No Place Like Homecoming Page 8

  Because if it had been…

  Well, then I’d have a problem, wouldn’t I?

  My phone rang, and I put it on speaker.

  “Oh, Flynn, I’m so glad you picked up,” my mom said. “We weren’t sure if you’d be off work yet.”

  I heard my little brother Ethan in the background, shouting something unintelligible, and the youngest, Marco, screamed over him.

  “They miss you,” my mother translated.

  “Really? Because I’m pretty sure he just said something about Fortnite.”

  My mom snickered. “That’s his way of saying he misses you.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, okay.”

  “How’s the packing going?”

  “Not bad.” She’d brought all the essentials with them when they’d left, and I’d sold off most of the furniture. “The rest should all fit in my car.”

  “About that…” Her voice got all hesitant. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “If I don’t, who else will?” I hated the edge to my voice, and I tried to soften it as I added, “Besides, where would I live if our house is gone?”

  She didn’t answer, but I could practically hear her sadness. All she’d ever wanted was to watch me cross a stage in a cap and gown. It had been tough to explain to her that while a fancy graduation was all fine and good, a diploma was a diploma, and I’d get that one way or the other.

  “Are you sure about this, Flynn?”

  I took a deep breath and just barely held back a sigh. This was how conversations always ended between my mom and me. Even before Dad left, I’d felt like the parent in our household. Ultimately, I ended up making the tough calls, and this one I’d already made.

  No amount of well-intentioned friends were going to make me change my mind.

  And a self-absorbed new girl who was only nice to me when she wanted something?

  There was no way she was going to steer me off the path I’d chosen.

  “Yeah, Mom. I’m sure.”

  Ten

  Isla

  I looked down at the garish red slippers on my feet with a frown.

  “You ready, kid?” my aunt called through the door of the guest bedroom.

  Now my bedroom, I supposed.

  Dread filled my belly as I caught sight of the ridiculous braids in the mirror. I was stuck here. I’d never make enough money to pay for a flight back to New York in time for homecoming, and even if I did—would I still have a date?

  I hadn’t heard from Logan since our video chat, during which he’d told me basically nothing. No promises had been made. No words of encouragement or of how much he’d missed me.

  The photo Taylor had sent had said way more than Logan ever had. I waited for a pang of pain at the memory of that photo.

  No pang came. I stared down at the ugly dress. It wasn’t like we’d been in a commitment. It wasn’t like he’d done anything wrong.

  He hadn’t broken any promises, and he definitely hadn’t broken my heart. He’d just...forgotten about me, that was all.

  I’d been forgotten.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and then opened them to glance over at my phone. My mom was supposed to call this morning.

  She hadn’t.

  Not that it mattered or anything. Dad never called so it wasn’t like I’d thought he’d make an exception today. Taylor had sent me a few more drunken texts last night from that party. Mostly giving me the lowdown on every girl Logan talked to and for how long.

  No more pictures had been sent, at least.

  But I’d had this sick feeling as I fell asleep that Taylor had been finding it all way more entertaining than she ought.

  Like, despite the frowny face emoji, she’d been enjoying the fact that I’d lost my shot with my dream guy.

  Another knock at my door and then there was Aunt Lucy’s exasperated sigh.

  I was becoming very familiar with that sigh.

  “You don’t want to be late on your first day of work, do you?”

  I didn’t want to work at all. I eyed my reflection and bit the inside of my cheek to keep from crying.

  How had this happened? How had I fallen so low?

  I was wearing gingham, for crying out loud. I was wearing white ankle socks that even a twelve year old wouldn’t be caught dead in. “What has become of my life?” I whispered to my reflection.

  “I leave in two minutes, with or without you,” my aunt shouted.

  The party would be starting up any minute now, and Flynn was probably there already, helping to set up the catering station. Then he’d be in charge of photographing my humiliation for posterity.

  Neat.

  I’d probably see him when I walked out there to do my part in this stupid little skit. I’d see the guy who’d kissed me like he’d meant it. The guy who’d looked at me like he saw...more. Right before he’d walked away from me in disgust.

  I winced. Understandably. I should have asked him about the ride first. I should have explained before he’d heard it from one of the girls. I should have focused on what I’d wanted from him rather than get distracted.

  And I had been distracted in a big way. Even before he’d kissed me, my head had been spinning. My heart had been pounding and I’d felt this...tug. Like there’d been some invisible rope between us that pulled me toward him. And then he’d leaned in close and there was nothing else. There was no one but him.

  I’d even forgotten all about Logan.

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. I blamed Logan. That picture of him and the other girl...was it any wonder I’d lost my mind and gone off-script? He wasn’t supposed to find out about my need to get home from Callie and the others. That was how this all went wrong.

  I’d had a plan. The plan had involved making Flynn like me, and then asking him for a ride. Flirting had always been part of the plan. I mean, how else was I supposed to get a guy to like me?

  Had I come on a little strong?

  Maybe.

  Okay, yes. Definitely. But it wasn’t like I had time to spare here, now was it? If I couldn’t get him to take me with him on his road trip, that was it. I was out of options. I might as well write off my life right here and now.

