you’ll have to tuck your hair up under the hat, and maybe add a fake mustache.”
McKenna cracks up at that. I shoot her a glare over my shoulder and she whips her attention right back to her textbook. She’s not supposed to be listening to any of this absurd plan.
“It won’t work,” I say definitively.
His shoulders sag in defeat. “So you don’t even want to try?”
“Pfft.” I reach down for the jeans and hold them up against my waist. I’ll have to tighten them with a rope or something, but they should stay up. “I didn’t say that—of course I’ll try. Just don’t be shocked when they send me packing.”
Chapter 5
Taylor
The decision to dress like a guy was impulsive and half-baked. I passed on the fake mustache and any other over-the-top disguise, but I still look completely ridiculous, like I’ve stolen my big brother’s clothes for a Halloween costume. My jeans are rolled up twice at the ankles and cinched at the waist with a thin piece of rope. On top, I layered one of Jeremy’s flannel shirts over a plain white t-shirt. Even with the sleeves pushed up to my elbows, it shrouds my body like a blanket. There was no other option, though; with it tucked in, it revealed too much of my figure. Even though it looks rather absurd, it has to stay untucked and baggy.
McKenna helped me spin my hair into a bun and pin it down underneath the baseball hat. Last night, as we discussed the plan, Jeremy grabbed a pair of scissors from our junk drawer and suggested I just chop it off. McKenna and I both screamed at him to put the scissors down. Needless to say, my long hair is staying put underneath the hat.
Fortunately, the only-slightly-too-big work boots have held up as we’ve stood in line, shuffling forward slowly over the last hour. Jeremy was right to get here early, but other guys still beat us to the punch. There has to be a hundred of them, all ready to sign their life away for the hope of earning triple what most jobs around here pay an hour.
A lot of the men are from surrounding towns and counties, guys who were willing to drive quite a distance to be here today. I’m glad for their presence, though, because they don’t know me, which means they’re less likely to see past my disguise. Unfortunately, there are still quite a few guys I do know, some I went to high school with. One, I used to date.
I really don’t stand a chance with Max. He works with Jeremy at the lumber mill so when he sees us waiting in line, he comes over to say hi right away. I try to keep my head down, seemingly very interested in the parking lot—Huh, is that concrete? Cool stuff—but that doesn’t help.
“Taylor?” Max asks, leaning down to peer under the brim of my hat.
I act deeply shocked to see him there. “Max?! No way. What are you doing here?”
His brows furrow in confusion.
Max was the “it” guy at my high school. Universally attractive with his boy band haircut and winning smile, no girl was immune to his charms. He also happened to be slightly more well-off than the rest of us thanks to his mom’s job as the middle school’s principal. He was the one with the cool new shoes at the start of every school year while all the rest of us were rocking hand-me-downs that had someone else’s feet imprinted on the soles. He and I only dated for a few months our sophomore year, but I’ve always had the impression that Max would change that if I gave him the chance.
His confusion gives way to intrigue. His dimples pop.
“I’m applying for a job. What are you doing here?”
Jeremy grunts loudly. Max looks toward him, and I barely notice my cousin shake his head in warning. The guys around us in line are starting to take notice. I don’t blame them. It’s been pretty boring so far, and I’d be curious about the man-child drowning in adult clothing too.
“Taylor and I are both applying,” Jeremy says simply as we all shuffle up one place in line.
A few of the guys behind us observe Max and the fact that he’s lingering. “Hey bud,” one of them says gruffly, “we’ve all been waiting here for an hour. If you want to get in line, get in the back.”
Max holds up his hands in surrender. “All