that echoed in the near-empty diner. All the kids who frequented the old diner located in a low-slung white building with an uneven parking lot called her Aunt Georgia as well. She was popular for more than just the row of arcade machines in the back of the diner.
“I could eat.” Turning away from our game, Colt gave a slow nod. “Thank you.”
“Of course you could.” Aunt Georgia ruffled his dark hair, which was buzzed short for summer. “You’ve got to put on muscle before tryouts.” She turned toward me next but, thankfully, didn’t try to touch me. “You gonna try for the team too, Maverick? Make Mel Junior proud?”