They had no idea who Michelle was.
I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but honestly, I just went from one prison to another.
My faux-aunt was stricter than the strictest nun at the convent.
So now, at twenty, I know next to nothing about real life. I’ve never been on a date. I don’t even know how to interact with people my age. Martina puts up with me, God knows why.
Heading to Boston now, I plan to be more social with my new classmates.
I don’t even know whether I’m shy or I’ve just forgotten how to talk to people. Because if someone starts a conversation, I tend to go into overdrive and say too much.
Oh, and I have another flaw: I’m brutally honest. I can’t lie to save my life.
It’s the kind of honesty that makes people say, “Don’t ask her anything unless you really want the truth.” There’s no filter between my brain and my mouth. I say what I think, and apparently, people don’t love that.
So yeah. That’s why I’ve decided to do a complete 180 with my life. I have to learn how to deal with people, and what better way than throwing myself into the world alone?
Well . . . not completely alone, at first. I’ll be under the care—ugh, the humiliation—of my brother’s best friend.
And that’s where most of my anxiety is coming from. The idea of being a burden already makes me cringe—but being one to Amos? That’s mortifying.
I really hope he doesn’t remember me—or the way I practically devoured him with my eyes that Christmas Eve.
The pilot announces the descent, and my heart skips a beat.
Once we land, I’ll have to text Ethan’s friend, since my brother said he’d be the one picking me up.
Please don’t trip,I beg myself. I’m already a mess just sitting here.
Twenty-five minutes later, we’re on the ground. The voice over the speakers welcomes us to Boston.
With trembling fingers, I grab my phone and type:
Me: Good evening. This is Lilly. My plane just landed.
I don’t expect an instant reply, so when the screen lights up, I nearly drop the phone.
Amos:I know. I’m waiting. Come on.
Wow. Not even a hi or good evening?
So much for a warm welcome. If there was any doubt that I’m not wanted, message received.
Deep breath, Lilly. You just need to survive a month.
In a way, it might be easier if he’s cold. That’ll kill any leftover crush I’ve been stupid enough to carry.
Amos:Get a cart to carry your luggage.
Seriously? Does he think I’ve never flown before? What the hell did my brother tell him? Probably about the boarding school, sure—but I lived in Paris for two years! I may not have had full freedom, but I’m not an idiot.
Me: It’s just one bag.
A few seconds later:
Amos:Okay.
Feeling even less confident, I grab my carry-on from the overhead bin and exit the plane.
