Chapter 12
Reece
Something's wrong.
I've known McKenna long enough to read the signs—the way she chews her bottom lip when she's anxious, how she gets quieter when she's working through something in her head, the distance in her eyes even when she's looking right at me. Three days since Jett found us out, and McKenna's been doing all three.
It's Wednesday morning, and she's sitting at my kitchen table with her laptop open, fingers hovering over the keyboard but not actually typing. Her coffee has gone cold—I can tell by the way the steam stopped curling up from the mug twenty minutes ago—but she hasn't taken a sip since I poured it.
"You okay?" I ask, leaning against the counter with my own mug.
She startles, like she forgot I was here. "What? Yeah. Fine."
Fine:The most loaded word in the English language.
"Blue." I set my mug down and move closer, but she's already closing her laptop, that practiced smile sliding into place—theone she uses when she's trying to convince someone (or herself) that everything's under control.
"I'm just distracted. Lot on my mind."
"Want to talk about it?"
"Not really." She stands, carrying her laptop to the couch like she needs the physical distance. "I should probably start looking at apartments soon. Figure out my next steps."
The words hit like a punch to the gut. Apartments. Plural. Not an apartment here in Havenwood. Just...apartments.
"You're thinking about leaving." It's not a question.
She doesn't look at me. "I can't stay in your guest room forever, Reece."
"You haven't been in the guest room in two weeks."
"You know what I mean." She's scrolling through something on her screen now, deliberately not meeting my eyes. "I need to figure out what comes next. I can't just...drift."
I want to push, want to ask what changed between Saturday morning when we told Jett and now. But I've learned over the years that pushing McKenna when she's not ready only makes her dig her heels in harder.
"Okay," I say instead, and I watch something flicker across her face. Disappointment? Relief? I can't tell anymore.
She nods, already turning back to her laptop, and I grab my keys and head outside before I say something I'll regret.
***
By noon, I can't take it anymore. I need to talk to someone who actually understands how McKenna's brain works, and there's only one person who might have answers. I pull out my phone and call my sister.
"If you're calling to thank me for not showing up with a camera crew when I found you two, you're welcome," Jett answers, and I can hear the grin in her voice.
"I'm calling to make sure you're really okay with...everything."
"Reece. I'm fine. Like, actually fine, not my 'I'm fine but spiraling' fine."
She pauses. "Why? Did McKenna say something?"
"That's the problem. She's not saying anything." I run a hand through my hair, frustrated. "She's been weird since you left. Distant. This morning, she started looking at apartments in Raleigh."
Jett is quiet for a moment, and when she speaks again, her voice has lost its teasing edge. "Dude, she's spiraling."
"About what?"
"About everything. About deserving good things. About whether this is real or just some holiday fling that'll fall apart when reality sets in." I hear her sigh. "She does this thing where she convinces herself she's a burden, that she's too much work, that people will eventually get tired of her and leave. So, she leaves first."
