by Shana Norris
I pressed my lips together. I’d be going back to Willowbrook in three weeks to start my senior year.
I forced myself to smile. “So this is good-bye,” I said.
“I got a signing bonus,” Jude said. “I talked with the bank and worked out an extension to pay off the missed payments once the bonus comes in. So for now, I think things will be okay.”
I twisted my hands together. “I can talk to my dad. Maybe he can refinance your loan, get you a lower payment—”
He put his hands over mine. “It’s not your problem. My mom and I got ourselves into this mess. We’ll find a way to get out. I’m talking to my mom about rehab and therapy. She’s against it right now, but I’ll keep talking to her as long as it takes.”
“If you ever need anything . . .” I let my voice trail off.
He smiled. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”
Silence fell between us. A car drove by and birds swooped from tree to tree overhead. Explosions of red and yellow and orange wildflowers swayed back and forth in the breeze among the grass, filling the air with a sweet scent.
“There’s something I need to do before I leave, and I wanted you to do it with me,” Jude said.
I raised my eyebrows. “What is it?”
Jude stood and held his hand out to me. “Will you come with me?”
I slipped my hand into his and followed him to his truck. We were silent as the old truck bumped down the street. We drove into Asheville and I smiled at the sight of the city nestled among the mountains. I had come to love Asheville. It had become a part of me.
An idea hit me suddenly.
“I’m going to apply to UNC-Asheville,” I announced.
Jude glanced over at me. “Oh, yeah?”
I imagined myself waking up in Asheville every day, seeing the mountains and the brown city. Biltmore Estate and Chimney Rock, the waterfalls, the Blue Ridge Parkway. Ashton and Kate at colleges nearby, and Aunt Lydia. I didn’t want to give any of it up.
“This is it,” I said. “This is where I want to go to school.”
Jude smiled, nodding. “I think you’ll fit right in.”
We pulled into a cemetery. Lush green grass spread over the sloping land around us, dotted with small markers. Solar-powered lights lit the pathway through the gravesites as the summer evening grew darker. Jude parked the truck and we climbed out.
He paused at the edge of the road, taking a deep, shaky breath. “I haven’t been here since the funeral,” he told me.
I reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly. “I’m right here if you need me.” There were a few other visitors in the cemetery, but they were several yards away, tending to their own loved ones’ graves. It was quiet, and the evening was still.
The marker was small, not much different from the others around it. A halo was etched into the top of the stone with the words “LIAM—Beloved son and brother” underneath.
Jude didn’t say anything for a long time. I leaned my head against his shoulder as I looked down at the grave of the guy who had impacted me so much this summer, despite the fact that I had never met him. I felt like I knew Liam through his brother, that what had made him who he was still lived inside Jude.
“I should have brought flowers or something,” Jude said at last, laughing. He reached up with his free hand and swiped at his cheek, sniffling a little.
White wildflowers grew under a nearby tree and I hurried over to grab a handful. Then I placed the makeshift bouquet at the foot of the marker.
“There,” I said. “Now he’ll know we were here.”
A smile spread across Jude’s face. “Thank you.”
We didn’t talk much, but we stayed at Liam’s grave for a long time. The sky was dark and dotted with stars when we finally left.
Back at Aunt Lydia’s house, I didn’t know how to let Jude go. What would happen once he drove away? Would I ever see him again? That summer was about me learning to let go and find myself, and Jude was a part of that, too. A part of who I was becoming.
But I didn’t want to make promises that we might not be able to keep. It wasn’t the right way to say good-bye.
“I’ve never been anywhere else, you know,” Jude said as he looked out at the homes that lined the darkening street. “I’ve spent my whole life here.”
“There’s a lot to see out there,” I said. “It’s easy to get lost if you’re not careful.”
He grinned. “I’m always careful.”
I laughed. “Sure, you are.” I couldn’t look at him as I scuffed my foot along the ground. “Just promise me you’ll take care of yourself.”
He leaned toward me, pressing his forehead against mine. “Do you trust me?”
I looked up into gray eyes I knew so well. “Yes.”
A moment passed between us, but neither of us moved. Moving would make things complicated.
“Are you afraid?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said. “But when something scares you the most, that’s when you should do it.”
I smiled. “Rule #2.”
His mouth stretched into a grin and I felt something stir inside me, something big and scary and complicated.
He moved first, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me tightly against him. I clung to him, wanting desperately to never let go. I didn’t want to think about him somewhere out there, facing dangers I had only seen in movies. I didn’t want to think about the possibility of a gray stone with his name next to his brother’s. I forced myself to focus on the moment, to hold on to it as if I could keep him safe just by believing he would be. I wanted to feel the solidness of him forever.
It was like Jude had said: when something scares you the most, that’s when you should do it. It was Rule #2. A promise we had made to ourselves and to each other.
It was what gave me the courage to lift my face to his and kiss him.
Neither of us pulled away, as if we’d waited our entire lives to be in that moment. All of my fears vanished in that kiss. I didn’t doubt any of the electricity and emotions surging through me.
