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Chapter 1
Ella
I’m pretty sure my bedroom has more items
in it than the rest of the house combined. And that’s a little ironic because
up until last weekend, my room consisted of an air mattress, a dozen outfits in
the closet, and a gorgeous antique makeup vanity I got for ten bucks at a
garage sale. Now, I can barely see the faded carpeting over the boxes and
shopping bags of crap. I mean, it’s not crap—it’s cool stuff—but I am
overflowing with guilt that it’s all been bought for me.
Mom shuffles into my room, carrying a
purple fabric laundry basket that’s filled with purple towels, purple
washcloths, a purple shower caddy and purple flip flops for wearing to the communal
shower. I’m not a fan of the idea of showering while wearing shoes, but she’d
told me more than once that dorm showers are germ factories and that my dad had
once suffered a case of athlete’s foot and it was disgusting.
She sets it all on the floor in front of
her and then puts her hands on her hips, appraising my room of junk with a
pleased smile. “Perfect. I think that’s everything.”
“You know, just because purple is my
favorite color doesn’t mean everything has to be purple,” I say, picking up a
package of purple plastic utensils.
“That’s in case the cafeteria runs out of
silverware,” Mom says.
I roll my eyes. But she’s trying so hard,
and I can tell she’s so excited to be buying me all this unnecessary crap with
money we don’t exactly have. I put on a smile because I am grateful, it’s just a little too much to take in right now.
“Thank you, Mom,” I say, standing up from
my air mattress and stepping carefully around all the shopping bags to give her
a hug. “I am all set for college now.”
“You are, but I’m not,” she says over my
shoulder as she squeezes me tightly. These hugs have been more frequent after
the tornado swept through town and took our house with it. My parents and I all
got hit with the realization that we could be gone at any moment. It’s scary,
being aware of your own mortality, and I’m happy for the hugs.
“My baby,” Mom says, pulling away and
holding me at arm’s length. The fine wrinkles in the corners of her eyes seem a
little deeper every time I see her. She’s still wearing her scrubs from her nursing
shift that ended several hours ago. After Mom lost all her clothes in the
tornado, she’s only replaced the scrubs. Now she wears them all the time, even
if she’s not at work. She smiles at me, and I watch those eye wrinkles fold
together. “My baby is all grown up. Going off to college…” She exhales and
pulls me in for another hug. “I’m so proud of you.”
The moment is bittersweet. I’m definitely
happy that I’m going to college, especially after we lost everything we had and
I didn’t know if it would be affordable or not. Then I applied to my dream
school, the Hilltop School of Culinary Arts, and my essay on what it was like
to survive a tornado but lose everything won me a full scholarship. Room and
board and everything. I about died when I opened the letter. I am so
unbelievably thrilled to go to my dream school and learn the skills I’ll need
to open my own cupcake shop one day, but all that excitement comes with just as
much worry.
The college is three hours away in a small
town south of Dallas, and that’s three long hours away from my home. We finally
moved out of the Poe’s house and into our own rental home, but my parents are
more stressed than ever now. While we used to own our old house, this one is
just being rented. On a nurse and paramedic’s salary, they can’t afford to pay
rent and also save up to buy our own new house someday. The land from where our
old house was is still for sale, but no one has bought it yet. Apparently
people don’t care to build a new house on a street with houses that were all
built twenty years ago. When it does sell, my parents might have enough for the
down payment on a new house, but until then, we’re just stuck in this tiny,
old, dingy, overpriced rental.
We have filled the house with some
furniture, just not much. The living room is the most put together, with a used
couch and a new TV and a gorgeous rug Mom and I found on clearance on
Overstock.com. My parents got a bed for their room for cheap from a friend, but
I insisted that the air mattress was fine for me. I don’t want them spending
any unnecessary money on me, especially since I’m going to college soon. My frugal
ways only lasted a few months, because now that I have a free dorm room, my mom
has gone a little crazy buying me stuff to fill it with. But I know it makes
her happy, so I’m trying to be grateful and not annoyed.
Mom helps me take all the dorm stuff out of
the boxes and shrink wrap and we pack it tightly into plastic containers, consolidating
it as much as possible for the trip to my dorm. I start college in just nine
days. This is officially the last week of my summer as a carefree teenager.
