I close the book, my thoughts in a frenzy.
They’re just in-betweens, don’t belong anywhere.
I used to reread this part of the story over and over, if only to know I wasn’t alone in my feelings of not fitting in. But when I read it this time, it doesn’t quite pack the same punch. Something is different now, and I can’t figure out what it is. Maybe it has to do with me blowing up on my mom, because since that moment, I’ve felt so much lighter inside.
I stare at the book, trying to understand, when it hits me.
I don’t feel like I don’t belong anymore.
And not because I’ve chosen to be black or to be white, like I used to feel the need to do. It would be impossible to choose one because I’ll never fit either label. I’m not white. I’m not black.
I’m both.
And I do belong. In a category completely separate from my mom’s and from my dad’s ... I’m just right.
I’m me. I’m Willow.
The thought makes me smile.
I glance at Ash, expecting her to ask me why I’m randomly smiling like a crazy person, but she’s fast asleep, her phone facedown on her chest and her mouth open.
When I glance at my phone, I realize it’s nearly five. Theo should be home by now. In fact, he probably got home over an hour ago. I try not to feel offended that he hasn’t called me or come over yet.
I head outside, expecting to see Theo’s motorcycle parked in the driveway. But it’s not there. I frown, wondering where he could have gone. I try to recall him telling me about any plans he had after school, any prior engagements, appointments, or errands, but I come up empty.
I call him twice, but his phone goes straight to voicemail. My heart pounds in my chest, my worry starting to get the best of me. I’m just about to try calling him again, when my mom’s picture flashes across the screen of my phone. I answer her call. “Mom?”
“Willow,” she breathes, “You have to come to the hospital.”
“Excuse me?” I frown. “I just came back from the hospital ...” I groan internally at my slip-up, hoping she doesn’t question me any further. Ash hasn’t announced her pregnancy to our family, and she’ll kill me if I end up being the one to spill the beans first.
“Oh,” she says, her relief palpable. “You’ve been to see Theo, then? That was fast. I didn’t even see you come in.”
“Theo?” I shake my head, even though my mom can’t see me. “What do you mean Theo?”
“Theo’s here at the hospital,” she explains slowly, like I’m a child who can’t keep up.
“What is he doing there?” I ask, my heart threatening to escape from my chest. Maybe he went straight there after school, thinking Ash and I hadn’t left yet. There has to be a good reason why he’s there, because there’s no way, no way—
“Willow,” my mom says, her voice frantic. Her tone causes my adrenaline to run a marathon in my veins. “Theodore is hurt. There was an accident and he went unconscious. I was getting my nails done when the hospital called me. I’m his emergency contact.”
“What happened?” I don’t know how my mom hears me, because my voice is so quiet, I can’t even hear it myself. “Mom, what happened?”
“Apparently he got in an accident while he was driving home,” she says, her voice thick. My mom pauses for a long moment, and I don’t dare speak. “You need to come see him, Willow.”
Twenty-One
I’m back at the hospital for the second time today, this time the one my mom works at. I pace the waiting room, trying with all my might not to curl up into a ball in a corner and count. Over and over again. I try not to tap. I try not to crumble from the inside out. The rituals that flit through my mind present themselves so readily, as if to say, Here we are. The cure to fix everything that’s happening right now.
If there has ever been a time my compulsions felt justified, it’s now. Right now. Here, at the hospital, with Theo’s life on the line. Situations precisely like this one are what I try to prevent with my magical thinking.
This is my fear.
Someone I love, dying.
I don’t know how I’ll bear it a second time.
I cover my mouth with my hands, my face crumpling. My entire body shakes with sobs as I fall to my knees. People might be staring. They might not be. Either way, I don’t care right now.
Theo. Theodore William Tate.
My mom’s words from two separate occasions play in my head.
Rob is not a good man. And Theo was raised by him.
Apparently he got in an accident while he was driving home. You need to come see him, Willow.
