She looked at the car, her eyes scanning until they found me, and held my gaze before turning back around. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but judging by my mother’s stiffened body language, it wasn’t a pleasant conversation.
Warren didn’t acknowledge me before going back inside. My mom came back to the car, opened the driver’s-side door, and poked her head in to look at me.
“Hey, Bug. I’ve got some good news and bad news. Which do you want first?” Her voice was angelic and warm, like being wrapped in a soft blanket fresh from the dryer.
“Bad news first, I guess,” I replied with a shrug.
She sighed. “Your dad has to work on a new case this weekend.”
“Okay,” I answered flatly. “What’s the good news?”
“Now you get to ride shotgun and be the DJ for theentiredrive to the campground.“ She beamed, scrunching her nose.
It was one of my favorite trips we ever had.
Just me, my mom, and a tummy full of s’mores. Sleeping on a slowly deflating air mattress, our tented roof acting as the only barrier between us and the stars.
I miss her immensely.
Everything feels like too much. Morning light filters through the curtains, soft and delicate. It’s only my fourth day here, but somehow it feels longer.
No one has knocked on my door. No one’s called or texted.
Everyone seems to be keeping their distance—too much, maybe.
My feet dangle over the edge of the bed and I’m wrapped in the quilt that is quickly becoming my emotional support blanket.
I can’t help but think of her.
Being in the mountains, surrounded by nature and crisp, fresh air. She would have loved it. She would’ve known exactly what to say to make this feel like it was going to be the best summer of my life.
I would give anything to have her here.
But she’s not. And wishing for her doesn’t change the fact that I’m here. Alone.
But I’m going to try. For her. Because she would’ve wanted me to make the most of it. To stop hiding in this room and at leasttry.
I’m in the middle of brushing my teeth when a sharp knock sounds at the door. I quickly spit into the sink and wipe my mouth with a towel before opening the door.
Emmett stands in the hallway, hands tucked in his back pockets, rocking lightly on his heels.
He looks almostnervous. DoImake him nervous?
“Hey,” I exhale—at the same time he says, “Hi.”
We both laugh, a little breathless, and he nods for me to continue. “You go first.”
I exhale slowly, rubbing the hem of my shirt between my fingers. “I wanted to apologize for everything the past few days. I, um—I shouldn’t have lied to you about coming to dinner.”
“Honestly, it’s not your fault.” He rubs a hand behind his neck and leans into the doorframe. “You were right—Wes is a total dick sometimes. He has a knack for knowing exactly what to say to piss someone off.”
“It was my fault, though. It was rude to lock myself in here and to lie to you.” I trail off, taking a deep breath. “And then I interrupted your breakfast, demanding you guys fix something for me. I was acting like an entitled brat, and Ihatethat.”
Emmett bites his cheek. “Yeah. About that—um, Wes shut off the hot water.”
“What?”
“We were trying to come up with ways to get you to come out. My dad was so convinced the smell of his cooking would be too good to resist, but when it didn’t work…Wes shut off the hot water.”
