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Small Town Hearts

Small Town Hearts

by Lillie Vale
Small Town Hearts

Small Town Hearts

by Lillie Vale



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Fresh out of high school, Babe Vogel should be thrilled to have the whole summer at her fingertips. She loves living in her lighthouse home in the sleepy Maine beach town of Oar’s Rest and being a barista at the Busy Bean, but she’s totally freaking out about how her life will change when her two best friends go to college in the fall. And when a reckless kiss causes all three of them to break up, she may lose them a lot sooner. On top of that, her ex-girlfriend is back in town, bringing with her a slew of memories, both good and bad.

And then there’s Levi Keller, the cute artist who’s spending all his free time at the coffee shop where she works. Levi’s from out of town, and even though Babe knows better than to fall for a tourist who will leave when summer ends, she can’t stop herself from wanting to know him. Can Babe keep her distance, or will she break the one rule she’s always had - to never fall for a summer boy?

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Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781250192363
Publisher: Feiwel & Friends
Publication date: 03/19/2019
Sold by: Macmillan
Format: eBook
Pages: 336
File size: 1 MB
Age Range: 13 - 17 Years

About the Author

Lillie Vale, upon discovering she could not be one of Santa’s elves or attend Hogwarts, decided to become a writer to create a little magic of her own. Enjoying the romantic and eerie in equal measure, she’s probably always writing a book where the main characters kiss or kill. Born in Mumbai, she has lived in many U.S. states, and now resides in an Indiana college town where the corn whispers and no one has a clue that she is actually the long-lost caps lock queen. Small Town Hearts is her debut novel.
Lillie Vale, upon discovering she could not be one of Santa’s elves or attend Hogwarts, decided to become a writer to create a little magic of her own. Enjoying the romantic and eerie in equal measure, she’s probably always writing a book where the main characters kiss or kill. Born in Mumbai, she has lived in many U.S. states, and now resides in an Indiana college town where the corn whispers and no one has a clue that she is actually the long-lost caps lock queen. She is the author of Small Town Hearts.

Read an Excerpt


An hour before closing time, a stranger walked into the Busy Bean.

Next to me, Lucy dumped coffee grounds in the compost bin. She bent over, flicking wet grounds off her fingers. "Hey, Babe, can you —"

"I've got it," I said, grabbing my notepad from the counter, already on my way. The guy was cute. If our new seasonal waitress had been out here, she would have tried to get to him first.

The boy hovered awkwardly near one of the corner tables. He was tall and lithe, with mussed brown hair that was on the side of gold, and a blue polo that brought out his eyes.

"Is anywhere fine?"

"Yeah," I said, gesturing to the available seating. "I can take your order here if you're ready or you can just come up later, if you need a few minutes."

Mystery Boy chose a table that came from a home and garden center, chipped stones in the mosaic face of a woman on the circular surface. The chair he sat on was wrought-iron and from a different patio set, the green seat plump and gleaming with the sheen of new leather.

He glanced at the chalk menu on the wall behind the counter. A smile bloomed over his face. "Nice art."

I followed his gaze. Lucy alternated between neat capitals and loopy lettering to advertise the regular items and the day's specials. Her daisy-chain border was in neon yellow, and some of the flowers had faces.

"Yeah, my friend's a regular Matisse," I joked.

The boy laughed, a rich, velvety sound, like the decadent filling inside a chocolate truffle.

I sensed eyes on the back of my neck, and I reached to rub the tingling patch of skin. I could practically feel Lucy's interest.

I pulled a blunt-tipped pencil and notepad from my apron pocket. "What can I get for you?"

Lucy's voice in my head went through a litany of the things I could give him. I squashed that voice. None of that was on our menu.

Since Elodie and I had broken up last year — since she'd broken my heart — I had gone on a handful of dates that never led anywhere beyond awkward "See ya arounds" and fended-off kisses at the end of the night. Most of them had been nice, cute and witty. Local boys who were salt of the earth, sunny girls who collected kisses like seashells. The first few dates, the butterflies had been flapping in full force, producing gale-force winds. I'd convinced myself I was crushing. I didn't want to always be Penny and Chad's third wheel. But when my dates' faces swooped close, eyes closing in anticipation ... I couldn't go through with it.