Soon I’ll be a college student, and then, hopefully, an adult with her own
cupcake shop.
It’s bittersweet thinking about these last
few days of freedom before class starts. I’ve had eighteen years of living with
my parents, going to public school and hanging out with friends at home. Now
it’s all about to change.
###
Ethan greets me at his front door with a
smile that turns into a yawn. “Hi babe,” he says, but the words are all muffled
as he covers his mouth with his fist. He pulls me to him for a hug, and I wrap
my arms around his bare chest. He’s wearing black basketball shorts with black
boxers peeking out at the waistline, and that’s all it takes to make my stomach
flutter. His hair dark hair is all ruffled, and his eyes are still sleepy. It’s
eleven in the morning, but my boyfriend has clearly just woken up. I let my
eyes wander over his sculpted chest, which has gotten even better since we
graduated high school two and a half months ago. With all the free time of
summer, Ethan’s been working out more than usual. I wish I looked this sexy
after rolling out of bed.
“Done shopping?” he says, stepping back to
let me inside.
“God, I hope so.”
He chuckles. “What’s wrong with shopping?”
“You know my mom … she’s so excited about
my dorm room and I think maybe she’s trying to make up for how broke we’ve been
by buying me stuff I don’t need.” I let out a sigh.
Mrs. Poe walks into the living room looking
all put together just like always. “Ella, she just loves you, that’s all,” she
says, giving me a wink. “Let her go crazy buying you stuff. Moms like that kind
of thing.”
I have no doubt she knows what she’s talking
about, since she and my mom are good friends. I smile in reply and she smiles
back. “Would you like a green smoothie, dear? I’m making myself one now.”
“No, thanks,” I say brightly, instead of
gagging and curling my lip in disgust like I want to. “I just ate, so I’m
full.”
It’s a lie, but if Mrs. Poe thinks you’re
even a little bit hungry, she’ll try to give you something heathy to eat.
Health food is her favorite thing, right after her family and reality shows on
TLC.
“Okay,” she says, her thousand-watt smile
lighting up the living room. “Ethan, put on a shirt,” she adds, giving her son
a scolding look. “We have company.”
“Ella’s not company,” he says, throwing an
arm around my shoulders. “Plus, she’s seen it all before so—”
“Ethan!” I snap, but it’s too late. My
cheeks are warming more with each passing second. Luckily, my embarrassing
boyfriend’s mom just rolls her eyes and heads back into the kitchen.
Ethan keeps his arm around me until we get
to the stairs, where it’s too hard to stay snuggled together and ascend at the
same time, especially since his strong athlete’s body tends to glide up the
stairs two at a time, and I step on each one because I’m way shorter and in way
worse shape than he is.
“Where’s Dakota?” I ask as we pass her
empty bedroom. Ethan’s little sister is a freshman now, and she’s been grilling
me on all things high school, from what to wear, to where to sit, to which
teachers are cool and which ones suck. Now that I spend so much time here, I
consider her like my little sister, too.
“At her friend’s house,” Ethan says. “She
said something about planning their outfits for the first week of school.” He
snorts.
In Ethan’s bedroom, I plop down on his bed
and spread out my arms and legs and close my eyes, breathing in deeply. I
wiggle my arms like I’m making a snow angel.
“It’s this some kind of mating ritual?”
Ethan asks. I open my eyes and he’s standing next to the bed, looking over me.
“Because it’s weird, but I’m down.”
I roll my eyes and kick at him with my
foot. “No, I’m just enjoying your amazing mattress that’s on a bed frame that’s
not a squeaky air mattress on the floor.”
“Damn,” he says, faking disappointment,
even though he knows I won’t do anything intimate while his mom is downstairs. He
leans over and kisses me, then he walks to his computer desk and turns his
attention to his graphics pad.
I continue to enjoy the feeling of Ethan’s
plush mattress as I look over at him. “Didn’t you buy that fancy computer that
you can write on?” I ask. “Why are you still using the graphics pad?”
