Because I don’t.
I can’t stop the cry that’s ripped from my lungs any more than the tears blurring my vision as I race from the room. Someone calls after me, but I can’t hear what they’re saying and I don’t wait to find out. My flip-flops pound against the sidewalk, my arms pumping harder, my legs burning until I can’t go any farther. My back hurts despite the second sports bra, the weight of my chest another reminder of the things holding me back here.
Ducking off the side of the road, I hide behind the trunk of a magnolia tree, resting my back against it and pulling out my phone.
My finger hovers over the call button, and I squeeze my eyes shut. I thought I could do this. I thought I could just make it through my senior year with my mother and graduate with my friends in the town that I thought I’d live forever in.
But I can’t.
Not after this.
And screw Talon for being the final nail in that coffin of a dream.
I barely feel myself tap the screen, but then the phone is ringing and my father’s voice fills the line.
“Cora? Are you all right?”
“Daddy,” I rasp and I can hear him shuffling around like he knows what’s next, “I need you to come get me.”
“I’m on my way.”
I swallow hard. “Can I still come live with you?”
“Of course, but”—his car starts in the background as a tear slides down my cheek—“are you sure that’s what you want?”
“Yes.” And I mean it. “I’m never coming back here,” I whisper defeatedly.
“We’ll pack all your things as soon as I get there.”
1
PRESENT DAY
[Social Media Post from the Taste of Magnolia Food Truck]
It’s Taco Tuesday and we’re so excited to be camped out by the Hayes Resort! Come down and see us!
#supportlocal #tasteofmagnolia #magnoliapoint
Unknown: I can’t believe that monstrosity is allowed to be parked anywhere in this town. Such a disgrace.
2
CORA
“Okay, the last thing we need is…” I scan the list as my best friend, Aspen, rolls her eyes.
“Watermelon,” she says knowingly, and she’s right.
“Fine. Why don’t you go check out and I’ll grab one.”
“Do you want me to wait? They’re heavy.”
“It’sfine, I can totally handle it.”
“Sure thing, boss.” She waves her hand as she wheels the cart toward the front of the market.
“I hate when you do that!” I call after her, but her only response is laughter floating on the breeze that I’m damn thankful for because it’s gonna be a hot one.
