To her credit, Abbie — despite not being my friend for nearly as long as Maisie, and even considering the fact that she was going for the same spot — has been very supportive and celebratory. When she saw the competition results, she’d texted me a dancing emoji, saying something about me representing Seattle.
Now, she’s sitting across from me in a simple black dress, wearing dark jewelry and her signature mauve lipstick, which somehow doesn’t leave a print on the espresso glass. The soundsof the coffee shop — grinding beans, steaming milk — are all around us, creating a soft cacophony of noises to muffle our conversation.
“Don’t feel bad,” Abbie says, waving her hand, then peeling back the wrapper on her chocolate muffin. “I’m sure itwasa lot. But I’m sure once you agree to it, you’ll get more detailed information. It won’t feel so big and, like, nebulous when you can break it into smaller pieces.”
I think about the various U.S. cities they mentioned; the stops in Europe, then Asia, then South America.
“Right,” I say, quickly wiping the butter from my hands onto a little napkin, which is damp from my iced coffee’s condescension.
Last night, I had a dream that I was back in the cabin. That Rowan had never seen those pictures, or that, when he did, he’d talked to me about them.
We hardly know each other, and yet I wanted him to trust me. To give me the benefit of the doubt.
“No offense,” Abbie says, which I’m learning is a bit of a catchphrase for her. “But I really think you should at least talk to that guy. I said it before, and maybe it’s not my place to butt into your business, but you just— I mean, I saw you in the first part of the video. Part of what works is your ability to hold both. Being silly and light and fun with being reflective, you know? And right now, I’m not getting either from you. It’s like the spark is gone.”
“Hmm,” I add, sipping from my coffee, which is mostly melted and watered down. “Would you say Ilost my mojo?”
“I never saw you with it,” Abbie says, raising her hands, palm-up, “but yeah… maybe I would.”
“You and my friend Maisie would get along great.” I laugh, and Abbie’s expression loosens a bit. “She’s also saying I should go and talk to him.”
“Well, that means you’re outnumbered. So, are you going to do it?”
I look out the window over Abbie’s shoulder, to the bustle of traffic I used to think I loved. Growing up in New York, I thought the sounds of cars would always lull me to sleep.
But lately, I’ve been craving quiet.
“Yeah,” I say, shrugging, pulling my gaze back to hers. “Maybe.”
CHAPTER 24
ROWAN
Iwas always a bit sensitive when I was younger, and developed phobias easily — like with the storm and the falling tree. My parents handled it well, and I got through it all with their help.
The summer after they died, I had the worst anxiety of my life. Every night, I dreamed about the day they died, the phone call that came after the accident, rushing to the hospital, only to discover they were already gone.
I’ve long since healed from then, gone through my grieving and come to terms with it, but any time I feel anxiety, it brings me back to that time in my life.
I haven’t felt anything like it in a while, and now, as I drive into town, I feel it again, my heart hammering against my chest, my mind going a bit fuzzy.
After Belle left last night, I tried to cling to the man I was when I refused to go to the doctor and told my sister to leave. The same man I was when I got Lola’s things together and forced her to leave.
But I just couldn’t do it. By the time I was crawling into bed, I couldn’t stop thinking about everything — Lola arriving on my doorstep, the pictures and videos on my phone, Belle’s care for me. Belle’s insistence that I don’t throw my life away when Elliot and Hannah never had to; Lola’s comments about not hiding away forever.
So, this morning, after a night of tossing and turning, I decided I would do a test. Check Lola’s online presence for evidence of me. If she’d doxed me or posted anything that could be interpreted as revealing my location, I’d return to the mountain and never entertain the thought of coming down again.
But if she hadn’t… I would talk to Belle. Consider venturing down now and again. Consider having my sister in my life again, as long as it would be safe for her.
Talk to Lola. Go to her and beg for forgiveness.
The only problem is that I have no Wi-Fi, no cell service, not even satellite internet up at my cabin. I didn’t want to risk someone coming through it, even with the security measures I could have put in place.
Which means I’m here now, a baseball cap pulled down low over my face, turning onto Main Street. My EV whines softly. I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed driving, taking the turns down the mountain in her.
The downtown area is cuter than I remember in the few times I’d been here, the coffee shop decorated with pumpkins and bats, specials out on the sidewalk advertisingWitch’s Brewlattesand pumpkin spice everything.
A couple pushes a stroller down the sidewalk lazily, laughing together. A woman and her dog sit on a bench nearby and Cheese turns, pressing her nose up against the car window.