A frustrated scream escapes me, echoing throughout the entire waiting room. A woman stares with wide eyes and ushers her daughter behind her back, shielding me from her child’s view. I don’t care.
This can’t be happening.
I don’t know why I haven’t started counting yet. What more do I have to lose? At least if I try, there might be a chance he’ll be okay. I don’t know how I’m supposed abandon my rituals when I need them so badly right now.
I start counting to five.
1, 2, 3, 4 ...
And stop mid-count, breathing heavily.
Theo wouldn’t want this. He’d want me to be strong, even if it meant letting him ...
Letting him die.
I shut my eyes impossibly tighter. That’s the worst-case scenario. I have no idea of his condition yet. For all I know, he could be fine. I open my eyes and search for a seat, refusing to meet the eyes of anyone around me. I find an isolated chair and sit down.
What was the promise I made myself? I can’t even remember it right now. All I can think about is Theo. His piercing blue eyes. His comforting scent, his irresistible voice. His teasing smile. How safe I feel in his arms. Him as a child, falling out of his tree house and breaking his arm. The way he held me and let me cry over my grandma into his shirt. Him painting my happy place.
My happy place.
I close my eyes and try to imagine it exactly how Theo painted it.
Me, in my white dress. Reading underneath a tree. A willow tree. A spring meadow beneath me. My little black dog by my side.
In, out. In, out. I breathe deeply. Not to any specific rhythm or pattern. Not tapping in time to my breaths. I just breathe.
In, out. In, out.
I go to my happy place and try to see what the Willow in the painting sees. I become her.
There is a warm breeze shifting the grass around, sending the pages of my book into a flutter. What am I reading? Perhaps Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.
My dog is snoring. It’s adorable. What’s her name again? Luna. Her name is Luna.
In, out.
The tree makes a rustling sound as its leaves scurry in the air. The scent of roses mixed with daisies wafts into my nose. Lavender, too.
Breathe, I tell myself. No rituals. Just you, in your happy place.
“Willow.”
In, out.
“Willow, sweetie.”
I open my eyes.
It’s my mom, wearing jeans and a black knit sweater. As soon as I see her, I spring to my feet. “How is he?” I ask. My voice sounds terribly hoarse. “How’s Theo?” Is he alive, is what I want to ask. It’s what I need to know, but I can’t make the words come out.
“He has a broken shoulder,” she explains. “And a concussion.” She grabs my hand. Her eyes are red-rimmed, but dry. She’s not wearing any makeup, and her blond hair is in a ponytail. “No fractures or bleeding. He was unbelievably lucky. It’s going to be okay.”
I don’t dare to breathe. “You mean ... he’s alive? He’s going to live?”
My mom blinks in surprise. “Live?” She squeezes my shoulder, her touch tender. “Yes. Of course, honey.”
I almost fall to my knees. “Can I see him?” I ask, my voice desperate. “Please?”
My mom sighs deeply. “He’s been asking for you for almost an hour. Why else do you think I called?”
/> I laugh, and it makes me feel lighter. However I felt about my mom now seems insignificant. Not gone or irrelevant, but smaller somehow. At least she was here with Theo until I could come. She leads me to his room, and motions for me to go inside. “I’m going home to try to get some sleep,” she says. “I’ll be back for my shift later tonight.”
I open the door. Theo is lying in the hospital bed, his right shoulder in a sling and covered in fresh gauze and bandages. His face is slightly swollen, and the shadows of bruises threaten to soon make their appearance more blatant. His eyes are closed, but when I take a few steps into the room, he opens them and looks around.
Our gazes meet, and I try to speak, but my throat tightens, preventing words from coming out and air from getting in.
He smiles faintly. “God, it’s so good to see you.”
“Theo,” I breathe. “What happened?”
He takes a deep breath, wincing in pain. “My bike stopped working.” Theo grimaces. “I crashed.” His voice is slower than normal, and a bit heavier, like it takes energy for him to speak.
