“Well, Maren is…”
“Maren,” we say together.
“I’m still working on Maren,” Folly admits. “But she did say she was proud of me for walking away.”
“I would have, though,” I say, so quietly. “Forgiven you for anything. You could have come to me at any point, and I would have taken you back in. No questions asked. No conditions. Didn’t you know that?”
She rubs away a tear on her cheek. “It was different with you, Paige.”
“What do you mean?”
Folly looks off, her eyes glazed. “I was so lost. Depressed, probably. Constantly heartbroken. Looking for my purpose in all thewrong places. I wasn’t driven like Maren, or loveable like Candice, or a quiet genius like Zara.”
“Well,” I say, smiling as I gather my knees against my chest, “neither was I.”
She smiles back, though it’s sad. “But you were only eighteen, Strawberry. You had every chance in front of you to figure your life out. If I’d stayed in it, I would’ve just messed you up. I knew that when I left for Portland, and I knew it when IleftPortland.”
A curious, frustrated part of me wonders if Maren ever said a similar thing to Folly. If ever Maren’s warnings todon’t be like Follywere alsodon’t let Paige be like you.
“For the record, Fol, I didn’t figure much out about myself without you. I just found a different sister to follow,” I admit despondently, gesturing loosely around the room. “But Zara is gone now. And Maisy and I don’t talk anymore. So.”
“Zara mentioned,” Folly says with a frown. “What are you planning to do now?”
My eyes flick to the cracked door of my room, then away. “I’m not sure yet.”
She bites her lip and says, “Me either. I just knew it was time to come back and decide on something.” With a wry grin she adds, “Dad raised five daughters who are as different as can be—who’ll go anywhere, do anything—but can’t forget about home.”
“Is that true?” I ask.
She shrugs. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
In a lot of ways, Folly is my soul sister. She’s a person with way more questions about herself than answers, and when we’re together, she reminds me it’s okay not to have a crystal ball for my future.
We talk for almost an hour. I convince her to cancel her hotel room and grab her things, then come back to my apartment for dinner. Folly departs after sheepishly introducing herself to Liam, who acts like the perfect gentleman.
“Why’d you tell her you hadn’t figured much out aboutyourself?” he asks when we’re alone, rubbing his hands up and down my arms.
“Oh. Because I haven’t?” My laugh is brittle. “But that’s the thing. Follygetsit. She doesn’t expect me to have a five-year plan. She and I aren’t built that way. Not like Maren and Zara andyou.” I smile up at him, but he doesn’t match it.
Liam’s lips push down at the corners. “What about your songs?”
I shake my head. “That’s just a hobby, Liam. It’s just for fun.”
He blinks at me, eyes serious. “I think it can be for fun, andalsosomething about you that’s important. Important enough to share with your sister when she asks you what you’re planning to do now.”
“Where is this coming from?” I ask, stepping back. “I thought you wanted—”
I thought you wanted me to come with you.
He may as well have yanked the rest of the words from my throat. It’s obvious where I was going with that.
Something he overheard from my bedroom is freaking him out. This is the same look Liam gave me on the blanket in the park. As if he’s realizing he’s in over his head.
It’s gone in a blink, and he’s kissing me hard. Like an apology. Like he’s sorry he ever made me doubt him. But I can feel the conflict in the warmth of his lips. In the shakiness of his fingers on my throat.
“So, I’m your sort-of boyfriend?” he asks with a smirk, pulling back.
“You got a better word for it?”
