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<\/a><\/p>\nFor college drop-out Lauren Scott, Kalamazoo, Michigan, is the perfect place to lay low and avoid her politically mobile East coast family. Though working two jobs and counting every last penny is a thousand times harder than accepting checks from home, she can\u2019t fulfill her parents\u2019 conservative expectations without sacrificing her conscience.<\/p>\n
For struggling singer-songwriter and full-time nurse assistant Daniel Ebbing, Kalamazoo is the place he wants to escape. Ever since the death of his mother, Daniel has regretted not returning to England with his father. Moving across an ocean costs far more than he anticipated, and his bank account is caught in a one step forward, two steps back dance.<\/p>\n
Now, fate has made them the solution to each other\u2019s problems. She needs a roommate. He needs a cheap place to live.<\/p>\n
What could go wrong?<\/p>\n
Amazon<\/a><\/span>\u00a0\u2022 Smashwords<\/a>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n So, quick rundown of this book:<\/p>\n Now, please enjoy this free look at the first chapter of\u00a0Where We Land<\/em>.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n The chimes above the door at Sugar Magnolia, the only store in Kalamazoo that could meet the needs of both stoners and disc golf enthusiasts alike\u2014although there was a staggering<\/em> overlap of those two demographics\u2014heralded the arrival of customers who annoyed Lauren Scott on sight. Though working at a headshop was as chill a job as she could have ever hoped for, the proximity of the store to Western Michigan University\u2019s campus led to Friday night influxes of feral white bros like the ones who strolled through the door.<\/p>\n \u201cHey, guys!\u201d she called with her best customer service voice. \u201cHow\u2019re you all doing tonight?\u201d<\/p>\n They were doing high already, judging from the cloud of stench that clung to their hoodies, polo shirts, and cargo shorts. Lauren could appreciate a nice, lingering pot scent, but Axe body spray was not<\/em> a successful cover for cheap ditch weed hot-boxed in somebody\u2019s car. They ignored her greeting and headed over to the racks of Frisbees, pausing to laugh uproariously at a blown glass pipe shaped like Pickle Rick.<\/p>\n Letting her I\u2019d-be-happy-to-help smile drop, she hid behind the display of incense on the counter. She pulled a stick of strawberry from one of the jars and lit it up, hoping to cover the Eau du<\/em> Bro<\/em>. The strip mall Sugar Magnolia resided in stood directly across the street from the campus\u2019s west exit and within spitting distance of a number of fraternity and sorority houses. Despite the recent legalization law, selling marijuana was still prohibited, and cops stopped in plenty to make sure the store only dealt in smoking accessories. A \u201ctobacco shop\u201d couldn\u2019t afford to reek of pot.<\/p>\n She checked the time on her phone and tipped her head back, closing her eyes in frustration. She still had two hours to go. God, I hope Jason gets back from break before the Abercrombie & Dick crew starts asking to see every damn item in the case.<\/em><\/p>\n The plastic shower curtain that served as the back room\u2019s door pushed open, rattling on its rings. Jason stepped out and, at the sight of the customers, ducked behind the incense display with her. He peered through a plexiglass case of Zippos, studying the customers intently. He glanced to Lauren, put his thumb on his chin, and flexed his index finger twice in the ASL sign for \u201cWho?\u201d<\/p>\n She held her hand below the counter and fingerspelled \u201cB-R-O-S.\u201d<\/p>\n Becoming friends with Jason in ASL 101 had been one of the top five smartest things she\u2019d done in college. It was possibly the only useful thing she\u2019d done before dropping out.<\/p>\n Jason rolled his eyes and grabbed a fitted baseball cap from beneath the counter. He slid it on backward, unlatched his hemp necklace, and stood up, outfitted for battle.<\/p>\n \u201cHey, what\u2019s good, y\u2019all?\u201d he called to the group of decidedly caucasian dudes whose response when faced with the possibility of talking to a cool black guy was nothing short of ecstatic. Lauren shook her head fondly. Jason was like a chameleon, able to shift from mode to mode depending on the customer. Acting was a way of life, he was fond of telling her. Customer service gave him a chance to hone his craft outside of his classes and rehearsals. She\u2019d once watched him assist sales with a stoner Frolf enthusiast, an old-school metalhead, and a bachelorette party at the same time, somehow finding a persona that could relate to all three at once. The chimes jingled again. Lauren glanced up.