  And judging by the way he’d stormed off, his answer was a big fat no.

  I took a deep breath, met my own gaze in the mirror with a glare and ordered myself to pull it together. “Suck it up, buttercup,” I hissed. Then I grabbed my stupid wicker basket prop and marched out the door—

  And straight into my Aunt Lucy.

  My Aunt Lucy who took one look at me and burst out laughing.

  Awesome. Because I’d thought this day just couldn’t get any worse, but I’d been wrong. Being laughed at by the least fashionable boomer on the planet now set a new bar for how low I could go.

  “We’re going to be late,” I muttered as I strode past her, my ruby slippers clattering on the floor because even with the stuffing, they didn’t stay on right. I beat her to the car and got in before anyone could see me.

  Not like that would help matter when I got to the party. But at least I’d never see these people ever again, right? At least, once this was all over, I could find a way to get home and…

  And what?

  Beg my parents to let me stay? I chewed on my lower lip and Aunt Lucy got behind the wheel and started the car. “Have you heard from my mom lately?”

  “Mmm,” she said, her tone already vague like she wasn’t sure she wanted to answer. “I talked to her this morning.”

  “You did? She didn’t call me.” Why I made this sound like an accusation, I didn’t even know. It was habit.

  She shot me a sidelong look I couldn’t read.

  “Well?” I said.

  “Well what?”

  “What did she say?” I half turned to face my aunt as much as my seat belt would allow. “Are they ready to bring me home?”

  The next sidelong look was much easier to interpret and it had me whipping back around to stare straight ahead so I didn’t have
to see it.

  I didn’t need her pity. I didn’t need anyone’s pity, least of all hers.

  As if her life was all that great.

  “She didn’t say much,” Aunt Lucy finally answered.

  “But she had to have said something,” I said.

  She gave a little huff of amusement. “Your mother has a serious talent for talking a lot and saying nothing.”

  I glanced over at my aunt’s profile. I wasn’t about to admit it, but I knew exactly what she meant. My mom had missed her calling as a diplomat. She could fill a room with smiles and chatter, all of which amounted to a whole lot of hot air. Smoke and mirrors, my dad used to say. Your mother is all about smoke and mirrors.

  “What was she like when she used to visit you?” I asked.

  Aunt Lucy didn’t seem surprised that I knew my mom used to visit. “A lot like you.”

  I narrowed my eyes at my aunt. That felt like an insult.

  She lifted one hand from the steering wheel to wave it. “She was always looking for bigger and better. Always focused on the wrong thing.”

  And there it was. The criticism I’d known was coming.

  “Your mother believed that if it glittered, it was gold. If someone smiled, they were happy. If someone looked like they had the perfect life, their life must be perfect.” She gave another huff of bitter amusement. “Don't get me wrong, your mother could be smart. But she chose to be foolish.”

  I let her words settle over me as I looked out the window, watching as the houses seemed to grow in size the closer we got to the nice side of town. “I don’t think anyone chooses to be foolish,” I said.

  She shrugged as if that was my prerogative.

  We pulled up to a house that was gargantuan and garish. Well, that wasn’t fair. It was actually kind of beautiful in an over-the-top sort of way. I mean, the Garners’ house had a turret so, you know...conceited much? Apparently they considered themselves royalty even if no one else did.

  But the real monstrosity was the party setup taking place before my eyes.

  I winced in the face of all the streamers and balloons. “How old are these kids, anyway?”

  “Too old for this nonsense,” my aunt muttered.

  I shot her a smile and for half a second I forgot I wasn’t supposed to like her. There were moments, like this one, when her cranky mood made me feel sort of...comfortable. Not at home, necessarily, but I far preferred her gruff honesty to the bright smiles and chipper cheeriness of the nannies and babysitters I’d grown up with.

  I liked that she didn’t try to make me feel better about being stranded in hell.

  “Look, kid…” It was the way she hesitated that made me freeze.

  That knot in my belly was back in full force with those two words of warning. She might as well have said ‘we need to talk.’

  “There’s been something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about,” she continued.

  I sank back in my seat as my stomach fell. And there it was. I knew the signs of bad news coming. My body instantly went into crisis mode, which was so not helpful.

  I needed to be cool and calm if I was going to convince Flynn he wanted to help me. If I stood a chance of winning him over I couldn’t be all desperate and needy like I had been last night.

  Trying too hard was the ultimate buzzkill. It was a surefire way to kill any attraction dead in its tracks.

  I knew this but I’d been stupid. Careless.

  And then he’d kissed me and I forgot to think at all.

  I flexed my fingers, trying to calm the anxiety building in my muscles, adding a dose of toxic venom to my bloodstream. “Can this wait?” My voice was all bratty impatience.

  All the better. Maybe I’d annoy her into letting this go.

  “No,” she snapped. “I should have talked to you earlier in the week, but after my conversation with your mother this morning…” She trailed off with a sigh as she leaned forward to peer past me. “Mrs. Messner’s van isn’t even here yet. You have time to kill.”

