Page 79 of Until the Last Star Fades

“At least you’re admitting it now, before it’s too late.” Fuck, should I…? Riles, give me a sign. His fingers gripped the leather bracelet on his wrist.

“That’s what everyone keeps telling me—except Erika. She thinks I’m making a huge mistake. Mom was relieved more than anything, I think.”

“Why?”

“A bunch of reasons. She thinks I’m too young to get married, and Josh wasn’t the most supportive. Everything was his career, where he wanted to live…”

“That sucks.” So does this. She took my stupid friends speech at face value. It’s out of my hands. She’s not interested in me. Dammit!

“I don’t know why I’m crying. It’s so…stupid.” Riley scrunched up her face and swiped away stray tears. “Look, can we talk about something else? Sorry, it’s…”

“Yep, absolutely! Fire away.” And shoot me now.

“Tell me about England and Scotland.”

“Oh, sure. What do you want to know?”

“What’s Scotland like?” They shifted around a vendor’s table piled high with knockoff designer purses.

“Beautiful. Old. Cold, but the people are warm. I don’t remember much about Edinburgh—we moved to England when I was six.” His eyes drifted to a cart selling hot dogs and large pretzels. “Oh, hang on. Sorry, still peckish.” He dug in his pocket for change and smiled at the seller. “Want one, Riles?”

She shook her head.

“A pretzel, please.”

The vendor stared at him. “Five bucks.”

“Five?! Nice try, buddy!” Riley glared. “Just because he’s got an accent! Ben, it’s two bucks.”

“Shit, is it? I’ve paid five every time.” Ben exchanged money and snide looks with the vendor. He took his pretzel and they walked on, Central Park’s leafless trees poking the blue sky ahead.

“When you moved, was it just you and your mom?”

“Yeah, down to Slough. It’s west of London.”

“Piper said you lived in Windsor…?”

“Yeah, but later, briefly.” He offered the warm pretzel. “Salty goodness! Go on, have a bite!”

She waved him off. “No, I’m good. So, why Slough?”

“Mum heard Ben Sr. had quit drugs and moved there. She wanted me to have a relationship with him, so she packed us up and down we went.”

“Based on what you said before, I guess it didn’t go well?”

“Nope. He wasn’t easy to find, and when she finally did track him down, he was living with some woman and their kid. He was working at the Mars factory and I got really excited—free sweets!—but I never got a single Milky Way. He never came to see me.” Ben bit the pretzel and chewed quickly.

“Did you ever meet your half—”

“Brother.” He swallowed so he wouldn’t be talking with his mouth full. “No. He’s called Ben Jr. Nice, eh? I literally got replaced with a newer model.”

“Oh God.”

“Yep.” Reaching into the bag, the pretzel’s salt stung his finger. Ow! Papercut. “As if being a little kid with a weird Scottish burr in England couldn’t get any worse. I had no dad, couldn’t spell or read well—this was before my dyslexia was diagnosed. Kids picked on me.” He sucked on his finger, washing away the salt. “My no-name secondhand PE kit didn’t help me fit in either. In my school, if you weren’t sporty or didn’t have the latest Adidas trainers, forget it. Social Siberia.”

“That’s terrible!”

“Yeah. I’d hide behind the old church next door or in the library stacks, waiting for playtime to finish. A year or two on, things were still bad, so I changed what I could. I’d never own a pair of new Adidas or have a dad, but I could lose my Scottish accent. Took a while, but I did it.”