It wasn't my best and brightest moment, but I was glad it was over.

I walked upstairs to the spare bedroom the bedroom that had been mine for the first twenty-two years of my life and found it completely empty. That was fine with me. I liked a fresh, clean start. I had ordered a bedroom set online over the weekend that would be delivered this afternoon sometime between noon and four.

I peeked through the blinds at the pool in the backyard. It looked so welcoming. Too bad I didn't think to pack a swimsuit in my carry-on. I remembered the Good Life List then and pulled it out of my handbag to review my quests. Skinny-dipping in your own pool was not on the list but nude sunbathing was. Maybe I should go ahead and work on my tan and the GLL. I looked at my Blackberry to check the time. It was 11:10. I had fifty minutes before the earliest my furniture would arrive. Those people never showed up in the beginning of the time slot anyway.

I stripped, wrapped myself up in a towel I found in the linen closet and headed downstairs quickly. I knew I needed to hurry before I lost my nerve. There was a privacy fence in the backyard so the only way anyone could see me would be if a neighbor was looking out of an upstairs window, and I figured that was probably unlikely. The kids were at school this time of day and the adults were at work.

I sunbathed in the nude! I did fifteen minutes on my back and fifteen minutes on my belly. I had carried my sundress down with me in case of emergency and kept it within arm's reach at all times, but I never even reached for it. I felt really proud of myself. Proud and hot! It felt like it was at least ninety degrees out (Yes, it does get hot in Michigan.).

I checked the time on my phone again. I figured I still had time for a quick swim to cool off. Since the pool was only two steps from my chair I stood up and jumped in. And, in case you were wondering, it felt great! I'd been here less than two hours and already crossed off one quest on the GLL. This was going to be the best summer ever!

I laid back and floated in the pool with my hands behind my head, smugly. Roxie Golightly, living the good life.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

"h.e.l.lo? Anybody home?"

I was startled by the sound of a man's voice coming from the front of the house. I jumped up and covered my chest with my hands. Before I could decide on my next move I heard a knock on the back gate.

"Roxie?" the man called out. "Are you back here?"

In my head it seemed to happen in slow motion. First, I looked toward my chair and saw that neither my towel nor my sundress were within my reach. Then I looked at both of the pool's exits: one, an attached metal ladder in the deep end and two, the cemented steps in the shallow end. I knew there was no way to get out of the pool via either of those exits without showing something.

A man's head peeked over the top of the fence and I crouched low in the water.

"Roxie? Is that you?"

s.h.i.t! He saw me. What the h.e.l.l do I do now?

"Roxie? It's Phil. Phil Barnaby. From high school."

Phil? The name wasn't ringing a bell, but how unbelievable was it that my ears were still popping from my flight, and I'd already run into someone I went to high school with? And I was naked! Ann Arbor is not a small city! Can the universe please give me a break here?

"We have your furniture. Is it okay if we go on in?"

"Yes!" I shouted. "Please put it all in the empty bedroom upstairs."

"Gotcha."

His head disappeared from the fence. I knew I shouldn't let a bunch of delivery guys in the house unsupervised, but I was willing to take the risk. Then I remembered that Jake left his camera on the kitchen island, and it probably had his memory card in it. I couldn't very well let his camera and photos get stolen on my first day in the house. d.a.m.nit!

I had no choice but to get out of the pool and get to my towel as quickly as possible. I hoped and prayed that no one was looking out any windows during those few moments. And I prayed even harder that if anyone was looking out a window, they weren't recording it! Just my luck my b.o.o.bs would be viral within the hour.

I made it into the house, braless but covered, made sure the camera was safe, signed for my furniture, thanked Phil who I still didn't recognize and wondered if every quest on the GLL was going to turn into such an adventure. To be honest, I kind of hoped so.

I could definitely get used to this new life!

After spending the afternoon (seriously, a whole four hours!) putting my bedroom set together and proving to myself that I could make it on my own, I had a great time over at Allison's. Adam had a rare few hours to spare and came over for a little bit, too. We grilled kabobs, drank some beer, had a bonfire, made s'mores for the kids and chased fireflies around the yard. You just can't do stuff like that in Manhattan.

I wasn't sure what to expect out of Jake when he got home from work that night. He used to be a real party animal back in the day, like a lot of people who work in that industry. I was half expecting him to bring a s.l.u.tty c.o.c.ktail waitress home after last call and bend her over the kitchen island. I definitely would have been annoyed by that. And not because I was still harboring feelings for him. I'd be annoyed if any roommate of mine was partying in the middle of the night or having s.e.x in communal areas where we eat. Believe me, if I was a cast member on MTV's The Real World, I would be having conniption fits in the confessional on a daily basis.

