The Sound of Us by Ashley Poston Page A

team.
    I
refuse
to lose the Lining. Not after everything I’ve already given up.
    When Mom asks me to come down to the pool with her to enjoy the gorgeous day, I have half the mind to tell her there’s nothing
gorgeous
about it. The sun’s too bright and there isn’t a single cloud in the sky, which means it’s hot as balls, and excuse me if I don’t feel like baking in it. Would that be too harsh?
    I down the rest of my coffee and grab my cardkey and phone. “I’m going to the computer lounge,” I tell her as I leave.
    The computer lounge is down the hall in a humid little room with three computers and Wi-Fi. No one’s inside, so I pick the middle computer and boot it up.
    I don’t know what I’m looking for. I Google foreclosure. I Google the Silver Lining and read the two one-star reviews on Yelp. Even bad reviews that show the best about my dad’s bar—how
nice
we were, how
beautiful
the bar looked, how surprisingly
clean
for such a dive—don’t help. They don’t help me justify the foreclosure. Nothing does. Pulling my phone out of my back pocket, I dial my best friend’s number. It’s comforting, if nothing else. Two rings and she picks up.
    “I feel a disturbance in the force,” she says in greeting.
    That’s all it takes. My bottom lip wobbles and then, suddenly, I’m blubbering.
    “Whoa, whoa! Easy on the waterworks, Juniper, I can barely hear you.”
    “I’m pretty much fucked.” I sniff, rubbing my eye with the palm of my hand. “And I had an amazing night last night with that guy I met—and his friend, and we broke into a put-put course and almost got arrested and—”
    “Junie Baltimore
trespassing
? Hold the phone. I need to get this in writing. What sort of guy makes my best friend do the stupid shit only I’d do?”
    I wipe my snotty nose on my arm, leaving a trail of goo. Disgusted, I rub it off on the back of the chair. “Roman Montgomery.” The door opens to a hefty guy in a Hawaiian shirt. He gives me one look before he leaves again, secluding me to my snotty, crying pity-fest.
    “
Hello
? You still there?” I croak.
    Complete and total silence.
    Then, “OH MY GOD, YOU BROKE AND ENTERED WITH ROMAN MONTGOMERY—”
    I yank the phone away from my ear, wincing. She’s so loud, her voice echoes in the room.
    “—AND DIDN’T CALL ME? DOES THE HO-CODE MEAN NOTHING TO YOU?”
    “I didn’t think I’d ever see him again! I didn’t want to get your hopes up, I...”
    “YOU ARE THE WORST FRIEND IN THE ENTIRE WORLD AND I AM NEVER SPEAKING TO YOU AGAIN.” There is a beat of silence where I think she hangs up, but then she adds, “Does he pack right or left?”
    At that exact moment, the door opens again to the same Hawaiian shirt man. Behind him is one of the CherryTree employees. Oh, I get it. “I’m being kicked out of the computer lab, Mags. I’ll talk to you later.”
    “Are you
kidding
me?!”
    I hang up, and as I stand and shove between them into the hallway I freeze.
    “Good afternoon, sleeping beauty.” Orange hair. Suspenders. Tattoos.
    “Oh, you,” I choke in a sob.
    He studies me. If he thinks I look like hell, he doesn’t say a word. Instead, he takes his keys out of his pocket and jingles them. “Ready for a little fun?”
    “Please,” I reply with honest relief.
    “I’ll let you change first. And uh, you’re sort of leaking...”
    I rub my hand over my eye, and smear my leftover eyeliner across my face. “Yeah, thanks.”
    If Maggie’s jealous of
this
, she has another thing coming.

Chapter Sixteen
    “What I didn’t tell you yesterday,” Roman says, spinning around on his toes to face me as we walk to his minty green car. It sticks out like a sore thumb in the parking lot. No wonder the paparazzi can follow him wherever he goes. “Is that this car? Her name’s Sweet Pea, and she is a very fickle beast. Like most women are.”
    “I should take offense to that,” I reply dryly.
    He walks backwards on his toes like a kid, which is oddly