Night Owl

Chapter 2

Lexie Catalano

Leaving Mick’s hairy ass was the best decision I made in the last five years.

Leaving my job as a teller at Bank West was the second best decision.

The guy and the job didn't respect me—and they didn't deserve me.

No matter how I asked or what I threatened, Mick refused to quit smoking and drinking. He had an infuriating habit of groping me in public and lately the sex was, well, not sex. More like a six-thrust oops!

When I looked at Mick, I had to force myself to remember that I used to love him. I used to find his nerd humor funny. I used to be attracted to his jawless pointy-chinned face and scruffy receding hairline.

Sort of.

As for the bank, I stayed on as a teller for three years while my favorite boss got canned, my friends gradually left, and I was passed over time and time again for promotions.

Good riddance to them both.

And hello to three days on the road going fifty-five with a U-Haul hooked to my Civic, spacing out and thinking about Justin.

"Hellooo?" My sister waved her iPod in my face.

"Huh? What?"

"For the... third time." She turned down my Lana Del Rey playlist. "Can I puh-lease change the music?"

"Oh, yeah. Whatever."

I stared ahead at the highway.

I felt Abby watching me as she plugged in her iPod.

"Sooo." She plopped her feet on the dash and hip-hop blared from the speakers.

"So what?" I glanced at her. As always, I was struck by my sister's beauty. She's nineteen and has a dancer's fit body. Much to our parents' chagrin, Abby was saving for an apartment and putting herself through dance classes by working at a strip club. She claimed to love it, but I wasn't so sure.

"So, who's the new guy?" She arched a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

Our father calls us both heartbreakers, but Abby and I are practically opposites. My style is natural. I let my hair grow long, prefer glasses to contacts, wear very little makeup, and work out only enough to define my soft curves.

My sister is punk. She has tats, half a dozen piercings, lives in eyeliner, and dyes her pixie haircut the weirdest colors ever discovered.

And when it comes to me, she has always been uncannily perceptive.

"New guy? There is no new guy," I said. "Can you turn this shit down? Or at least find a song that doesn't make my ears bleed?"

"Girl, you better get used to it." Abby grooved in her seat, lifting her arms. Bracelets clanked down her wrists. "It's what we'll be listening to when I teach you how to twerk."

"Excuse me?"

"I've seen you dance, Lex. You need a little help. And then you can show your new guy, it'll drive him nuts. Is he in Colorado?"

Yes. Yes he is.

"What? No! I mean, no there is no guy. You're ridiculous."

"H'okay," Abby laughed. "All I know is, you would never have ditched your job and boyfriend without some motivation. Sorry Lex, your balls just aren't that big."

I swallowed and focused on the yellow lines rolling ahead of me in the night. I wanted so badly to talk about Justin. I thought about him nonstop while we packed and drove.