Page 83 of Wherever You Are

A week.

The timeline rings shrilly in the pits of my ears.

After the shock wears off, I stuff the crumpled brochure into the envelope and wedge the thing in my pants pocket. “Is that it?” I wonder.

My mom and dad exchange a look, and then she sets her concern on me. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it a little more?”

“What else is there to talk about?” I ask. “It’s a done deal, right?” I stand from the dining room table. Not wanting to speak to them anymore. They’ve already proven how much power they have over my life.

Dazedly, I walk out of the dining room. Neither my mom nor my dad tries to call me back, and I snatch my blue Dalton Academy beanie off a coat rack and find gloves. I think about grabbing my skateboard from the garage, but I abandon the board and just walk.

Faster and faster.

Out the front door. Down the driveway. Past the mailbox.

I pick up speed until I jog towards Loren Hale’s house. Cold rips through my lungs, and I welcome every bit of it.

Slowing to a stop, I see the red brick house and Christmas decorations. Nothing extravagant. Lights twinkle on a few trees and a wreath hangs on the front door.

As I veer up their driveway, I slip on the slick cement. My worn boots have god-awful traction, and before I face-plant, I grab onto a decorative, iron deer. My heart hammers.

Not just from almost falling.

I hope Willow is here.She has to be.One good thing has to happen today.

I need to talk to her. Face-to-face. Right now. Get this news off my chest.

I carefully climb the porch stairs. Crusted ice and snow covers the doormat, and I stand stiffly. Hesitantly. Not that many people in this house evenlikeme. After my birthday—where Willow stayed at my house later than she intended—I can’t even tell if I’m on Loren Hale’s good side anymore.

And there’s ahugechance I’ll be met with anyone but Willow.

Everyone who lives here:

Lily Calloway

Rose Calloway

Daisy Calloway

Loren Hale

Connor Cobalt

Ryke Meadows

Maximoff Hale (six-months-old )

Jane Cobalt (seven-months-old)

So yeah—a lot of fucking people are inside.

Willow planned to stop by here for Christmas, so I hope she’s made the drive already. No cars are in the driveway, but maybe she parked in the large garage.

I’m afraid I’ll have to interact with Rose and Connor.

Loren and Lily—I don’t mind as much. They’re still celebrities, untouchable in a sense, but they’ve been cool towards me. Daisy is nice to Willow, but I don’t really talk to her—and Ryke is whatever.

He saysfucka lot, and every time I meet his eyes, I remember all the videos I’ve spliced together with hisfucksand uploaded to YouTube.