It wasn't the act or intimacy of the kiss itself. I just had no interest in them. The other dates were middling at best, butterflies keeping quiet and still. Just nervousness, I'd figured. And then, one day, those butterflies were gone, too. It was just me left.

One corner of Mystery Boy's mouth crooked upward. I realized too late that he was looking at me with expectation. Jerked out of my reverie, I stared at him. "Sorry, I didn't catch that," I said, shooting him a sheepish smile.

"One of those days, huh?" he asked understandingly. After repeating his coffee order, he jerked his thumb over his shoulder to the glass-enclosed cake stand on the counter next to the register. "What kind of cake is that?"

"German chocolate. There's some delicious coconut-caramel frosting on it." Unable to resist, I added, "I made it myself."

He looked tempted for a second. "Just the coffee." His palm stretched across the large sketch pad he'd brought with him, the cover smudged with charcoal pencil.

I gave it a curious look, then smiled an easy grin. "Sure. You got it."

"Thanks," he said while opening the sketchbook. He poised his pencil over the blank page, already looking down.

At this angle, I could see half-moon smudges under each eye, like he hadn't been sleeping well. I didn't realize that my feet weren't moving until he glanced up, his golden eyebrows scrunched in surprise. Feeling heat creep into my cheeks, I turned and fled, retreating to the safety of the counter before I could do anything else to embarrass myself.

"Don't think I didn't notice you lingering over there with the summer boy, Babe Vogel," Lucy said. Her voice was low, but her smirk was at full volume.

"That? That was just good customer service." Cheeks still hot, I moved to the stainless-steel carafe, and in wordless unison, Lucy slid a white ceramic mug across the counter for me to fill.

"Uh-huh," she teased, fluttering her eyelashes at me. "Better get this over there. Along with some of that exemplary customer service."

I huffed, resisting the impulse to roll my eyes. "You know I've never gotten involved with a summer boy," I said, shimmying out of the way of the grimy dishcloth she swatted at me.

Despite what Lucy thought, I wasn't crushing on tall, blond, and gorgeous sitting in the corner table. Sure, he was aesthetic. And mysterious. And new to Oar's Rest, the sleepy little Maine seaside village that spilled over with tourists during the summer and turned into a ghost town the rest of the year.

Nestled on the coast, Oar's Rest attracted all kinds of people, but mostly the artistic kind. The kind of girls who tucked flowers into their hair and rode shiny new bicycles. The kind of boys who had paint and cigarette stains on their fingertips, battling for flesh. Writers who secreted themselves away from the real world and then slipped away from their rented houses and emerged in the fall with a bestseller.

Mystery Boy thanked me when I delivered his coffee, returning his attention to the sketchbook.

Lucy was waiting for me when I returned to the counter.

"Don't even say it," I warned.

"I wasn't going to say anything!" She threw up her hands. She let a beat pass. "Did you see his face? Go say something!"

I pursed my lips, eyeing him from across the room. "What? That's so weird. I'm not going to do that. He could have a girlfriend. And anyway, I hate when guys walk in and start to creep on me. It goes both ways. I'm not going to hit on him out of the blue."

"It's not that weird. Someone has to make the first move."

"Lucy," I said, lifting an eyebrow, "the cardinal rule of every beach town is that locals do not get involved with tourists. They always leave."

"I can't even remember the last time you went on a date," said Lucy. "And those girls and guys were cute."

I picked up a mug that didn't even need cleaning and began to rewash it just to have something to do. When I was nervous, I had the telltale habit of wringing the bottom of my shirt, and the last thing I wanted was for Lucy to know she'd hit a nerve.

She was right. I hadn't been serious about anyone in a few years because I'd been dating Elodie Hawkins on the sly. El had graduated a year ahead of me and gone off to art school in California. Going out of state wasn't enough — she seemed to want to get as far from Maine as she could without crossing an ocean.

A memory blurred into my mind's autofocus, sharpening until I could count the freckles spattered across El's nose and cheeks, her hair thrashing in the wind, the wisps of the cotton candy body spray she loved. If I closed my eyes, I could almost smell it. I could almost see the gray of the sky, the birds circling overhead. The sorrow in her eyes as she said she wasn't ready to tell people about us — about her.