<\/p>\n The guy who lowered his head as he walked through the door really didn\u2019t need to. He was kind of short. His shaggy ginger hair was tousled like it had been recently rubbed vigorously with a towel. A red plaid shirt open over a faded Frankenstein tee and jeans ripped at the knee marked him out as a likely time traveler from the 1990s, but he seemed more shy than suspicious, so she didn\u2019t worry too much about him causing trouble or shoplifting. Which was good. The door had barely closed when it flew open again, and her roommate, Chelsea, whipped in like a hurricane. And Hurricane Chelsea required a lot more attention than some nerd who didn\u2019t look like he exactly craved interaction with salespeople.<\/p>\n Damnit. I\u2019m probably going to have to bust a hobbit for shoplifting.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cHey, bitch!\u201d Chelsea drew out the word in a long, nasal delivery that made Lauren\u2019s skin crawl with unease. The higher Chelsea\u2019s voice pitched, the more likely she was to be angling for something. \u201cI need like, the tiniest little favor.\u201d<\/p>\n Of course, you do.<\/em> \u201cWhat favor? I\u2019ll decide how tiny it is.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSo, I have a date with that guy from Insta,\u201d Chelsea began, reaching into her purse for her phone. Her fingers flew dramatically over the screen before she turned it so Lauren could see. The Aaron Paul doppelganger had been all Chelsea had been able to talk about for a week that had felt like a lifetime. \u201cBut it\u2019s like…tonight?\u201d<\/p>\n Lauren\u2019s stomach sank. \u201cNo. Nope, no, nope. Not tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPlease?\u201d Chelsea wheedled, her hands clasped dramatically together, pressing the phone tight against her chest like a love letter in an Elizabeth Gaskell novel. \u201cI know you need the shift. I heard you ask Paul for extra hours.\u201d<\/p>\n Damnit<\/em>. Chelsea had her there. With the recent hike in rent\u2014and Chelsea\u2019s \u201cforgetfulness\u201d about the last two electric bills\u2014Lauren really did need a bigger paycheck that week. But she\u2019d been working both of her jobs eight days in a row already, and Friday nights at Boogie\u2019s were the worst.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cCome on. It had to be tonight?\u201d she asked impatiently. \u201cDouchebag with a guitar night?\u201d<\/p>\n The Weasley standing by the \u201cstaff picks\u201d bong display made a weird cross between a snort and chuckle. He glanced up guiltily, flushed at being caught eavesdropping, then averted his eyes again.<\/p>\n \u201cUgh, fine,\u201d Lauren groaned. \u201cI\u2019m upping our \u2018Wonderwall\u2019 bet, though.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s not fair!\u201d Chelsea whined.<\/p>\n Lauren shrugged and held her hands up. \u201cIt\u2019s not fair that I\u2019ve had to cover the electricity for the past two months either.\u201d<\/p>\n Chelsea blew out a long breath of frustration. \u201cFifteen.\u201d<\/p>\n Lauren narrowed her eyes. \u201cTwenty. The last guy did an uncomfortably passionate rendition of \u2018All Star\u2019 by Smash Mouth. I\u2019m not budging.\u201d<\/p>\n Chelsea stamped her black leather ankle boot on the cracked tile. \u201cOh my God, fine!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou call Paul and tell him we\u2019re switching. I\u2019m not off the clock here for another couple of hours. Text me what he says.\u201d There. My Friday night signed away. <\/em>Not that she would have been doing anything with it, anyway.<\/p>\n Chelsea shook her phone in the air in victory. \u201cYes! Thank you! You\u2019re the literal, literal best.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYup.\u201d Lauren lifted her hand with a pained smile and watched Chelsea leave, the chimes above the door singing again.<\/p>\n The ginger approached the counter, clearing his throat. Lauren was used to nervous customers. They usually didn\u2019t have an I.D. because they weren\u2019t eighteen. This guy was definitely over eighteen. Maybe he was just garden variety shy.<\/p>\n \u201cDid you want me to open the case?\u201d she asked, nodding toward the display he\u2019d been studying.<\/p>\n He looked over his shoulder, then said, \u201cOh, no. Um, just a pack of Zig-Zags? One hundred millimeters.\u201d<\/p>\n So, he\u2019d been waiting the entire time Chelsea had been there. A-plus customer service there, Lauren.<\/em> \u201cSorry about your wait.\u201d<\/p>\n He reached for his wallet. \u201cNo, it\u2019s not a problem at all. I just didn\u2019t want to interrupt.