I turn my head to face the cottage, soft blades of grass tickling the side of my neck, my cheek. “Dad?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
A small seed of comfort blooms inside me at the endearment. “Do you think she planned this? Flying me out there so she could ... s-so she c-could ...”
After a moment, a door shuts, and wind rustles through the line, like he just stepped outside. “Yes.”
“That’s why she kept asking if I was happy.” I rub my damp palms on my shorts. “She wanted to make sure I would be okay without her.”
He stays silent. The truth is so obvious I don’t know how I didn’t figure it out months ago.
I’ve wondered so many times why more people don’t wake up early enough to watch the sunrise. How they could sleep past the trill of birds chirping, or patiently sit in a classroom all day without itching to explore the landscape just outside its walls. I thought that meant they didn’t get it—that connection, the pull toward life, the energy thrumming all around us. The truth is, I’m the one who didn’t get it.
I understand now. It’s possible to be connected to everything and yet feel disconnected entirely.
Joshua and I aren’t the only islands in the world. We are two in a sea of millions, and every island has to fight against storms too far below the surface for anyone else to see. Sometimes, the water is calm enough to let you experience your surroundings—a bird’s song, the sun’s warmth, the slight chill of a perfect breeze. Other times, water levels rise, turbulence yanks at your foundation, and there’s no sign of light.
No storm is the same, and there shouldn’t be any shame in that. Not for Mom, and not for me.
I only wish this storm knew when to stop.
“So what’d you do?” I ask.
“Isn’t it obvious? I told her to get her head out of her ass and poured my drink down the front of her shirt.”
My mouth falls open, and I glance at Kimmie, my hand pausing over the box I’m packing. “You did that? To Tiffany?”
“Don’t feel bad for her. The bitch clawed my hair when I tried to leave Tommy’s.” Kimmie picks up one of my mom’s crystals, a smirk playing on her lips as she adds it to the box before me. “Besides, we made that party awesome. It’s been, like, almost two weeks, and people are still talking about it.” Her smile fades, and she lets out a sigh. “I can’t believe it, but I’m actually going to miss all those idiots when we graduate. Bless them and their empty pea-sized brains.”
I huff out a laugh, shaking my head while I reach for the next stone.
When I told my dad I wanted to finish the school year at Burroughs High, he offered to fly out here to help me pack the last of my mom’s inventory I’m bringing back with me. I turned him down, but he insisted on sending someone, so I ended up surprising him by asking for Kimmie. She was the obvious choice. If it were my dad or Joshua standing beside me now, my resolve to figure out how to stand on my own two feet would have crumbled the instant they stepped under this roof. Even now, my eyes are puffy and tender. I never knew it was physically possible for one person to cry so much.
I look up, brushing back the hair that’s fallen in my face, and watch Kimmie smack her gum. She catches her reflection on the wall mirror and starts fiddling with her new bangs.
When she spies me staring, she says, “What?”
“Nothing. What are you going to do after graduation? I heard you got accepted to all three of the colleges you applied for.”
“Yeah, it’s whatever. I’m not going.”
I stop packing to look at her, but she keeps sorting through crystals as though she didn’t just say that. “Really? But ... is your mom okay with that?”
“Well, it’s not like I’mnevergoing. I just want to take some time off and explore life. I don’t know, I kinda wanna do something crazy, like backpack through Europe or something.”
I can’t wipe the surprise off my face, but Kimmie doesn’t notice—or maybe she does and just doesn’t care. I admire that about her. There’s a lot more to her than she shows on the surface.
She nods toward the two boxes with the stones. “You realize you’ll have to hide these things from Amber, right?”
“What? Why?”
“She’s gotten crazy into this stuff. She dragged me to a crystal shop in downtown Dallas last weekend and spent a freaking hour talking to the owner about them.”
“Wow. I had no idea.”
“Yup. Something to do with her grandma, I’m guessing.”
My brow furrows as I eye the stone I’ve just picked up: celestite. “How is she? Her grandmother?”
