The Survivor - Cristin Harber Page 0,32
never visited much of the state, and never Louisville, but she envisioned shotgun houses with manicured postage stamp lawns along a parkway, blocks of Victorian mansions turned into college housing, a vibrant and diverse waterfront, and a sprawling suburbia with shopping centers and restaurants that wrapped around the city limits like a familiar hug.
“Last fall, my little bro thought he’d be captain of the football team.”
“Of course he did.” The best stories were about Dylan’s younger brother and sister, so Mandy didn’t feel like the only person on Earth referred to by a code name. Saber, his brother, was her age, and Starbright was his sister. They lived a life she could only dream about. One where no one documented life’s ups and downs. Where predictions weren’t partisan but grounded in hopes and dreams as simple as the captain of a football team.
“When he wasn’t captain, he carried the decision around like a chip on his shoulder throughout the season—which probably made him a worse player, proving that he shouldn’t have been captain to begin with, if you ask me.”
She laughed. “Bet Saber appreciated your two cents.”
“You’d think.” Dylan chuckled.
“So what happened?” Mandy asked.
“Nothing. This is a boring-ass story about people you think are normal. Nothing happened. Except,” He dropped his voice, “there was a plot twist.”
Mandy clasped her hands together. “Tell me.”
“Stay with me now,” he said. “Starbright’s best friend works at the Steak 'n Shake with the guy who was the football captain.”
She closed her eyes and pictured their life like a movie.
“Turns out,” Dylan continued, “the dude hates football.”
“What?” She didn’t see that coming. “The football captain?”
“Yup. The poor kid busts his butt because his parents bust his.”
“Friday night fever,” she whispered.
“They had it bad. Now here’s the kicker. The kid gets two scholarships for college: a football one and an academic one.”
“Wow.”
“Guess which one he plans to take?”
Mandy arched her brows. “Not the football one?”
“Not the football one,” he agreed. “Full ride, in-state tuition, so long as he picks a major within the Humanities Department.”
“Scandalous.” Happiness bubbled in her heart for the guy. It was as if she were only a few connections away from Starbright’s best friend’s co-worker.
Dylan unlatched his stall, walked out, and rapped on hers. “You ready to get out of here?”
She was. Mandy opened the door as Dylan slipped off his jacket and laid it over her shoulders. “Thanks for the story. And for the coat.” She pulled it around her. “That's a nice touch, Agent Carter.”
“Yeah, some small-town habits are hard to break.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The weekend arrived. Half-past five with less than an hour to go and Amanda was more nervous than she’d ever been. That was saying something, since her top three peak, nervous spots included an audience with Queen Elizabeth, bungee jumping off the side of a cliff, and telling the leader of the free world, also known as Dad, that she wouldn’t return to college after she’d finished recuperating from the explosion.
Amanda shook that fiery nightmare from her head and focused on tonight. In less than an hour, she’d meet Hagan and be on her first date in years. She checked her reflection in the mirror and approved. She’d added a touch of makeup, pulled her hair back into a high ponytail, and appreciated the way her white blouse contrasted against her features. Her jeans were cute, if not practical, but the more she stared at them, the more two-dimensional she felt.
Clothes were a tool to blend in. She didn’t want anyone to remember if they’d seen her. But that wasn’t a great stylistic foundation when dressing for a date. She flung her closet door wide and saw much of the same. Jeans and khakis, long skirts and dresses that did more to cover her up than make her feel beautiful.
The hangers scratched as she sorted through her options. Nothing would work—a box on a shelf above the hangers caught her attention. She pushed onto her tiptoes and pulled it down. A thin layer of dust had settled on the silver cardboard container. Amanda carried it to the bathroom vanity and lifted the lid.
Her eyes widened. The bright red linen dress remained as breathtaking as she remembered when her Mom and Dad had sent the gift on her first day in Abu Dhabi. The small note card laid on top of the dress that she’d never had the courage to remove from the box. She opened the card and reread her Mom’s handwriting above their signatories. Let the adventure