Page 39

Chapter 39

Everett

At some point, the Philadelphia skyline disappeared and so did the traffic. “Good riddance,” Grace joked, tossing her cowboy hat in the backseat and tousling her golden curls before putting on some Lana DelRey. Lana wasn’t my sisters’ favorite, but I knew enough from Grace. She also dug around in the center console for the SweeTart stash she usually kept on hand for me (I had Whoppers for her). Once my lips had turned blue from the blue raspberry flavor, Lana had officially lulled me to sleep. “I’m just going to rest my eyes…,” I mumbled, but was a complete goner. Grace squeezed my leg once, and then I was out like a light.

I didn’t wake up until she stopped short behind a minivan, probably forty minutes later. We were approaching our exit. “Hello there.” She smiled. “Have any dreams about me?”

I straightened up in my seat, eyes widening at the dashboard clock. “It’s five-fifty!” I exclaimed. “Grace, you only have ten minutes!”

We were fifteen away from her house.

She laughed and shook her head. “Remember? My parents are getting happy hour drinks with our new neighbors?”

“Oh, right.” I sighed in relief. “The Vermont people.”

“The Vermont people,” she confirmed, then dropped into her sick voice. “My mom called me a little while ago and told me, too. She promised James would be home soon.”

I laughed. “So you have more time.”

She nodded.

“That’s good,” I said.

“Yes, it is,” she agreed, throwing a glance at me. “Because I don’t want to take you home yet. You don’t”—she paused—“you don’t really look like yourself.”

“No?” I pulled down the mirror to see that she was right. My lips were still dyed from the candy, but my face also was too pale and my hair a mess. Somehow, I looked both tired and crazed. Understandably, because my Phillie Phanatic day had been a lot. And, it wouldn’t be over yet. The game would still be in full swing. I couldn’t go home.

Home. The worst part about our childhood adventures with Dad was them ending, him dropping Isa, Grace, and James back at home. You’d think that after an entire day together, everyone would have had enough of each other, but no. It seemed like there was never enough time. No one wanted the sun to set on Saturdays.

“Thank god,” I said. “Because I really don’t want to go home yet.” Grace was absentmindedly massaging my shoulder. I started replaying the stolen waterfall moments in my mind. Grace’s hands, Grace’s lips, Grace’s…I swallowed. “Where should we go?”

She considered—or pretended to consider—then brightly said, “Do you remember the discussion we had earlier about a janitor’s closet?”

I felt the color return to my face, cheeks warming. “Yeah, I do.” I coughed. “A terrible option.”

“Yes, exactly,” she said as she stopped at a red light. “But lucky for us, our options have now exponentially improved.”

I didn’t say anything.

She readjusted her hands on the steering wheel before looking at me. “Do you want to come home with me?” she asked softly, almost shyly.

“Grace.” I cocked my head, teasing the dimples that I knew she was borderline obsessed with. “What kind of question is that?” I leaned over to brush two fingers across her nose. “Of course I want to.”

We grinned at each other, and a beat later, the traffic light turned green.