  Time I could have been using to flirt with Flynn. I winced at the memory of his face when he’d called me out for flirting with him just to get something.

  So maybe I wouldn’t flirt with Flynn, but I could talk to him. Make this right. He needed money, and I needed a ride. Surely we could find some middle ground.

  The point was, I didn’t have time to sit here for a motherly lecture from a woman I barely knew.

  “Look, I’m just gonna give it to you straight, all right?” she started.

  As if I had a choice in the matter.

  She gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. “I know you’re holding out hope that your parents will send for you.”

  I tensed as her tone gentled. “It’s not gonna happen, kid. You’re not going back anytime soon.”

  Remember what I’d said about liking this woman? I took it back. I took it all back.

  I reached for the door like I hadn’t heard a word. My ears were buzzing, my head was spinning. My stomach heaved. But there was no way I’d let her see how much her words got to me.

  She didn’t know me. She didn’t know my life.

  I had no clue what my mom said to her to bring this on, but it didn’t matter.

  “Whatever.” I said. “We’ll see.”

  “No.” Her voice was harsh with frustration. “There’s no ‘we’ll see,’ Isla, that’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

  I froze with my hand on the door.

  “Look, kid—Isla,” she corrected herself. “Your parents love you—”

  “Stop.” I turned back to glare at her. “Just stop. Do you know how many people have told me that? Do you have any idea how pathetic I feel when people like you feel the need to tell me that?”

  Her eyes widened in alarm.

  Probably because my voice got all weird and wobbly. Stupid voice.

  Freakin’ anxiety.

  I swallowed and flexed my hands again. If only I had access to the little blue pills my mom kept in her nightstand. They were the only thing that ever made me feel better when I got like this.

  “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I wasn’t trying to be condescending. It’s just...there’s more going on than you know, and it’s not my place to tell you.”

  “Like what?” I shot back. “Dad’s work is crazy? It’s always nuts. My mom’s social life is too full to handle having a kid around? Well, she’s in luck because I haven’t been a kid in a long time—”

  “Could have fooled me.” My aunt’s caustic tone had me tensing.

  “What?”

  She sighed and rubbed her eyes wearily. “Sorry, that came out wrong. I’m trying to be nice here.”

  I gave a huff of impatience. That’s how it sounded, at least. Really I’d just needed to breathe. This car was too small and the conversation was choking the life out of me. “Don’t be nice. I like it when you give it to me straight.” I half turned to face her. “Say what you want to say and let’s get this heart-to-heart over with, yeah?”

  She blew out a harsh breath that had her too-long bangs fluttering again. Would someone get this woman a haircut already? “I know you’ve gotten the crappy end of this stick, all right? I’m guessing this isn’t the first time they’ve…”

  “Forgotten about me?” I filled in the blanks for her.

  “They didn’t forget.” She trailed off in the face of my glare. “You’re not a bad kid, Isla, but it’s time you realized it’s not always about you. Not everything is about you.”

  I stared at her for a long moment. I wanted to scoff and shrug off the words, but they clung and they scalded. Something about her tone—the way there was no pity in it, and not even judgement—it made the words more insidious. It had them crawling inside of me and burrowing into my muscles.

  “I just want to get back to my life,” I said. “Is that so wrong?”

  “Was your life so perfect?” she shot back.

  No. Of course it wasn’t. I don’t have to
tell her that. But it was mine. And the only thing worse than losing my family and my friends and the only life I’ve ever known, was admitting that it went on without me. That no one missed me when I was gone.

  That maybe I didn’t matter to anyone at all.

  “What is it that you’re so eager to get back to?” she asked.

  I opened my mouth and shut it. She wouldn’t understand. “It’s my life, Aunt Lucy.”

  “No, Isla, it wasn’t. That was where you lived and went to school. Sure, you had people there who you’ll miss, people who’ll miss you...”

  I turned away before she could see me flinch.

  “But that doesn’t mean it’s your whole life. Your life is wherever you are. Your life is what you make it.”

  My lungs were underwater. I couldn’t breathe as I reached for the door. “Your life is what you make it?” I shook my head as I opened it and slid out. “Did you read that on a fortune cookie?”

  “Kid, come back,” she called after me.

  But I shut the door before she could say any more. I couldn’t sit there and listen, and I definitely couldn’t talk anymore.

  Eleven

  Isla

  Only one thought kept ringing in my head as I walked away from Aunt Lucy’s car.

  They didn’t want me back. My mom had talked to her and they didn’t want me back. The lawn seemed to tilt under my feet as I lurched forward.

  Crap.

  Crap, crap, crap.

  This was so not what I needed. I was supposed to be cool. I was supposed to be charming. I was supposed to be the opposite of desperate when I saw Flynn again and tried to explain. And instead I was striding toward the Garners’ castle feeling for all the world like my insides were trying to get out. My throat was too tight, my muscles were too tense. My body was hot and cold all at once. But the worst was my lungs.

  They weren’t getting air. Well, they were. Technically, my lungs were working. I could feel them pumping away, but there was no oxygen in this air. I tugged at the stupid Peter Pan collar of this dress and tried to gulp in deep breaths.