Either his chick was a very quiet lay, or he came home alone because I didn't hear a thing. I slept very well on my comfy new pillow-top bed. I would have slept a lot longer, but I was awoken by the sound of someone banging on the front door just after nine.

I jumped up in bed thinking it was probably someone delivering a package for me. I had done some internet shopping over the weekend and bought new summer clothes and interview clothes to cheer myself up. I knew I had a serious credit card debt problem and should take a break from shopping for a while, but I thought I deserved just one divorce shopping spree. Besides, I shopped at H&M for practically pennies.

I knew Adam was already elbow-deep in surgery by that time, but I didn't want Jake disturbed after working so late. I knew he wasn't much of a morning person.

I got out of bed, threw my robe on over my cami and sleep shorts, and headed down the hallway toward the stairs. I stopped when I heard a woman's voice.

"I don't know who she was, but I would really appreciate it if you boys did not leave your girls here unsupervised. I have a thirteen-year-old and an eleven-year-old, and they do not need to look out their window and see naked women in your pool!"

I gasped, put a hand over my mouth and hid behind the wall upstairs to eavesdrop.

"I'm really sorry about that, Mrs. Kemp." It was Jake's voice!

OH. MY. G.o.d. Is this is a joke? Maybe Hope called and told Jake about the Good Life List and he set this all up as a prank? I could only hope.

"You know," the woman continued, "she's lucky my boys were still in school. They probably would have recorded it on their phones and showed it to all their friends. But you let her know they'll be out of school in a week, and I would really appreciate it if she would wear a swimsuit from now on."

"I'll make sure it doesn't happen again."

I heard him close the door and head up the stairs. I pressed my back up against the wall in the hallway as hard as I could, like I thought I could actually disappear into it. I see people doing that in movies all the time. And I'm always thinking, What a dumba.s.s. Do you really think people can't see you if you lean against a wall? But there I was doing the same thing.

It turns out people can see you. Jake definitely saw me. He stopped, looked at me for about two seconds, gave me a dirty look and then went into his bedroom and slammed the door. If ever there was an appropriate time for me to do the slide-down-the-wall-and-put-my-head-in-my-hands move, it was now. But that move was a bit overplayed. Instead, I got back in bed and vowed never to leave my room again.

A half an hour later I was about to die of boredom. There was nothing to do in my room. No computer, no TV, no books. A person can only stare at the walls for so long. Jake was sleeping so there was no reason for me to hide out all day. I was trying to put my humiliation out of my mind and gather the courage to leave the room when I heard the sound of a truck's brakes outside. Could it be a UPS or mail truck? Could it be my new clothes? I had paid extra for express shipping, so it was possible.

I left the room, ran downstairs and intercepted my package from the mail carrier before she even had a chance to knock. Then I took the box upstairs to try on my new clothes. I was used to more expensive fabrics but for the price I paid, I couldn't complain. Even the bikini I bought looked pretty good. It was one size bigger than the infamous polka dot one I wore last week and the extra room made a big difference. The fact that I had hardly eaten anything in almost a week was helping the situation, too. No more m.u.f.fin top! I guess that's what they call the Divorce Diet.

It was just a plain turquoise bikini with an underwire top. They didn't have a huge selection, but for $20 I didn't care. At least I wouldn't have to horrify the neighbors with nudity anymore.

Then I got an idea. One of my challenges on the GLL was to wash a car while wearing a bikini. I had a bikini now! And Jake had a car! Or a Jeep. Whatever. Same thing. Maybe if he woke up to a shiny clean Jeep he'd forgive me for the rude awakening this morning.

Look, I am not Paris Hilton or the 2005 version of Jessica Simpson. I'm not even the sweet and innocent girl-next-door who is hot without knowing it. Trust me. I'm all right but I'm not music video or hamburger commercial-worthy. The car wash was pretty much just that a car wash. I didn't put my pink sparkly lips to the hose water to give my pretty little tongue a drink. I didn't squeeze the sponge over my chest to make soapy water drip down my cleavage. I didn't rub my b.u.t.t up against the car to scrub it with my bikini bottom. I didn't have stilettos on. And Def Leopard's "Pour Some Sugar on Me" wasn't playing anywhere (except maybe in my head). But I was still embarra.s.sed when I noticed Jake standing at the back door watching me. Creeper!

He opened the door and stepped out when he realized he'd been busted. He crossed his arms and leaned against the brick house. I set the sponge on the hood and crossed my arms, too, which just so happened to make my b.o.o.bs look freaking amazing, if I do say so myself.

