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“Yes.”
“I hope you packed some warmer clothing than that, dear. It hasn’t been above zero here in weeks.”
“I did,” I assure her. I didn’t. And I know Canada uses Celsius, not Fahrenheit, but zero sounds pretty terrible.
The plane lands on the runway with a rough bounce, followed by a brisk braking. I look out the window as the flaps rise, slowing our rapid glide toward the bustling airport. Weirdly, it doesn’t feel like I’m arriving somewhere new. It feels like I’m returning home.
We reach the gate. Everyone stands and starts collecting their belongings, ignoring the flight attendants’ calls to stay seated and wait for the captain’s instructions. All I have for luggage this time is the small suitcase I packed for the two nights I was supposed to spend at Lauren’s house. Once I’m off the plane, it means I bypass the baggage claim and head straight for the exit.
I walk outside and feel like I’ve been slapped in the face. The woman next to me wasnotexaggerating. My luggage may have made it here this time, but I don’t think it’ll do me that much good. I rush toward the first taxi I see and give the driver Katherine’s address. He takes off eagerly, obviously happy about the total this trip will come to.
An hour later, he stops in front of the white Colonial. I pay the fare and drag my suitcase out of the back, then toward the front door. It’s unlocked, but the house appears empty.
“Hello?” I call out, just to confirm. Maybe I should have asked the cabbie to wait for me to drop off my luggage. I guess I could call Elliot, but I’m sick of having all of our conversations be over the phone or over text. Now that we’re both in the same place, I want to talk to him in person.
Footsteps sound on the stairs, and I glance up to see Annabel descending them. She looks completely different than the last time I saw her. Messy, wavy hair, no makeup, and she’s wearing a holey, oversized t-shirt.
She yawns. “What are you doing here?”
“I figured you’d be at school.” Last I knew, Annabel was going to the University of Calgary.
“I decided to take a gap year.”
“Oh.”
“So…what are you doing here?”
I hesitate. Elliot has been a sore subject in the past, and this is the most civil conversation we’ve managed since we were eight. Turns out, I don’t need to say anything.
“Elliot?”
“Uh, yeah.”
She nods. “He’s nothere.”
I don’t reply at first, too stunned that she appears to beteasingme. “Yeah, I know. I was just dropping off my suitcase.”
Annabel studies the small bag. “You didn’t pack much.”
“I know. This was sort of…spontaneous.”
“I guess so. Mom didn’t mention you were coming.”
“She doesn’t know. I just got on a plane.”
Both blonde eyebrows rise. “How unlike you. You mustreallylove him.”
“Uh, I just—”
“Relax. He loves you, too.”
That’s probably the last thing I ever expected to hear Annabel say to me. I have no idea how much of her resentment toward me was because of Elliot and how much was due to our complicated family dynamics, but it’s a shock either way.
“Uh, I don’t—”
“Ido. He told Cassie when she tried to hook up with him at her birthday party.”
“He what?”