"Excuse me."

I turned, facing Mystery Boy. "Hey, what else can I get for you?" I flicked my eyes toward the German chocolate cake.

His eyes followed mine and his grin widened. "Just wanted to settle my bill." He flopped down a five-dollar bill on the counter.

Counting out his change, I placed it into his open palm, intensely aware of my fingertips grazing his warm hand.

"Thanks." He turned to leave, then paused, seeming to wrestle with a decision. "I'll take you up on that cake some other time." With a final nod to me and Lucy, he headed for the door.

When he left, I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. "Did that sound like he was planning on coming back, or like that's the last time we'll ever see him?" I wondered aloud. Though I'd been working at the Busy Bean for almost three years, this was the first time I'd hoped a tourist would be a repeat customer.

My curiosity wasn't lost on Lucy. "So you are interested in a summer boy." Lucy's voice held a grin. "And he's cute. Hint, hint."

"Maybe he's here for classes at the art center." I stared through the window at his retreating back, wondering where he was heading. "He had a sketchbook with him."

She shrugged. "Wouldn't surprise me. I think they're starting their summer program this week." She paused. "I heard Elodie Hawkins is coming back to be a mentor. Weren't you two friends?"

What? The wind was taken right out of my sails. El was coming back? She hadn't said anything. She could have texted, she could have emailed ...

Elodie had left town, left me. I shouldn't care if she was coming back. I'd gotten over her. But there were some things I couldn't tuck away as easily. She was like a second beating heart inside me — tingling, magnifying, terrifying. This heart was carnivorous. It hoped and hurt at the same time. Hearing her name again filled me with a savage rush of life, something I couldn't hold back any more than I could keep the memory of us at bay.

Being the one left behind never got easier. After Mom, maybe I should have wised up. Nothing stayed the same forever, but when I remembered the soft, dazed look El wore right after I kissed her, Ihad thought that this could. We could. In possibly the biggest plot twist of my life, though, I'd discovered we couldn't. And just like that, everything I'd cherished for so long became a bitter enemy. Elodie left town, but the ghost of her was still here, haunting.

As I opened my mouth to ask Lucy where she'd heard about Elodie's return, I was interrupted by the storeroom door creaking open. Ariel, our new waitress, had volunteered to unpack some of our new inventory at the start of her shift, but instead of the sounds of moving coffee cans and creaking aluminum shelves, there had been silence all afternoon. I'd forgotten she was even there. It hadn't taken Lucy and me long to figure out that organizing the inventory was code for texting her friends in the privacy of the storeroom.

Ariel breezed out, already pulling her apron off her head. Her brown hair lifted with static. "So I've just about wrapped up in there —"

I blinked at the pile of boxes behind her before the door swung shut. "Really? It doesn't look like you've made any headway."

"— so I think I'm going to take off." She reached for the tip jar with an apologetic smile. "Mind if I bum a few bucks?"

Lucy made a strangled noise.

"No way," I said. "We divide the tips up at the end of the week. And there's still twenty minutes before we close."

Ariel's face turned red. "Right. Sorry." She withdrew her hand, cradling it against her chest. Her expression turned wounded. "It's just ... something came up and I'd really appreciate it if —"

I wasn't in the mood to listen to one of her half-baked excuses. "Yeah, whatever." I frowned. "Go."

As she left, Lucy and I exchanged matching looks. Lucy sighed noisily. "How has she not been fired yet? She's the worst."

I took a peek into the storeroom. Nothing had been done, except some creative shuffling that might have fooled a manager who didn't know Ariel and her distinct lack of work ethic. With a sigh, I let the storeroom door close. "I'll talk to Tom when he comes in tomorrow."

"Good," Lucy said with vehemence. "I don't care if I have to work overtime. I'd rather make the extra cash than pull her weight for free."

She was absolutely right. I nodded in agreement.

We worked in silence to clear everything away before closing up. "See you tomorrow," I said as I locked Busy's door.

"See ya!" Lucy called over her shoulder as she jogged toward her boyfriend, waiting on the beach for her with his dogs. He took off his cap and waved it at me.