My stomach drops. “What? What do you mean it stopped working?”
“The engine.” Theo tilts his head to the side. “I think it may have been tampered with. A new motorbike like that should run perfectly. But it wasn’t working after school. I didn’t make it very far before it stopped going and a car that wasn’t paying close attention hit me.”
“What?” My vision goes red. “Who would have messed with it?” I shake my head slowly, processing it all. And then it dawns on me. The way the bike showed up so randomly, so unexpectedly on his doorstep. How it was addressed to him anonymously, not long after Eliza visited him.
How Eliza said Rob was sending Theo a warning if he didn’t come home.
I don’t care, Theo had said.
“It was Eliza,” I say, half in a daze. “Eliza tampered with your bike. That was your dad’s warning for not coming home.” I shake my head. “In fact, I bet she’s the anonymous admirer who left it to you in the first place.”
Theo chuckles darkly and it’s anything but humorous. “I told you she’s twisted.” He closes his eyes and lets his head fall back gently into the pillow. “That bitch. If you’d been on that bloody thing with me when this happened—”
I shake my head impatiently. “Don’t. I’m just glad you’re okay,” I whisper. “I should have let you come with us.”
“What, because of all this?” He gestures to his shoulder with his free hand. “This is merely a scratch, love. Nothing that can’t be fixed.”
I take in his shoulder, his bruised face. His movements weighed down and heavy from his concussion. I swallow back my tears. “I’m so sorry.”
His eyes soften. “Please don’t tell me you’re blaming yourself for this.”
“If you hadn’t been alone,” I say. “If I’d been there with you, I could have ... I don’t know. I could have somehow prevented it from happening.” The words sound ridiculous as I say them, even to me.
“But I’m quite alive, aren’t I? And you didn’t have to do a thing.” He rubs my hand with his thumb, leaving goosebumps in his wake.
“Yes,” I breathe. “You’re alive.” But he could have died today, and I could have lost him, just like Daniel. Yet somehow he survived and I didn’t help at all. In fact, the only rituals I performed today were tapping and smiling at myself in a mirror. Based on what I’ve always believed my rituals could do if I followed the rules correctly, those two minor rituals couldn’t have saved him. Theo shouldn’t be alive.
But he is.
And it’s that revelation, more than anything else, that waters the seed of hope planted within me. Perhaps now it will finally be able to grow into something more substantial, like trust. Or maybe even faith.
Twenty-Two
It’s been a week of healing in the hospital for Theo, and when I get to his room after school, I kiss him lightly on the lips. I’m gentle, even though it’s only his shoulder that’s still healing. Most of his bruises are starting to fade, the cut on his lower lip practically gone, too.
“Eva got sent home today,” I tell him. “For wearing leggings instead of her scrub bottoms. Again.”
Theo rolls his eyes. “How hard is it to wear the bloody uniform?”
“And apparently Raymond wants to be Charlie’s new partner for the fashion show, since Eva is his model and keeps getting sent home.” I smile. “Don’t worry. Charlie’s loyalties lie with you.”
“Not to mention, I have much better bone structure than Raymond.”
I nod, trying not to smile. “True.”
Theo searches my face. “And you? How are you doing?”
“I miss you. School sucks without you.”
“I do make things more interesting,” Theo grins. “But at least you have Ash. It can’t be that bad.”
“It’s not the same.” I lean over and kiss him again, gently, still afraid to hurt him. But Theo pulls me on top of him and deepens the kiss. Before a nurse can walk in, I pull away, back to a standing position. “She’s having a gender reveal party.”
Theo frowns. “What? Who?”
I can’t help but laugh at his bewilderment. “Ash. She’s going to find out the gender after all. I can’t wait to see what it is. I think it’s a girl.”
