On the other side of Alex stands Hayley’s older brother, Dylan, his tattooed thumbs gripping his pockets, his eyes hidden behind a pair of Ray Bans, and his dirty-blond hair swept up messily in the wind. Not that I’ve ever seen it look neat. Despite being suited up for the wedding, the guy still looks like he just fell out of bed. He was wild-looking even when he was a teenager and I was a little kid running around Hayley’s swimming pool, secretly hoping he’d scoop me up and toss me in.
When swiping through the images becomes too painful, I back out of the app and open my bank account. I have just enough in there to send Hayley some flowers—money I’d earmarked for groceries this week, but I can always borrow more stock from the store and pay it back later.
Biting away tears, I order the flowers, then find the courage to call Dad to tell him the devastating news.
CHAPTERTHREE
DYLAN
“This is really stupid,”Hayley groans.
I ignore my baby sister’s rude comment the way my therapist, Sarah, told me to and continue staring out the car window at the sign until the tightness in my chest begins to ease. Every so often a car whizzes past, but I keep staring while we’re pulled over on the shoulder.
Welcome to Still Springs
Population: 1,212
EST: 1862
Will they deduct two from that number now that Mom and Dad are gone?
I blink back the tears that have been plaguing me since yesterday’s phone call while Hayley taps her manicured nails against the steering wheel. “Come on, Dyl, we’re already late.”
This is exactly why I wanted to rent my own car. But she said that would be pointless since we were both flying into Baltimore. I’d offered to drive, but she refused to let me behind the wheel of her cherry-red Audi A3 that she can’t seem to keep between the lines.
“One more minute,” I say, tracing each golden letter with my eyes as the breath locked in my throat slowly pushes through my lips.
Still Springs. The town where we all grew up. A place I loathe with every fiber of my being. If it weren’t for most of my family living here, I’d never come back. Usually, it’s straight to Mom and Dad’s for whatever holiday we’re celebrating, stuffing my face until I can’t eat anymore, and then it’s right back to Texas.
As soon as the funeral is over, I’m gone.
“You good?” Hayley asks.
I take one more deep breath. “Yeah, Buttons. I’m good.”
She throws the car into drive without another word and whips onto the road.
I massage my aching chest and do my best to regulate my breathing as we drive past our old high school, the lone gas station, the car wash—nothing has changed. Not that I expected it to. But still. It’s unnerving.
I close my eyes and lean against the headrest, counting the number of breaths I take until Hayley slams on the brakes.
“We’re here,” she says.
When my eyes open, and my parents’ three-story brick colonial fills my vision, a fresh wave of panic crashes over me. “This isn’t the funeral home.” I’m not ready to go inside yet. Not when Mom and Dad won’t be waiting at the door to greet us. I thought I’d have another hour, maybe two, to prepare myself.
“Alex thought it’d be a good idea to meet here first,” Hayley explains.
“Why?”
“Family meeting.” She says that as if it should be obvious.
Except it isn’t obvious because Mom and Dad were the only ones who ever called King family meetings. And they aren’t fucking here.
I force myself out of the car and head straight for the porch.
“Aren’t you going to bring in your stuff?” Hayley calls from the rear of the car.
“I’m not staying here.” That’s where I draw the line. I can’t see Dad’s ratty old armchair sitting empty every time I set foot in the living room. I can’t open the fridge and not find one of Mom’s “famous” apple pies waiting for me.