The device is several years old and looks
like a piece of plastic with a stylus attached to it. He uses it to draw his
T-shirt designs. The images he draws on the graphics pad appear on the computer
as a graphic, but it’s not as fancy as the new laptop he just bought. It’s the
kind that has the screen that swivels around and you can draw on it or lift it
up and turn it back into a laptop shape.
He shrugs. “I like keeping it old school.”
His tongue curls slightly over his upper lip while he works, and I watch his
computer screen transform as he draws the design. It looks like a cartoon
dinosaur. I’m sure it’ll have a funny caption to go with it by the time he’s
finished. Ethan has been running his own T-shirt company for the last few
years. He designs custom shirts and sells them through a website that prints
and mails the shirts to his customers. He’s a good artist, which is kind of the
opposite of what you’d expect from a football player. Ethan’s dad wanted him to
play college ball, but he doesn’t want to go to college at all. The last time
we talked about it, he’d said he was considering going to community college to
get a degree in business or something that will help him grow his online store.
His parents are kind of pissed about it because they don’t want him to “throw
his life away.” (their words, not mine.) They’ve spent all summer telling him
to look into college more and to apply at the local community college before
it’s too late. Ethan says he’s taking a gap year and will figure out what to do
a year from now.
I’ve just kept quiet about the whole thing.
Ethan and I have only been dating a few months, and being his girlfriend is
like a dream come true after having spent pretty much all of my life crushing
on him. So even though I kind of agree with his parents and think he should at
least try college before giving up on the idea, I keep my mouth shut. I’m a
cool, fun, girlfriend, not a nagging one.
Besides, we’re going to have a lot more
problems once school starts and I’m living three hours away. I shake my head,
wishing I could shove those thoughts away forever. Instead, I change the
subject.
“Any luck on the apartment search?”
“A little,” Ethan says. He shades in some
areas on his drawing and then looks at the computer to see how it’s turning
out. “I didn’t think finding my own place would be so difficult. I definitely
want a place with a pool and weight room and most complexes only have one or
the other.”
My heart tightens a little. Now that
Ethan’s business has been earning him a ton of money, he’s been talking about
moving out on his own. Having his own apartment will be great when I come home
from college, because we can have all the privacy we want.
But the downsides seem to stack up way
higher than that one benefit. I’ll be gone off to college. Hours away. My
schedule packed with classes.
And Ethan will be here, in our hometown in
his own apartment, with all the free time in the world.
I swallow, and glance around this bedroom
that’s belonged to Ethan for his whole life. Once again, I’m wondering how the
hell this new relationship of ours will survive when we are separated by a
hundred and fifty miles. What’s worse, is that ever since I got accepted to
Hilltop, Ethan and I haven’t had a single conversation about where we stand as
a couple. It’s like he doesn’t even care that I’m leaving.
It doesn’t matter how many times I shake my
head to clear it. These worries aren’t going anywhere anytime soon. And if we
don’t talk about it and figure something out, our relationship will be
finished. Leveled to the ground like my family’s empty lot next door.
Chapter 2
Ethan
One of the things I’ve learned about
business is that there is art and there is money, and sometimes the two things
don’t cross. Sometimes you can create the idea that’s in your mind and it turns
into something amazing, and people love it and they will pay you for it. That’s
the ultimate success right there. Making a career out of what you love doing.
But sometimes, it’s not about the art, but
the money. I sit back and look at my drawing, feeling like I’ve perfectly
nailed the cartoony look that my client was going for. The dinosaur, a T-rex,
is smiling and waving one of his little arms. I drew fun lettering for the
words “Mrs. Dinah’s Dinosaurs” and now the whole design is done. The great
thing about having a popular online store in your town is that many people buy
shirts from you just because they know you. I’m pretty sure every person of my
West Canyon High graduating class owns at least one of my shirts. The other
side to local popularity is that many people contract me to design specific
shirts for them, and I’m too nice to say no. I don’t really enjoy making these
T-shirt designs for the local elementary school, but I realize I’ll have to do
stuff like this if I want to keep my business growing and earning money. Right
now, I’m kind of all about the money and my creative art has to take a backseat.