As the warm sunlight outside enveloped me, I almost — almost — forgot the cold dread that had gone through me when I heard of Elodie's return. My eyes sought out my lighthouse, small and distant above me. The place where we'd met most often, the one place in town no one would see us. And so, of course, it was the place where El felt the most comfortable. It was the only place she could be herself. The only place we could be a we.

What would I say to her if she really was coming back? Would she even want to see me? Did I even want to see her?

A boat coming back to shore blew its horn, a sharp, trumpeting sound that rattled me out of my thoughts. I felt like a girl overboard.

But it turned out there was no mayday call for returning ex-girlfriends.

* * *

It was at the most beautiful moment of firefly twilight, when the sun had dipped just beyond the water, that I reached my best friend Penny Wang's houseboat. It was far enough from the beach that we were away from everyone's prying eyes, so Penny probably didn't think twice before waving me onto the deck with a bottle of beer in one hand and her phone in the other.

"Hey," I said, flip-flops thwacking against the pier.

"You took your sweet time getting here," she said in response, tipping the bottle to her lips. She sat cross-legged on the deck, phone balanced on one thigh. "I was just about to text you."

I joined her, sinking down and letting my back rest against the wall. "Everyone we know is out on the beach. Hard not to stop when everyone wanted to talk. Isn't it weird how all the people we didn't talk to in high school are suddenly acting like they're going to miss us?"

Penny snorted. "Graduation messed with their brains." She twirled her finger in circles next to her ear. "They're living in some parallel universe where we give a shit."

"Maybe in some universe we do," I said, laughing.

She typed something furiously on her phone before turning it facedown on her thigh. "All the me's in all the universes hate them unequivocally."

I didn't even have to think about it. "Then all the me's do, too."

"That's why you're my best friend," she said, bumping her arm against mine.

We stared out across the water, letting the silence last. I hoped she felt just as warm and squishy inside as I did. "So you won't believe this," I said.


"Elodie's coming back home." I let the bombshell drop, satisfied to see the surprise on Penny's face.

She leaned closer toward me, clutching the neck of the bottle tight. "Really? She told you that?"

"Hell no. You know she didn't want to keep in touch." She'd snipped me out of her life so easily. Even a year later, the bitterness and hurt rankled.

Penny's lips twisted into a scowl. "Ugh. Are you going to try talking with her again?"

I shook my head. "That ship has sailed."

"Good," she said. "I'd have kicked your ass if you got back with her after what she put you through."

"That's why you're my best friend."

"I mean, it was fine if she just wanted to break up," said Penny. "But she didn't have to be such a bitch about it. Cutting you out of her life like that was super shitty. She didn't have the balls to date you while she was here, but she managed to break your heart with no problem." She made an aggravated sound of disgust.

"I'm over it," I said. "But thanks for the ex bashing."

Penny smirked. "Any time." She held the beer out with her right hand. "To summer. And graduation. And to never talking to any of those fuckwads again."

I grinned and took a sip before handing it back to her. "And lying out on the beach and eating tacos and ice cream every day."

This was what I loved about summer, the free pass to be totally lazy and do things only if we wanted to do them. And nobody could say boo about it. It was like the rest of the year was an impostor somehow, and summer was the only time that everything moved back into place.

"God, yes. The tacos. Now I'm craving some bulgogi," said Penny. "I want pickled cucumbers so bad. And sriracha mayo."

The Korean steak tacos were her favorite, while I preferred the fish. Jeju BBQ was the only place in town that served street-style Asian tacos, and everything on their menu was pure rapture.

"Let's go get some." I bumped her shoulder. "Tacos are always a good idea."

"I wish. We have something to do first, though."

"If it's more important than tacos, it must be serious."

"Not kidding, B." She paused. "Hey, so this is kind of awkward, but I was wondering if you could you do me a favor?"

I scrunched my forehead. Penny didn't often ask for favors, at least not so obviously. So whatever this was, it had to be A Big Deal. "Sure. What's up?"

"Would you go talk to Chad for me and, um, tell him I don't want to see him?"


Excerpted from "Small Town Hearts"
by .
Copyright © 2019 Lillie Vale.
Excerpted by permission of Feiwel and Friends.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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