When we finally broke apart, I looked back into his eyes and I knew. Jude was it. He was the one who had helped me become whole again over the summer.
He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against mine.
“I’ll write to you,” Jude promised, his hands clenched around mine. “And call you. Every day. Every second I can.”
I laughed. “Try to focus on your basic training every now and then in between all those calls and emails.”
His eyes shone with worry as he said, “Don’t forget about me?”
I squeezed his hands tightly. “I could never forget about you.” I meant it. Whatever happened, whatever we made of the long distance relationship beginning between us, wherever our paths led us in the future—I knew I would never forget the guy who had changed my life.
Who had changed me.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Is that everything?” Aunt Lydia asked as I closed the trunk.
I nodded. “That’s everything I brought with me.”
The summer sun was already high in the sky overhead, but I could feel the change beginning in the air as August stretched toward September. Summer was ending, and I was headed back home to Willowbrook. It was hard to believe I’d been in Asheville for two full months.
“Wait,” Aunt Lydia said. She held up her finger and then dashed back into the house.
I looked at Ashton and Kate. “What’s that about?”
Kate shrugged, but Ashton looked like she knew something. Before I could press her for details, she threw her arms around me. Her dangling earrings got caught in my hair and Kate had to help us get free.
“I’ll miss you!” Ashton exclaimed.
Kate wrapped herself around me from the other side and we stood there in a big group hug until I laughed.
“I can’t breathe!” I joked.
My friends released me and stepped back. My friends. It made me smile to think tha
t.
“Text us every day,” Ashton said.
“About everything,” Kate added.
“I will,” I promised.
“I have something for you,” Ashton said. She reached into the canvas bag she wore across her shoulder and pulled out a small object wrapped in newspaper. I peeled back the wrapping carefully to find red, blue, and green glass glittering in the sun. It was the piece of glass we had found at the recycling center, only it was framed with an intricately designed wire border. As I looked closer, I saw that the wire had a hidden design: Ashton, Kate, and Hannah.
I smiled widely as I looked at Ashton. “Thank you,” I said. “I love it.”
She looked uncertain. “You do? It took me forever to make the border just right.”
“I do,” I assured her. “It’s beautiful.” And it really was. As I looked again at Ashton’s gift, it reminded me that there was beauty in imperfection. Art didn’t have to be made from traditional methods, and life didn’t have to follow traditional paths.
Aunt Lydia returned, carrying a square canvas that she held pressed against her chest. “Me next. A goodbye present,” she said as she handed it to me.
I sucked in a deep breath as I looked at the painting. It was Asheville, but it was also Willowbrook. The two towns were combined into one picture in a way that made them seem like one city, but I could still see the defining qualities about each.
“When did you paint this?” I asked.
Aunt Lydia beamed. “These last few weeks,” she said. “When we came back from Paris, I didn’t feel stuck anymore. I just had to paint.”
I hugged her and kissed her cheek. “Thank you. I love it.”
Aunt Lydia’s eyes looked glassy as she smiled at me. “Remember you can come back any time you want, and you can call me. Even in the middle of the night. I’ll always answer.”
I laid the painting and the stained glass carefully on the passenger seat of my car. Five hours was a long drive and I didn’t want anything to happen to them.
I hugged everyone one last time and then climbed in, shutting the door behind me. The ignition started with a soft rumble and I backed out of the driveway.
Aunt Lydia, Ashton, and Kate stood on the lawn waving at me as I pulled away. I looked up in my rearview mirror to see them one last time, then focused on the road ahead.
I was ready to go home.
#
The house was quiet as I stepped into the foyer, my footsteps echoing in the large room. I had hoped my mother would be home, but it seemed like she had decided to stay in Paris after all.
I walked up the stairs to my room, feeling the sting of disappointment. My confrontation with my mom hadn’t done any good. Nothing had changed, and I didn’t know why I had hoped that it might.
“You’re home,” said a voice behind me.
Mom stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame. She clasped her hands behind her back and bit her lip.
“I thought you weren’t coming home for another week,” I said.
Mom shrugged as she stepped into the room and sat on my bed. “I’ve seen everything there is to see in Paris. I was getting a little bored.”
She had the same casual Marilyn Cohen tone, the one she used whenever she wanted to brush something aside. I turned back to my suitcase, which I had set on the other end of my bed.
Mom was quiet, but she didn’t make any movement to leave. I unzipped my bag and began to unpack, keeping my back to her.
When I turned back around, I saw a tear slip down Mom’s cheek.
“Hannah,” she said softly, “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to be angry with me or disappointed in me. I’ve tried so hard to give you everything I never had.”
“I just want a mom,” I told her. “That’s all I want.”
Mom wiped at her cheek with the back of her hand and nodded. “I’ve been talking with your dad. He says the . . . the center has really helped.” It was the first time she hadn’t called it the resort. She was making progress. “I think . . . We think it would be a good idea if I started some sessions with one of the therapists there.”
