Chapter 23
I’m not exactly thrilled to go back into the hotel room, but at least Ethan is by my side and everything is okay now. I feel guilty for walking out without saying hello to Ethan’s parents, and I totally forgot to tell my own parents that I’d arrived safely. I fixed that by texting them when the previews started for the movie. But as for the Poes, I’ll need to apologize in person.
I stop just outside of the hotel door. Remembering how Dakota had heard us talking the first time I was here, I look at Ethan and whisper, “I’m scared.”
“Don’t be scared,” Ethan whispers back. His hand cups my cheek and part of me wants to pull away because I’m gross and dirty and need a shower. “You belong here. You have nothing to be scared about.”
I give him a soft smile because deep down I know he’s right. Kennedy is the one who should be scared to be here. I was invited, not her.
Ethan’s key card lights up the door lock and we step inside. The entire family is sitting in the living room watching the TV. My aunt and Roscoe are sitting on the floor next to the couch. Her eyes are glued to the news broadcast while she lazily pets Roscoe’s head. The Poes and Dakota are squeezed on the small couch and even Kennedy is being quiet, focused on the TV. She sits on a chair next to a small dining table.
“What’s going on?” Ethan asks. I don’t let go of his hand as we walk closer to the TV. I’ll admit, part of me wants to see the jealousy in Kennedy’s eyes when she sees me holding hands with Ethan, but she doesn’t even look over.
This must be serious.
I turn to the TV. The news is showing footage of the storm’s devastation. I recognize my old high school immediately. The walls are fine but there’s brown flood water at least two feet deep, running the entire length of the school. The flooding continues, as the helicopter camera pans out and shows water. So much water. Places where there used to be roads and grass and parks are now just water.
The news reporters talk over the video, and I hear things like five feet of flooding and my town along with several other nearby areas. They switch to showing footage that people sent in on their cell phones, and I watch a man holding onto the top of his car while the flood waters pull the car away.
My mouth falls open. There’s downed telephone lines, and cars with water over the roofs. There’s street signs just barely above the water, while some are immersed. People in boats travel around rescuing the people who didn’t evacuate while they wait on their rooftops.
I know we’re all watching for the same thing. We want to see our houses, our neighborhood. Some confirmation that the Poe’s house is either fine or under water.
We all sit here glued to the news broadcast for half an hour, and I don’t see their house. I don’t see my new rental house either. Or maybe we do and we just can’t recognize it because of all the water.
But I see other places I recognize. The diner Ethan and I ate at before leaving town has taken on several feet of water. That very booth we sat in is now ruined.
I hear a soft sob and look over to see Mrs. Poe with tears streaming down her face. Mr. Poe puts his arm around her and holds her tightly. We don’t need to see anymore. I think it’s obvious that no part of our town escaped without being flooded.
The news goes back to showing the reporters sitting behind their desk. They talk about other cities that have been affected by the storm. The tension in the room turns into sadness.
I look over at Ethan. His expression is somber. He squeezes my hand.
Aunt Donna clears her throat. Now that I look at her I can tell she’s had a shower. She’s clean and looks a decade younger, wearing one of Mrs. Poe’s matching track suits. Her hair is washed and pulled back in a bun.
“I’m very sorry for your loss,” she tells Mrs. Poe. “If you need any help at all, I’ll be there. I can pull out drywall and carpeting. I’ve done it before.”
Mrs. Poe smiles. “Thank you, Donna. That’s a very kind offer.”
“It’ll be okay,” Ethan says. He glances at me before looking back at his parents. “Ella has already been through this before. But it was worse. She lost her whole house. Ours probably just got flooded. We’ll be fine.”
“We can just live upstairs until the downstairs gets renovated,” Dakota chimes in.
Their parents give them a look of appreciation. “That’s true,” Mr. Poe says. “We’re going to be okay. At least we’re all here.”
“At least we’re alive,” I say.
If there’s one thing I learned about the tornado that took my whole house last year, it’s that life is more important than things. You can get a new house, even if it’s small and it’s a rental and it sucks. It’s still just a house. You can get new things. You can make new memoires in a new place. But you can’t do any of that without your life.
Mrs. Poe stands up. “I think we’ve seen enough news for the day. There’s nothing we can do from here, so why don’t we do something fun? There’s a huge pool downstairs.”
“I’m game,” Dakota says.
“I have a swimsuit,” Kennedy says.
Of course she does.
Everyone gets ready to head to the pool, but I stay behind. I tell Ethan I want to take a shower and get clean before I do anything else. He shows me to the bedroom that we’ll be sharing, and we actually have our own bathroom in here.