It’s the only thing that supports my argument of skipping college in pursuit of
my business ventures. My parents have been on my ass like crazy about going to
college, and I’m just not feeling it.
I only charged fifty dollars for this
design, but it’s taken me all day since I kept setting it aside to hang out with
my girlfriend.
“Are you done?” Ella says, appearing behind
me. She’d been in my sister’s room a few minutes ago, and I guess I got so
caught up in last minute tweaks to my design that I didn’t hear her come in.
“Yep,” I say, rolling back in my computer
chair so she can see the finished product on my computer screen. “Does this
look like a second grader’s field day shirt?”
She grins. “No, it looks better than the
ones we used to have.”
“Damn right,” I say. I grab her hips and
pull her toward me, beckoning her to sit on my lap so that we’re eye to eye. “I
might get to design all of the elementary teacher’s shirts this year.”
Ella tucks her hair behind her ears then
rests her hands on my shoulders. “I thought you hated doing boring commission
jobs.”
I kiss her before answering. “I don’t hate them, they’re just boring. But I
need these jobs so I can buy new furniture and stuff.” I grin and wiggle my
eyebrows at her, but her smile fades a little.
“Right … your apartment.”
“Why are you saying it like that?”
She shrugs. “I’m not saying it weird. I’m
happy for you.”
She doesn’t seem that happy for me. I tuck
her hair behind her ears. “This apartment will be amazing. We’ll get all the
alone time we want.”
“Is that why you’re moving out?” she asks,
her eyebrow lifting skeptically. “So we can hook up more?”
The accusing tone of her voice puts me on
the defensive. She’s the reason I’m getting my own place, but it’s not like
that. Not at all. “Ella … What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she says, standing up. “I’m
going home for dinner. I just came in here to say goodbye.”
I want to ask her to ditch her parents and
stay with me longer, but I know that these dinners are important to her. Ella’s
parents both work in the medical field with long shifts and crazy hours. When
they all happen to be home at the same time, Ella likes having dinner with
them. She’s confided in me that ever since the tornado, she’s had the
occasional nightmare of that day turning out differently. Of finding her dad
dead, of her mother being sucked into a tornado while Ella watched. She doesn’t
want to miss any time with them, especially now that she’s about to go off to
college. So although I want to hold her tightly and beg her to stay because
something is clearly bothering her and I want to talk about it, I let her go.
“I’ll walk you outside,” I say.
The old Corolla she shares with her dad is
sitting in our driveway. It was her car before her dad’s truck was demolished.
Apparently they didn’t have full coverage insurance on it so they were shit out
of luck in getting a new one. I’ve done the math a few times, and I know I
could afford to buy Ella a new car and make the payments for her each month,
but I haven’t mentioned it. Ella is strong and independent and she wouldn’t
take a gift like that from me anyway.
I walk with her down my driveway and then I
open her car door for her. “Hey,” I say just before she climbs inside.
“Yeah?” she says, turning to me. There’s
something sad in her eyes, but I can’t figure out what. Things were fine
earlier. We went to the mall and stopped at a Starbucks and then played
foosball with Dakota for a while. This entire day was fine, and now she’s
acting weird.
I swallow back all of my thoughts because
there’s no point in bringing it all up right now when she has to leave. “I love
you,” I say instead of everything I’m feeling.
She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
“I love you, too.”
She gets in her car and I hover there in
the open door so she can’t close it yet. “Have a nice dinner,” I say. “Call me
later if you want.”
She nods. I step back and close her door,
then watch her start the engine and slowly back away. Just a few months ago,
she’d have walked through the grass to her house next door, but now she lives
all the way across town.
Once her headlights disappear, I turn
toward to the right and stare at the empty lot that used to have Ella’s house.
The contractors did a great job of removing every piece of debris, leaving only
a concrete slab where a house used to be. I think about where Ella’s bedroom
window used to be, about her front door, where I’d always go over there as a
kid, and then the years that passed when I’d pretend she didn’t live there because
I thought she hated me. Maybe I shouldn’t worry so much about Ella. She’s been
through a lot and she’s handled it really well. She’s stronger than I am,
that’s for sure.