\u201d<\/p>\n Lauren\u2019s brain paused a second. People came to Kalamazoo from all over; three colleges and two major pharmaceutical companies made for an interesting mix. But an English accent wasn\u2019t one she heard a lot. It made the guy seem even more like a Weasley than before, and she smiled to herself as she turned to get the papers off the shelf. A Harry Potter joke would probably not be appreciated.<\/p>\n \u201cOkay, that\u2019ll be a dollar-twenty-five,\u201d she said, punching it into the iPad that served as their cash register.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat kind of incense is that?\u201d he asked, pulling two crumpled dollar bills from his wallet.<\/p>\n \u201cStrawberry.\u201d Lauren took the cashbox from under the counter and unlocked it. \u201cDo you hate it?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, I like it.\u201d He opened his wallet again. \u201cHow much?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, it\u2019s twenty-five cents apiece or ten for two dollars,\u201d she said, counting out his quarters. \u201cBut since you had to wait through my roommate\u2019s drama, and<\/em> since you\u2019re the only person I\u2019ve ever met who actually liked the strawberry one, I think you should take five on the house.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah, all right.\u201d He put his hand out and Lauren dropped his change into his palm. He pocketed it and stepped aside, taking one of the long plastic bags in front of the incense display. While he opened it, he asked, \u201cMay I ask what the \u2018Wonderwall\u2019 bet is?\u201d<\/p>\n She couldn\u2019t see the harm in explaining it while he bagged up the sticks of incense. \u201cShe and I both work at Boogie\u2019s, on Academy. They have live music on the weekends, and it\u2019s pretty much always some douchebag with an acoustic guitar, and they almost always sing \u2018Wonderwall\u2019 by Oasis. Chelsea thinks I\u2019m exaggerating how often it happens, so we made a bet, and now every time one of these dorks plays \u2018Wonderwall\u2019, I get ten dollars of her tips from her next shift. And if they don\u2019t play it, she gets ten dollars of my tips.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut tonight, it\u2019ll be twenty. If the douchebag with the guitar plays it,\u201d he clarified.<\/p>\n \u201cRight. Because she\u2019s a pain in my ass.\u201d She pushed the rolling papers across the counter. \u201cDon\u2019t forget these.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThanks.\u201d He held them up and gave them a little shake as he backed toward the door. \u201cAnd thanks for the, uh, the strawberry.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHave a good night,\u201d she called after him. Her phone notification dinged at the same time the door chimes went off. As expected, Paul had immediately approved the switch. He was probably stoked about it; Lauren was faster than most of his baristas. So, she\u2019d go off to her second job on aching feet. What was new?<\/p>\n It wasn\u2019t as though she spent time with her friends anymore. Not since she\u2019d gone from college student to de facto townie. It was amazing how hard it was to synch schedules while employed at two full-time jobs, and she never had the money to go out, anyway. The only constants in her life were Chelsea and Jason, and it helped that she worked with both of them and lived with one. If she had to monetize her social life, she would. Her parents had stopped sending her anything a while ago.<\/p>\n \u201cWhen you get your priorities turned around…when you want to be an asset to this family, then we\u2019ll help you. But we won\u2019t help you squander your potential.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n Ugh. Thanks, Dad.<\/em><\/p>\n It had never been about her potential. Her father just didn\u2019t want his daughter\u2019s opposing political views messing with his senate campaign.<\/p>\n Jason led the bros to the register. Lauren stepped into the back room and leaned against the wall. It would be so easy to just walk away from her life. Go back to college and money from home. Get her degree. Or just stand beside her father at some rallies, swallow her shame, and accept the checks.<\/p>\n She wasn\u2019t cut out for it. She wasn\u2019t really cut out for anything.<\/p>\n When she heard the chimes over the door herald the departure of their worst nightmare, she emerged again. Jason already had the baseball cap off. He ruffled his short, spiky dreads. \u201cOh my god. Girl, I never thought they were going to leave. I really didn\u2019t. I thought they were going to ask me where to buy drugs.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAt least they didn\u2019t try to sell<\/em> you drugs. Remember that time?