Page 38 of Within These County Lines

So I wrote down the names of every state that didn’t border Pennsylvania, tossed the slips of paper into a mason jar, and picked five. I could only afford five application fees.

This seemed as fair a way to choose as any.

By December, I had applied to the University of Kentucky, the University of Tennessee, and the University of Nevada.

California was my first draw, but I quickly learned their state schools barely accepted out-of-state students. I wasn’t about to waste an application fee, so I pulled another.

I also drew Utah and Washington. But Murray made me miss the deadlines. Every time I submitted an application, he wouldn’t speak to me for weeks. Two more rounds of silent treatment felt unbearable, so I just didn’t apply.

When the acceptance letters came, I chose the University of Nevada because it was the farthest from Penango—mileage-wise—per my and Whitley’s pact.

But then Mom found out it was in Las Vegas.

“You think I worked day and night my whole life to send my child to school in a city where people go to ruin their lives?” she scoffed.

“University of Tennessee it is,” I said.

But now none of it matters.

I did a fine job of ruining my life on my own.

19

I wake up an hour before my alarm on Monday morning, my mind still buzzing from everything I learned this weekend—about Xander, about myself, and potentially about the Ardor Tree.

Something strange is happening in Penango County for the first time in its history, and somehow, I’m tangled up in it. This mystery has unearthed itself and wraps around my ankles like overgrown tree roots, tightening and twisting, keeping me trapped in this valley like everyone else who never made it past the mountains.

Xander and I agreed to visit the Ardor Tree later this week. He seems more eager to figure out what’s happening to us than I do. I want answers, but I’m afraid of what they might mean, if this whole thing might be permanent.

He’s spent years frozen in time, forever seventeen. But if that happens to me, if I’m trapped in this limbo with him, it means Whitley will grow old without me. My future friends at the University of Tennessee will move on, stepping into their twenties and adulthood while I stay behind, unable to even get into a bar.

Penango will be the only place I have left.

At work, Whitley chats about her plans to join the pep band at the University of Florida and rambles on about the dozens of beaches she’s already mapped out. Every word flips my stomach. Every time she mentions Florida, I picture Tennessee and the image isn’t as bright as it used to be.

I press a hand over my right ear and turn up my latest podcast, Stories of Appalachia. It’s about folklore from the region. I listen closely, waiting to hear if Xander’s case ever made it into an episode.

Whitley’s voice quickly cuts through my thoughts. “Why are you being so quiet this morning?” she asks.

I blink. “What?” I fake confusion, swallowing hard. “I’m just trying to get organized for this week.”

A lie.

I don’t tell her about the financial aid. Or that I might be half ghost. Or that I’m communicating with a full ghost.

The pact we made earlier this year makes all of it worse. If I don’t go to college, I’ll be letting her down. I don’t want to be another person who bails on her.

I wipe the sweat from my forehead and take a deep breath, forcing myself to swap out my negative attitude for something more productive.

Do they give bonuses here? Probably not. Getting zilch in financial aid must be karma for breaking up with my boyfriend before I even had a solid plan to leave town.

Fifteen dollars an hour seems like a lot when I’m buying burgers at the Bean and used vinyl records from the thrift store on Main. But now that I need money for . . . oh, I don’t know . . . anything useful—it’s a joke.

Whitley stares at me. I can’t rely on her for everything. The universe must be telling me that if I want to get out of here, I have to start taking matters into my own hands.

“I’ll be right back,” I say. “I need to talk to Victor.”

I enter his office and find him hunched over his desk playing solitaire on his computer.