My phone buzzes and I take it out of my
pocket to find a stupid weather alert. I slide it away without a second
thought. There’s a hurricane in the Gulf, but it’s headed toward Louisiana, not
Texas. Unlike that freak tornado last year, this storm isn’t my problem.
###
I’m half asleep in my bed, half watching a
Netflix marathon when my phone rings. The sound is so loud it makes me jump,
and I knock the phone to the floor. Blinking my eyes, I sit up and retrieve the
phone, which now has Ella’s beautiful face on it. I answer her call.
“Hey, beautiful.”
“Ethan,” she says. She sounds weird. Maybe
she’s tired. “Can you come over? Like, right now?”
I check the time, and it’s just after
eleven. “You asking for a booty call?” I say playfully.
She sighs.
Okay … clearly this isn’t a time for jokes.
I clear my throat. “Yeah babe, I’ll be right over.”
A funny thing happened when I turned
eighteen and graduated high school. My parents got really chill. I guess
because I’m a legal adult now, they just stopped putting rules on me. My dad
said it’s also because I’m a good kid, so he doesn’t worry. I know I can leave
the house right now without asking permission, but it still feels weird. I
guess I haven’t been an adult very long.
Dakota is still awake in her room, so I
tell her I’m headed to Ella’s.
“Gross,” she says. “I don’t need to know
about your sex life.”
I leave before she says anything else. As
far as I’m concerned, my fourteen year old sister doesn’t need to know a damn
thing about my sex life. Hell, I wish she didn’t even know what the word sex even meant.
My chest is tight with anxiety as I make
the twenty minute drive to Ella’s house. She sounded off, and although we have
a great relationship, I keep getting these awful thoughts like maybe she’s about
to break up with me. Maybe she’s met someone else. Maybe she thinks I’m just
holding her back since she’s about to go off to college. By the time I pull
into her driveway, I’ve worried myself into a panic.
I get out of my truck and close the door quietly
and then make my way toward the front of the house. I start to send her a text
to see if she wants me to knock or wait for her since her parents are probably
sleeping.
“Hey.”
I jump. Ella is standing right here, in the
darkness, waiting on me. “Shit,” I breathe. “I didn’t see you there.”
She grins. That’s good, right? It means
this isn’t a break up visit. “Sorry, I wanted some fresh air so I came out here
to wait for you.”
I want to kiss her but I’m still scared as
to what this meeting is about. “What’s going on?” I ask.
She throws her arms around me and buries
her face in my chest. “My mother.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. “What
happened?”
She looks up at me and shakes her head,
like she can’t believe whatever she’s about to say.
“My freaking mother … UGH!”
“Babe?” I say, leaning down to kiss her
cheek. “What is it?”
“So there’s that stupid hurricane that’s
hitting New Orleans,” she says. I nod for her to continue. “Mom just
volunteered to go work at their hospitals over there. I guess they’re expecting
a lot of hurt people or whatever, so they asked for nurse volunteers. And my
mom signed up!”
“Wow,” I say. I’m having trouble
understanding since my mind is still so relieved that this isn’t a break up
meeting. Ella still loves me. Things are good. But this isn’t about me right
now, it’s about her. “When does your mom leave?”
“Tomorrow,” she says, tossing her hands in
the air. “And Dad is going with her too. Can you believe this shit? They didn’t
learn their lesson from that tornado? They just want to rush out into harm’s
way to help people?”
I take both of her hands in mine. “Well,
babe, I think it’s kind of nice of them. Hospitals are built to withstand
hurricanes, so they’ll be okay if they’re inside.”
She huffs, her nostrils flaring. “I mean, I
know. I know you’re right, but … I’m just mad. I don’t want them to leave.”
“It’ll be okay,” I say, squeezing her
hands. “They’re doing a good thing. And you’ll be staying here, right?”
“Hell yes I am,” she says. “I want nothing
to do with any natural disasters.”
I smile and tilt her chin up, kissing her
softly. “You could probably come stay at my house while they’re gone,” I offer.
She gives me the first real smile I’ve seen
on her in days. “Or you could stay here.”
I slide my hands around her waist and pull
her tightly to me. I cannot describe how good it feels to know that everything
is okay with us. “Even better.”