\u201d Lauren reminded him.<\/p>\n \u201cDo I sound like I do drugs?\u201d Jason demanded. \u201cI have the voice of an angel. I can\u2019t smoke anything. Especially tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n The comment shot a thought through her head like a bullet through the fuselage of a plane. \u201cOh no\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cUh-uh.\u201d Jason shook his head. \u201cYou did not just switch shifts with Chelsea on the night of my recital. Again.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOkay, but to be fair, I only did that one time before and<\/em> her grandmother had just died, and <\/em>you have a recital like once a month.\u201d Jason wasn\u2019t just a musical theater major. He took every extracurricular opportunity to sing in front of a crowd that he could possibly get, from jazz choir to glee club to community theater. But he also stuck by her when she\u2019d dropped out, so supporting his passion wasn\u2019t exactly a hardship.<\/p>\n Until it came to scheduling her support.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat was her excuse this time?\u201d he asked, drumming his fingers on the counter.<\/p>\n \u201cDate,\u201d Lauren said, unable to meet his eyes. \u201cI know. I know she takes advantage. But besides you, she\u2019s all I got. And last time I checked, Antoine didn\u2019t want me moving in with you guys.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t want you moving in, either.\u201d Jason examined his fingernails. \u201cI\u2019ve seen your bathroom. It\u2019s a mess. I don\u2019t know how you live like that.\u201d<\/p>\n Lauren walked around the counter and went to the rack of novelty ashtrays to straighten them. Not that they needed straightening. She just had to do something with her hands. \u201cThe bathroom is mostly Chelsea. And I live like that because I don\u2019t have a choice.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo. You have a choice. You\u2019re probably the only person I know who chooses to be poor on purpose. Don\u2019t pretend you\u2019re on the same level as people who aren\u2019t a phone call away from hope,\u201d Jason scolded her.<\/p>\n He was right. In a way. She did scrabble for rent, eat rice and beans, and ride her bike even when the snow was so deep, she had to walk it most of the way on purpose<\/em>. But it hadn\u2019t been a choice. Not really.<\/p>\n She\u2019d traded her parent\u2019s money for the ability to sleep at night.<\/p>\n * * * *<\/p>\n Boogie\u2019s Cafe was a wedge-shaped building on a wedge-shaped corner at the intersection of Academy and W. Michigan Ave. Lauren rode a winding route through campus to avoid the long stretch of Stadium drive that was too isolated to be safe. She\u2019d never thought about that kind of thing when she\u2019d had a car. People rarely got knocked out of their cars and dragged into bushes.<\/p>\n The ancient-looking single-pane windows of the old brick building were already fogged up from the inside. The lights were lower than usual on the main level so all the students that treated the place like a study hall would be in the loft. Acoustic guitar amplified via mic floated out the door as a woman exited. Lauren chained her bike to the no parking sign at the curb and pocketed the key to head inside.<\/p>\n Her second foot had barely crossed the threshold when she jolted to a halt.<\/p>\n Seated on a stool in the center of what was usually the reading area, the Weasley from earlier in the day strummed his guitar. His eyes were closed as he sang into the microphone, some song Lauren didn\u2019t recognize. It must have been an original, and she\u2019d caught the very end of it. As the last note faded away, the audience that had assembled at the tables and chairs around him applauded far more enthusiastically than Lauren was used to hearing for their usual Friday night musical acts.<\/p>\n \u201cThank you,\u201d the guy said, leaning over to grab a bottle of water from the floor.<\/p>\n Lauren tried to tiptoe along the back wall unobtrusively, hoping he wouldn\u2019t notice her. Hoping he\u2019d forgotten how huge a bitch she was. God, she hoped he wasn\u2019t the kind of person who was going to gloat or make a big deal out of something as small and insignificant as being insulted directly to his face. She chanced a look at him. He locked eyes with her as he twisted the cap back onto the bottle. Adjusting his guitar on his knee and his fingers on the strings, he cleared his throat and said, \u201cAnyway, here\u2019s \u2018Wonderwall\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Well, yesterday was a weird day. I’ll tell you that for free. But do you know what today is? Do you know? That’s right. It’s<\/p>\n\n