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super-flat tummy with smiles all around. “Don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m ready for a celebratory lunch.”
    “I’ll ditto that,” Dylan said.
    Chloe and I shared a conspiratorial eye roll.
    I was so feelin’ the parental warm fuzzies right then big-time, despite the whole pops-hitting-on-my-boyfriend’s-mom foul, that our little “chick” moment didn’t even oog me out. “Thanks, Dad. I mean it.”
    He raised one eyebrow and speared me with the chief of police look he’d perfected over his years on the job. “Thank me by being a conscientious teenage driver every single day, claro ? An example. That’s all the thanks I want or need. Oh, and get a summer job, will you?” He grinned.
    Ohhhhh, he meant pay him back now. I get it.
    I attempted a cheeky reciprocal grin, but it felt brittle. A brick of worry dropped to the bottom of my gut. “Sure,” I said, managing to hide my instantaneous stress spike.
    Dilemma.
    See, here’s the prob. We live in White Peaks freakin’ Colorado. It’s not like we have a mall there with a bazillion different shops. Where in the heck was I going to find a decent job at this point in the summer? Sure, school had just ended, but—hello!—small town. Guaranteed, all the good jobs had been nabbed long before now, and I’m embarrassed to admit I’d planned on just hanging out for my pre-senior-summer, staring at clouds and sniffing flowers. No such luck, eh?
    But I had a killer car. No complaints. Just worries.
    I started to rack my brain for employment possibilities. Dylan was teaching grass-skiing and off-season ski fitness at the resort, like he always did, but I knew jack about that stuff. Meryl still worked at Inner Power, the coolio metaphysical shop downtown. We all know what Caressa had planned. If you want the whole truth, I’m sort of lacking in the job skills department. But, hey, there was always Burger Wonder. I’m sure I knew a guy who knew a guy who knew a guy who could hook me up there. Snort!
    The thought of resorting to the fast food route didn’t appeal, but I’d do it if I had no other options. No sense sweating it now, though. I had a car to buy and the longish drive back to White Peaks before I could do anything about the job sitch anyway.
    After glancing lovingly back at my car—my car!!—I took Dylan’s hand and followed Dad and Chloe into the dealership. Dad had grabbed Chloe’s hand, too, I noticed, and she’d moved closer so their shoulders were sort of bumping all intimate-like. Ew. My stomach soured, and the day dimmed a bit.
    Just like that.
    I struggled to stay positive and not be…well, a self-centered bitch, like Jennifer Hellspawn Hamilton. I wanted to bask in this milestone moment for me, whether or not my dad was doing my boyfriend’s mom.
    Um, double ew. Strike that last thought, ’kay?

Chapter Four
     
    I can’t believe it. Dylan and I had our first fight. Like, not the normal fun snarkfest in which we often (okay, daily) engage, but a real fight, and it totally sucked.
    Here’s how it went down:
    After buying my car, our happy little foursome (whatev) went to lunch at the Paramount Café—a rockin’ spot on the 16th Street Mall. I admit, I was over the whole “foursome” schtick by then. I wanted to be alone with Dylan—is that so wrong? Anyway, we scored a primo table on the outdoor patio. I people-watched while noshing on burgers and huge mounds of super yummy fries and subtly ignored my dad’s attempt to draw me into conversation with Chloe. This isn’t to say I acted like a Paris Hilton–esque entitled snot after just having received the car of my dreams. I didn’t. I was polite, just not chatty. I wasn’t going to buy into the whole happy family propaganda. I needed my boundaries.
    After lunch, we rode the free Mall Shuttle up to the turnaround near Union Station, then back down to the gigantic Adam’s Mark Hotel, because really, how often do I get to come to Denver? I wanted to check out the