My mouth dropped open. “You’re going to rehab?” I asked.
Mom cringed. “Not like your father is. I’m going to do an outpatient program. I still have too much to tend to, and you to look after….” Her voice trailed off and then she bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I guess you don’t need much looking after anymore, do you?”
I sat down next to her and slipped my arm through hers. “Not so much, but a little.”
Mom smiled as she ran a hand over my hair. “Sometimes it’s hard to believe you’re almost grown up. Other times, it seems like you’ve been grown for a while. Just one more year and then you’ll be all on your own.”
I looked at her, holding my shoulders back. “I meant what I said in Paris. I’m not applying to Yale.”
Mom nodded. “I know. Your father and I talked about that.”
“And you’re okay with it?” I asked.
She sucked in a deep breath. “I’ll get used to it.”
I leaned against her shoulder and she rested her chin on my head. “I really am sorry for this summer,” she said.
“You already apologized to me,” I said. “But I think you owe an apology to Aunt Lydia.”
Mom stiffened. “For what?”
“For the baby,” I told her. “Aunt Lydia told me everything.”
Mom let out a long breath. “Did she tell you that I miscarried three times before you were born?” she asked.
I sat up, staring wide-eyed at her. “You did?”
“I didn’t want Lydia to have to go through what I did,” Mom said. “It’s still painful for me to think about. And when Lydia miscarried, I . . . I hated to see my sister crying like that. She didn’t have a partner to lean on, like I did. She was on her own, and I couldn’t make it better. I didn’t want her to hurt.”
“But you hurt her by what you said,” I insisted. “You owe her an apology.”
Mom looked down at her lap. “I know. I’ll call her. I promise.”
“Don’t be afraid to face reality,” I said, smiling. “That’s Rule #4.”
Mom smirked at me. “And whose rule is that?”
“Mine,” I said.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“What do you think about this?” Avery James held up a bright yellow poster board for my inspection. She’d scrawled “STUDENT COUNCIL BAKE SALE: BUY GOODIES TO SUPPORT YOUR SCHOOL!” on it in big letters.
“If it looks good to you, it looks good to me,” I said.
Avery put the poster board down and sighed. “I just don’t know if anyone will actually pay attention to it. I bought the brightest color poster board I could find.” She made a face. “Being president is a lot more work than I thought it would be.”
I stuck my tongue out at her. “I tried to warn you.”
Avery shot me a quick scowl. “Don’t gloat just because you have the easy job this year. All you have to do is keep track of the money.”
I waved the official senior class student council treasurer’s notebook at her. “And that’s a lot more work than you think, especially when all of you keep asking for money to buy poster board.”
“Who’s giving out money?” Zac Greeley asked as he bounded into the room. He stopped long enough to greet Avery with a kiss before hopping onto a desk and swinging his legs back and forth.
“No one,” I told him sternly.
“I distinctly heard something about money,” Zac said. He tapped his ears. “I have excellent hearing when it comes to monetary concerns.”
I laughed as the rest of the student council trickled into the room. The school year was already nearly a month in, and so far, senior year was the best year I’d had in a long time. Jude and I texted or called every day, anytime he got a chance in between his duties at basic training. I missed him so much, but I could tell that he was doing well and was proud of himself in a way he hadn’t felt since before his brother died.
I’d cut a lot of extracurriculars out of my schedule and eased up on my workload. I had decided not to continue my reign as student council president and instead took the treasurer job. I was happy to let Avery take over for once.
Strangely enough, Avery and I had started to become friends again. We were still competing against each other for valedictorian, but it was a friendly rivalry. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if I was named salutatorian.
Mom was not happy about my cutting back on school activities, but Dad was on my side. He’d come home from rehab a few weeks before and he wasn’t working quite as much as he had been. We were both learning to slow down and enjoy life. Dad was still continuing his rehab, but on an outpatient basis.
Mom had also started rehab for her alcohol problem. Sometimes we went to therapy sessions as a family, sometimes my parents went on their own.
“So are you excited about this weekend?” Avery asked.
The fluttering sensation in the bottom of my stomach grew stronger at her words. “Yes,” I said, unable to keep the smile off my face. “I can’t wait.”
“Your parents still riding down with you?” she asked. “Because my offer stands. I will go if you need extra support.”
I shook my head. “Thanks, but no. Mom and Dad have completely cleared their schedules for the weekend and told everyone not to call them.” My parents and I were leaving early to head down to Georgia. The plan was to check out a few small colleges along the way before we reached our real destination. I had already submitted an early application to UNC-Asheville, but I was keeping my options open. “It’ll give us some badly needed family time anyway.”
“Until you get there,” Avery said, winking at me. “Then I imagine you’ll be a bit too distracted.”
Heat crept up my neck and I ducked my head over my notebook as I scribbled a bunch of squiggles.
“Well, I’m glad,” Avery said. “I know it’ll all work out.” She turned to face the student council and cleared her throat. “All right, everyone, listen up! We’ve got a lot of work to do and not much time to do it.”