"You spy on people often?" I asked.

"Sounds like I missed a good opportunity yesterday, huh?"

I scowled and tried to act like I wasn't embarra.s.sed about both incidents. "Yeah, well, my suit didn't arrive until this morning."

He nodded. "I see. And what's this little show about?"

"It's not a show," I said defensively. "I felt bad about this morning. I thought it would be a nice gesture is all."

"Not that I don't appreciate the gesture," he paused and tilted his head in my direction, "or the uniform. I just didn't know you were such an exhibitionist."

I almost laughed at the absurdity. "I'm hardly exhibiting anything. Just working on my tan and washing a car. No. Big. Deal."

I didn't want to tell him about the GLL. He'd probably think it was dumb. Plus, I didn't want him to know I'd gotten so boring since my wedding day that I now needed to follow a list just to have a semblance of a personality. Maybe I wanted him to think that skinny-dipping in the middle of the day and washing cars in a bikini was just part of my regular routine.

"I'm sorry about earlier," he said. "I'm not really into mornings."

"It's fine. I'm sorry I caused you trouble in the first place."

He shrugged. "I guess if you're gonna cause trouble you should do it naked, right?"

I hoped he thought my cheeks were pink from the sun.

Jake told me he'd be editing photos on his computer for the afternoon and to take the Jeep if I needed it. I decided to take him up on the offer because there was no way I wanted to hang around there and experience any more embarra.s.sing and awkward run-ins with him. Two in one day was more than enough.

After spending a few minutes on Craigslist and Monster, I put on my new interview outfit from H&M and headed out to look for a job. My first stop was an Italian "ristorante" that had posted an ad on Craigslist looking for servers with immediate availability. The restaurant, er, ristorante, didn't open until four so I rang the doorbell per the instructions in the ad.

NOOOOO! No, no, no, no, no! Caroline Ganier answered the door. Caroline Ganier, AKA the b.i.t.c.h who stole my boyfriend during our senior year of high school.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

His name was Riley. He was the star goaltender for our champion hockey team. You may remember the story about Winnie-the-Pooh, the guy who took my virginity. That was Riley. He was a master in the net, but a bit of a bore in the bedroom. Not that I minded. I was a high school student, not a p.o.r.n star. I didn't have anyone to compare him to anyway.

I liked having a hometown hero as a boyfriend. I felt that his popularity raised my worth as a person. During my freshman year, I just kind of blended in. I didn't play any sports. I wasn't in any clubs or the band. I didn't shop at Abercrombie & Fitch. And even though I was really smart, I was too quiet to speak up in cla.s.s, so no one knew it. No one really knew I existed.

After working on a Social Studies project together at the beginning of our soph.o.m.ore year, Riley took an interest in me. Suddenly, everyone knew my name. People said hi to me in the halls. I went from being one of the last girls picked when we divided into teams in gym cla.s.s to being one of the first, even though I had the athletic ability of a tree slug. I was invited to every party, went to every game, and there was always a seat saved for me at the hockey team's table in the cafeteria a seat many other girls were dying to sit in, including the s.k.a.n.k Queen, Caroline Ganier.

Go ahead and call me superficial if you haven't done so already, but I liked having friends. I liked being social. I liked having fun on the weekends instead of reading Sweet Valley High in my bedroom. When you're in high school, that kind of stuff matters.

We were the royal couple for the next two years. I was in the bleachers cheering him on at every game, including the away games. We went to every dance together and were both on Homecoming court during our junior and senior years. We were totally on our way to the coveted "Cutest Couple" spot in the yearbook.

It was the end of January, the morning of his 18th birthday, and I woke up bright and early and headed over to Riley's house with eighteen helium balloons in the trunk of my POS Buick.

I made a list of seventeen things I loved about him and then cut each item on the list into a little strip of paper about the size of the fortune in a fortune cookie. I put one strip of paper in each of the first seventeen balloons. In the last balloon, the big one that said Happy Birthday, I put two tickets to the Incubus concert the following weekend. I filled the balloons using the mini helium tank I'd bought at the party store. Once they were filled with helium I'd tied a string and one of his favorite candy bars to each balloon to weigh it down. It was a lot of work, but I loved every minute of it because it made me feel good to do nice things for people.

My intention was to get into his bedroom before he woke up and set the balloons around his bed so that when he woke up he'd be surrounded by balloons. I'd already made arrangements with his mother to let me into his room that morning.

It was 7:30am when I arrived. I knew n.o.body who'd been hitting the beer bong with the guys the night before would be up that early. I unloaded the balloons from the car carefully as not to get the strings tangled together. I lightly knocked on the front door. His mom answered right away since she knew I was coming.