Theo stares at my mouth. “Right. Me too,” he says, sounding very much like he couldn’t care less about gender reveal parties at the moment. He pulls me against him again and presses his lips to the side of my neck. His hands travel underneath my scrub top, tickling my lower back.
I can’t help the little sigh that escapes me, and Theo’s lips pursue my skin more fervently. My hair surrounds us like a dark curtain, straight today per Ash’s request. When Theo’s desire becomes even more physically apparent, I say, “We have to stop. Someone could walk in right now.”
“Always so responsible, little Willow.” Theo taps my nose. “I can’t get you to break the rules, just this once?”
“Don’t worry. As soon as you’re released, I’ll show you exactly how much I missed you.”
“Is that so?” Theo growls. “And what if I can’t wait that long?”
I swallow and get up before he can unravel my willpower. “Too bad.”
“Well, then,” Theo says folding his good arm behind his head. “I feel better already. Someone should fetch the nurse.”
I give him a withering look. “Just do your homework. Take your painkillers. Get lots of sleep.” I grab a pen off the nurse’s tray. “Here. You’re not going to be allowed to come back to school next week unless all of this is complete.”
Theo eyes the homework with disdain. “Rubbish. Mrs. Harrison is all mouth and no trousers.”
I snort. “You and your British phrases.”
“You’d hear a lot more of them if you came to London with me.”
“Won’t things just get worse with your dad when you go back?” I ask. “You’ll be closer to him, after all.”
“You needn’t worry too hard, love. I can handle him.”
The nurse opens the door and glances at me. “All right, time for this young man to get some rest before we discharge him tomorrow.”
“I want her to stay,” Theo protests.
I smile at the nurse. “No problem.” As soon as she leaves, I give Theo a stern look. “Do your homework.”
“Send me naughty photos.”
I laugh. “Only if you behave and listen to the nurse. Rest is the best medicine, after all.”
“No one likes a know-it-all, little Willow,” Theo says.
“Except you,” I say before closing the door behind me.
Theo takes my advice and does his homework before the week is up. Most of it, anyway.
Mrs. Harrison checks it meticulously, as if one small error is all the reason she needs to tell him he can’t come back. His situation is unique, because he’s only here for one semester. Typically, students who miss more than their allowed number of hours have to drop out and re
sume the following semester.
But as Theo said, Mrs. Harrison turns out to be all mouth and no trousers.
Over the next two weeks, Ash manages to perfect my final look for the fashion show. We practice it at my house on Friday morning the week before the show.
The only thing I haven’t seen yet is my costume, because Ash is still working on it. “I just need to make a few alterations,” she tells me. “I’ll probably be done by Monday.”
“I would offer to help,” I say, “but I have no idea how to do alterations.”
“That’s fine, because you’re the model, not the stylist. Leave the styling to me.” Ash tugs on my hair as she pins it into place. “Look. You’re done. What do you think?”
I glance at my reflection. “I look very Victorian,” I state.
She rolls her eyes. “Whatever. At least we’re following the theme.” She starts taking the hairstyle down. “Where’s your car, by the way? I didn’t see it out front when I got here.”
“I let Theo take it to the school counselor. He’s transferring his credits to the school he’s going to in London next semester.”
Even though the problem with his bike was corrected quickly—frozen peas and carrots in the engine left by Eliza, who claimed not to know a thing—he still doesn’t trust it. It would be easy for her to mess with it again, unnoticed.
Ash shakes her head. “I can’t believe you’re not going with him. I mean, he’s here for what? One more week? And then he’ll be gone. Thousands of miles away.”
“Thank you, Ash.” I purse my lips. “That really helps, you know.”
She shrugs. “Sorry, but it’s true.”
I sigh. She’s right. Theo will be gone soon, and I still haven’t found a new place to live. Everything is too expensive. At this point I might as well just stay with my mom. I don’t trust her, but I have nowhere else to go. Now I know what she’s capable of, so I’ll just have to be more cautious. It seems foolish to move out and live on my own.
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