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“Well, you have a lot to look forward to,” Laney said. “You’ll be off to Austin soon. You’ll love it there, fit right in.”
Bronte stuck her finger up in the air. “And don’t forget my wedding. We’ll swim in the ocean and dance all night.”
“And,” Gem said with a flare of her hands, “the bachelorette. Guys, I’m so fucking excited, you don’t even know.”
“Oh, we know.” Sam laughed. “The party goblin version of you has been locked up too long.”
Gem’s brown eyes went wide and a little wild. “She’s been patiently waiting to be freed.”
“Eighty-one days,” Laney reminded them.
“Until then,” Bronte said, “enjoy your time at home, Sammy. Maybe you’ll find some old treasures while going through everything.”
“And hey, for posterity,” Laney said. “Everyone smile!”
The girls all grinned into their screens as Laney screenshotted the foursome. “I’ll text it to you guys.”
The photo came through on their text thread which Gem had named the4whoresmen of the apocalypse.
“What’s wrong with my eye?” Gem laughed.
“My glasses are crooked,” Bronte said.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me I had icing on my lip?” Sam asked.
Laney grinned. “I look great.”
2
Two months later, Sam opened the front door of her childhood home in Akron, Ohio. Not much had changed since the last time she’d been there two Christmases ago.
“Dad?” When he didn’t answer, she toed off her sneakers before walking around piles of boxes and random stacks of books and other items. Upstairs, at the back of the hall, was her bedroom, practically the same since she’d left it almost ten years ago, painted geometric patterns in orange and purple with strings of star lights hung from corner to corner and bits of song lyrics taped up on the walls. She tossed her bags on the floor and flopped back onto her bed. In a matter of months, someone else would be living in this bedroom, staring up at the ceiling. Maybe they’d put their own set of glow-in-the-dark stars up there after she’d taken hers down.
Memories repressed from childhood filtered through her mind, and she wiped at her eyes as if she could wipe away the recollections. But much like the scars buried deep on her heart, those memories would not fade.
“Sammy? Are you home?”
She sat up at her father’s voice drifting up from what sounded like the kitchen. “Yeah. Upstairs.”
A few minutes later, Phil Kohler stood in her doorway, gray mixed in with his dark hair, his face tanned from the sun, his eyes crinkling behind his glasses when he smiled. “Hi, honey.”
“Hi, Dad,” she said, going into his arms when he opened them for a hug. “Were you gardening?”
“Yep.”
Her dad worked as a botanist for the federal government, often traveling to other states to help manage agricultural studies. Gardening was the one thing that kept him focused, and their yard had always been perfectly manicured. The inside of the house, though, that was left to disrepair and disarray after the divorce.
“You look good,” Phil said, inspecting her from top to bottom.
“Thanks. So do you.” She gestured to his jeans and T-shirt covered in sweat and dirt, and he smacked his hands along his thighs, a few specks of earth dropping to the floor. Both of them dropped their gaze to the carpet, and he let out an exhausted laugh.
“I’ll vacuum that later.” Although they both knew he wouldn’t.
“Gav’s at your mom’s house, but he’ll be here tomorrow…I think.”
Sam’s little brother was nine years younger than she was and graduating high school in June. Even though she didn’t talk to her parents a lot, she tried to keep in touch with him as much as the eighteen-year-old, video-game-obsessed kid would let her.
“Do you want me to order pizza for dinner?”
