“She passed away while Amber was visiting her.”
I shut my eyes briefly, tracing my thumb along the stone’s edges. “That’s horrible.”
Kimmie gathers her dark hair and pulls it into a ponytail. “She’s okay, Blue. She’s a fighter, like you.”
I laugh—no one has ever put me and fighter in the same sentence—and Kimmie winks. She tosses me the shipping tape, and I feel her gaze on the side of my face as I start to seal the first box. I look up, raising an eyebrow.
“Tim misses you,” she blurts. “And so does Hunt. It’s so obvious.”
The tape slips from my grip, and I take a breath before bending down to pick it up. My hands are unsteady as I finish sealing the box. “I talk to my dad every day.”
“Yeah, on the phone. It’s not the same. Trust me, I would know.”
I meet her gaze, and she looks away. I can’t even remember the last time her dad showed up to see her.
“Listen,” she continues, “I’m not trying to push you. Obviously, it’s none of my business, but he’s ...” She rubs the side of her arm awkwardly. “He’s a good dad, you know. Kind of the best. And he’s hurting too. I just think it wouldn’t be the worst idea to maybe fly back tonight instead of two days from now.”
I start on the next box, a swallow sticking in my throat. “I know, but I thought ... we’ve rented this place from Benji’s parents all my life, and I think I should help get it ready in case they want to rent it out agai—”
“They won’t.”
“But they might.”
“You’re fine.”
“And then with finals coming up, I just—”
“Just what?” Kimmie throws her arms up. “You have people in your corner, Blue. I know for a fact Hunt would be here in a second if you’d let him. Why do you insist on going at it alone?”
“Because, Kimmie,” I snap, dropping the tape dispenser on the floor as irritation floods me.
She gasps, her eyes widening.
God.I swipe my hair back from my forehead. Put my hands on my hips. Feel the familiar pressure behind my eyes start to build. “Because in the end, it’s up to me.”
“What’s up to you?”
“Everything.” I let out a dry half-laugh. “I’m the one who’s still here. There are balms, sure—people who could ease the pain—but it’s only temporary. At the end of the day, I’m it. I’m the one who puts my head on the pillow every night and opens my eyes each morning. I’m the one I see when I look in the mirror. If I can’t learn how to hold myself up now, I never will.” A tear slips down my cheek, slow and almost deliberate, like it’s making sure Kimmie doesn’t miss the show. I watch her eyes track it, her lips parted in shock. In private, I’ve learned to let myself cry, scream, and shout, but this is my first time crying in front of anyone other than Benji or Joshua, and although it’s only one measly tear, my arm burns with the need to wipe it away. Instead, I keep both hands locked on my hips. “I need to know I have my own back, okay?”
Kimmie stares at me. I think she’s still in shock. But then she pushes out a breath and gives her head a small shake. “Okay. All right.” She moves close and tentatively wraps her arms around me. It’s almost like a hug, except she stops halfway through closing the gap and cringes. She pats my head like a dog. “That makes sense, and I actually think you’re being really strong.”
“Really?”
“Really. But you need to know that you can have your own back without being afraid to lean on others too.”
I jerk my head back, half a second away from rolling my eyes for the first time in my life. “I’m notafraid.” I say the word like it’s disgusting when, in reality, I think I’m more terrified of being afraid than anything. The word goes against everything my mom said in her letter to me.
Kimmie quirks an eyebrow.
I quirk one right back but quickly realize I’m an amateur compared to her. My shoulders deflate.
She smirks and pops a bubble.
Blue
Less than two seconds after ringing the doorbell, Amber’s large brown eyes are centered on mine, curls springing around her face. The instant her gaze drops to the small box tucked under my left arm, her mouth opens to form a small circle.
“Wha—Blue!” She gives me a quick hug. “What are you doing here? Did y’all just fly in? Hold on.” She peers over my shoulder, toward the Toyota Camry with tinted windows parked in front of her house. “Did Kimmie get a new car?”
