on my head. “I don’t know how to even maintain one with a bodyguard without screwing it up. And that’s like a built-in friend. I didn’t even really need to try.”
He gives me a hardass look. “You’re not giving yourself enough fucking credit, Sulli.” He messes my already messy hair.
It makes me smile.
“You ready to go back?”
I sigh. “Can’t I run forever?”
“Your feet will bleed.”
“I’ll bandage my toes.”
“You’ll fucking cramp.”
“I’ll limp.”
“You’ll be alone.”
My face sobers. “Won’t you be there?”
He shakes his head. “My knee is bad, Sulli. I can’t keep up with you forever.”
Then Moffy will, I want to say.
Moffy will be with me forever. I wipe my nose that drips snot, but my eyes are dry now. Growing up is fucking hard. Even if there were no cameras, no spotlight, no fame—I think I’d still struggle.
I’d still want to run forever.
When I change directions, we walk towards the bright headlights.
My dad tells me, “You’re going to have fights with your friends. It fucking happens. You know how many times me and your Uncle Connor wanted to rip each other’s fucking head off?”
But I doubt my dad asked Uncle Connor to take his virginity. The thought makes me snort, and my dad smiles like he made me feel better.
He did, just not exactly how he thinks.
Turns out, the car isn’t a security vehicle after all. The three SUVs behind it are, though.
We approach the green Subaru from the passenger side, and the window rolls down. Revealing my mom, a blonde bombshell. Her smile pulls a long, old scar that weaves across her cheek. “All aboard,” she calls and unlocks the car.
“Hey, sweetheart.” My dad kisses my mom through the window.
I climb into the backseat. A young Golden Retriever lets out a happy whine from the trunk. My mom’s service dog for PTSD goes almost everywhere she goes, and I give Goldilocks a scratch behind her ears.
Winona spins around from behind the wheel to get a good look at me. With flyaway dirty-blonde hair, friendship bracelets, and a utility vest and cargo shorts, my fifteen-year-old sister looks like an ad for Patagonia or Wolf Scouts. She’s the whole outdoor package. “What’d Akara do this time?” Her eyes flame.
I can count the number of fights Akara and I have had on one hand. Not fucking many, but they’ve all been recent enough that Winona has grown more protective.
I should be the protective one. I’m older by six years, but she’s so much cooler. Even driving on a learner’s permit, she somehow seems like she can do anything. Scale any mountain, swim any ocean.
I can do those things, but I don’t exude the same effortless coolness.
“He was quiet,” I say in a wince.
“What?”
“It was dumb.” I can’t even rehash the event without feeling second-hand embarrassment from my own embarrassment.
Her eyes soften.
My dad has swapped seats with my mom. She scoots in beside me, and when I lean into her, she lovingly cups the side of my head.
“It’ll be okay,” she whispers.
I breathe in.
Yeah.
It’ll be totally okay.
How am I going to face them tomorrow? They’re my bodyguards. Inescapable.
As though reading my anguished face, my mom asks, “You want us to drop you off at the penthouse or would you rather stay with us?”
“Spend the night with us,” Winona says fast. “I whale-y miss you, sis.”
I sit up more. “I whale-y miss you too, Nona.” And I’ll gladly take a night with my family. Avoidance can’t be that fucking bad for the soul. Not when I’m with my sister and my mom and my dad. “Let’s go home.”
“Groovy,” Winona smiles, stepping on the gas.
Windows down, wind whips through the car, and I wonder if it’s strange that I call my childhood house home. I haven’t lived there for a couple years, and still, it feels like home.
Where I’m safest. But if I want to experience more out of life, how much higher do I really need to fly from the nest?
Pulling out my phone, I type out a text.
I’m spending the night at the cottage with my fam
I add a thumbs-up emoji and send it to Akara.
My phone buzzes in a second flat.
K. Call me if you need anything or if you leave. – Kits
It’s so formal.
No emojis. No gifs.
I can’t tell what’s happening to my friendships, except that they’re changing. I wanted them to in a way, but not like this. And I don’t have many left to destroy, but they’re all imploding around me.
3
SULLIVAN MEADOWS
TEN DAYS LATER
I wake up before the crack of