I quietly walked up the carpeted staircase to his room, gently turned the k.n.o.b and pushed the door open softly.

Then I screamed.

s.k.a.n.k Queen herself was in MY boyfriend's bed, tangled up in his sheets with mascara all over her s.l.u.tty, ugly face and a major case of bed head in her ratty-a.s.s, over-processed, yellow hair. They both sat up when they heard me screaming, and she didn't even attempt to cover herself up. She just sat there in his bed, b.o.o.bs hanging out in the open, and smirked at me. Not just at me, but also at both of his parents, who had come running upstairs when they heard the commotion and now stood there horrified.

"HAPPY f.u.c.kING BIRTHDAY!" I yelled as I dropped the balloons before running down the stairs and out the door.

Not only was she a ho-bag, but she had a big mouth as well. My phone was flooded with phone calls almost immediately. People were willing to get out of bed early to hear that kind of gossip. I ignored the calls. It was too embarra.s.sing. I couldn't face anyone from school, but there was no way I was going to sit home and sulk while everyone I knew was celebrating that b.a.s.t.a.r.d's birthday at his party later. So I packed an overnight bag and headed to Mount Pleasant.

Mount Pleasant is a city a few hours from Ann Arbor and home of Central Michigan University, where both Adam and Jake were soph.o.m.ores. Adam decided on Central because they offered him a full scholarship to play for the basketball team. He wasn't really into the sport anymore, but he was good at it and figured it was the best and cheapest way to get his Bachelor's degree so he could move on to med school.

Jake had decided on Central simply because he didn't have the grades, the ambitions or the money to go to a more scholastic school, and he wasn't ashamed to admit it. Jake was all about the party scene and made no attempt to hide it. He joined a fraternity right away and had been telling me how great their parties were. When he was home on winter break he told me to come hang out and party with him whenever I wanted and I thought a college party was a good way to celebrate my newfound freedom. A one-night-stand would be the best revenge I could get. My goal was to meet a guy who would f.u.c.k me senseless and make me forget all about Winnie-the-Pooh and his stupid, s.k.a.n.ky honey pot.

I didn't even think to call first. I just got in my mom's car and drove off. When I arrived at the campus a few hours later I used my cell phone, my very first cell phone that I had gotten for Christmas a month before, and called my brother's phone for directions to his apartment.

"s.h.i.t," he said when he answered, "I've got a game in Buffalo tonight. I won't be back on campus until tomorrow."

I gulped in embarra.s.sment as my heart raced with anxiety. Had I driven all this way just to turn around and drive right back?

"Do you know the number to Jake's room?" Adam asked.

Jake didn't have a cell phone yet. It took a few phone calls back and forth with Adam and a few calls to Jake's frat brothers, but I was finally able to reach him. Once I told him where I was he said he'd be there to get me in a minute, no questions asked.

As I sat in my car trying to stay warm, I saw him walking towards the visitor's parking lot. He wore a burgundy baseball cap with a gold letter "C" on it, a navy blue zip-up hoodie with some white Greek letters sewn across the front and loose fitting jeans. He looked like a typical college frat guy. To a high school senior whose boyfriend was just caught f.u.c.king the town tramp, there wasn't a whole lot more enticing than a typical college frat guy. My heart raced again, but it wasn't embarra.s.sment or anxiety this time. I turned the heat off and fanned my face to stop the blush I felt creeping onto my cheeks. When did Jake get so hot? And why didn't anyone tell me?

I stepped out of the car when he approached.

"Where's your coat?" he asked.

I shrugged and rubbed my hands up the arms of my wool sweater to keep warm. "I left in a hurry," I explained.

He unzipped his hoodie. "Get in here," he said as he held his jacket open for me.

I put my arms inside the hoodie and wrapped them around his waist. He pulled the jacket around the back of me and held tight. I didn't mean to lose it, but with that one move, he made me feel safe and protected and loved, and I can't explain why, but it made me cry.

He rested his chin on the top of my head and held me tighter. "What did he do to you, Little Girl?" he asked.

I shook my head inside his jacket. If I talked about it, I would cry even harder.

He rubbed his hands up and down my back on the outside of his hoodie, and I let him hold me for a minute (and enjoyed every second immensely, by the way) before I let go of him.

He pulled off his coat. "Here, take this," he said. "I'll get you one for yourself when we get to the house, but wear mine for now."

All he had on underneath was a long sleeve white t-shirt that said Central Michigan Basketball on the front. Aww, he supported his friend. And took care of his friend's little sister, too.