I sit down on the couch and think back on the last few years. I often wonder why Sloane has never come back, not that it’s any of my business, but I do worry about her.
Whenever asked, Briar just shrugs it off like it’s no big deal, but I feel like it should be. I know that I would be worried if Mason were able to come home, and just didn’t. But I guess that’s the difference between Briar and me.
I’m curious what this summer will look like. I’m curious to see what Sloane’s become since leaving Timberline.
3
SLOANE
Four days in a car all by yourself gives you plenty of time to think about all the reasons why going back home is a horrible idea. The first thing that comes to my mind is the toxicity of Monica and Briar. I’m just barely arriving in Denver, and I can already feel myself slipping back into the person I used to be. I can feel the girl who was crying to be saved, the one who just wanted to be loved.
I honestly couldn’t even tell you what I did to earn the treatment they gave me. I was a good kid, at least if my competition was Lottie and Kaden. I behaved, kept my head down, and stayed out of everyone’s way.
My therapist, James, says that it’s because I never needed them, at least not in the typical sense. Sure, I needed love and some attention, but I didn’tneedthem. It took me a long time to understand what he meant, but he broke it down to me like this: my two siblings needed praise; they needed to be seen. They would do anything to make my parents happy.
I didn’t need those things. I never needed to prove myself, I never did anything to ‘earn’ their love, so therefore I wasn’t valuable to them because they couldn’t manipulate me into doing whatever they wanted. I was the anomaly, theweird one.
That’s what James says, anyway, but I feel like that’s too simple an explanation for why I’ve been hated by my own parents. It has to be something deeper. If that’s all they needed was for me to need them back, I would have figured that out,right? I could have so easily fixed all of my problems.
My fingers tap against the wheel impatiently as I drive through Denver, making my way towards Timberline.
My tires crunch over the gravel as I turn up the driveway to Beckett’s house.It’s modern, secluded, and it one hundred percent screamsHayes Men Live Here. Even though Mason moved out a few years ago.
I take a deep breath and turn off my car. I’m not sure why I’m so nervous all of a sudden.
Maybe because I haven’t seen him in a few years, I’m not the same person who graduated from Timberline High School.Or maybe because I’m not sure that he wants me here, invading his space.
Regardless, I can’t keep sitting out in this man’s driveway like a fucking creep. So I get out, grab a duffel bag, my phone, and my Hydroflask out of the front seat, making my way up the sidewalk to the front porch.
I take a final deep breath before knocking on the door.
I only have to wait a few seconds before the door opens to reveal Beckett Hayes in all his glory.
I stare at him wide-eyed. I shouldn’t be star-struck…has he always been this hot?That feels weird to think, since he’s basically family. But I have to take a moment to just stare at him. Same dark hair with the slightest sprinkle of gray, same strong-broad build. Something is different, though…I’m just not sure what.
It’s ok, because I think he’s just as surprised to see me, by the look on his face. He just stares at me for a moment, like he hasno idea who I am. So to break the ice, I speak first, in case he really doesn’t know who I am.
“Hey, Uncle B,” I say with a soft smile.
“Sloane?” he asks, recognition finally registering in his eyes.
“The one and only,” I say, my smile widening a little more.
“You look…” He trails off as he eyes me up and down. His eyebrows knit in confusion, like he’s not sure if I’m playing a prank on him or not.
“Different? Yeah, that’s what happens when you trade cookies for carrots,” I joke lightly, only he doesn’t laugh.
That’s probably because it’s not funny. I was told for years that the way tofixmyself was to ‘go for a walk’ or to ‘eat healthier.’
He doesn’t respond right away, just looks at me like he’s not surehowto respond. He shakes his head slightly after a moment and opens the door wider for me to come in. I think about hugging him for just a split second, but ultimately decide against it.That would be a little too weird,right?
“Thanks for letting me stay. I swear that I’m potty-trained, and I like to keep to myself. You won’t even know I’m here,” I say, cracking another joke to help ease the subtle tension.
Again, nothing. Not even a quirk in his lip.Tough crowd.
I always forget how serious he often is.
“It’s fine, I don’t mind. You can stay as long as you need. There’s food in the fridge, write down anything you need, and I can pick it up when I’m off work.”
