The interruption shook me from my curiosity, and I sprinted toward the exit. The chilly December wind slapped my cheeks the second I burst through the doors and scanned the parking lot. Trevor's old gray Explorer idled next to the curb, and he shot me an annoyed look when I popped open the door.
"Sorry. My teacher had to talk to me." I tossed my bag into the backseat and hopped onto the worn cloth seat. My nose wrinkled at the stale scent of fast food coming from the crumpled bags that littered the floorboard as I kicked them away.
"Already in trouble?" he asked and I scoffed.
"Yep, that's me. The rebel." Not even close. I was a rule follower by nature, and the idea of stirring up trouble was like a bitter pill on my tongue. I shut the stiff door and latched my seat belt.
My brother didn't need to know about my other distraction.
Rook. My thoughts, preoccupied by him, were confusing.
Trevor shook his head full of dark strands—a complete contrast to my golden ones—and glanced at me with eyes a darker shade of blue than mine. "I can't wait until you get your own driver’s license."
"Somewhere else to be?" I asked as he pulled away from the school.
He shrugged. "Some guys invited me to come hang out."
I should have known his first day of school would have gone much better than mine. A small tendril of envy wound in my gut. Trevor had been popular back home too, and being five years older than me, we didn’t have a lot in common. "I can ride the bus from now on."
He snorted. "Mom would kill me, and you know it."
Trevor was probably right, but my life had become a pile of rubble. The last thing I needed was to feel like an inconvenience.
My brother had also had the rug ripped from beneath him, I reminded myself. He was likely dealing with things in his own way, so I shouldn't take it personally.
It was hard though. I stared out the window, watching as the neighborhoods of my new town zipped by. I needed someone around who made me feel normal again.
Two
Noah
On Friday, a week after we’d moved in, I swayed on the wooden swing hung from our front porch. Bundled in my thick puffer coat, I soaked in the heat warming my hands from the mug filled with hot chocolate, mini-marshmallows swimming on top.
The temperature had dropped now that the sun had dipped over the horizon, and the tip of my nose stung from the cold breeze carrying the scent of pine trees that heavily dotted the town. The street was quiet, peppered with random dog barks piercing the night. Most of the town would be crowding the stands at the varsity football game.
Had I been back in Sapling, I'd be surrounded by my friends, playing laser tag or dropping coins in the arcade at an alarming pace. My parents said the split was mutual, but why then did he get to stay at our home while we moved to Nowhere, Texas? Why hadn’t I heard a single word from him since we’d left?
But even if I’d been able to go back to my hometown, I wouldn’t. I didn't want to see my friends either. How normal and unchanged their lives were. Trevor said lots of parents get divorced and that I'd get over it when I was ready. I wasn't so sure. My dad had been everything to me, and now our relationship was tainted by an ugly stain of betrayal.
I let out a shuddering sigh, watching as my breath puffed in a cloud of mist.
"Happy birthday to me," I muttered as I eyed the tangle of sad blue and white balloons securely tied to the mailbox as it had been for the last two hours. Now they were only visible by the glow of a street lamp.
Guilt gnawed at my stomach. My mom had been excited when she'd hung them. They matched the decorations in the house—a banner that stretched across the fireplace mantle that read Happy 12th Birthday Noah with more balloons tied to chairs around the dining table. I hadn't had the heart to tell her no one was coming. She had no idea I hadn't made any friends.
The birthday party was more suited to a younger kid, or at least I thought so. Especially if we factored in the cake my mom had baked herself that chilled in the refrigerator with icing swirled in primary colors. Even my brother had bailed to attend the game, claiming he was too old for a kid's birthday party.
Honestly, he hadn't been home much since we arrived. And because I'd known him my whole life, I knew he was purposely avoiding the house. Despite what he said about our parents’ divorce, I wondered if he wasn't hanging onto a sliver of denial. He'd graduate this year, so no matter where we lived, he'd head off to college next summer.
The screened door creaked open, interrupting my thoughts, and I glanced up. My mom leaned against the doorframe. Her long brown hair, the same color as Trevor's, cascaded over her shoulders. Dressed in a heavy sweater, she hugged her stomach. "Aren't you cold?"
Holding my steaming cup up, I shook my head. "I'm okay."
She shivered as she stepped out onto the porch. "Honey, I think you might have been right. Maybe we should have waited until tomorrow."
I shrugged as she crossed the porch and gingerly took the space beside me. "It's fine. More cake for me."
Her chuckle was soft, but a sad note laced her tone. "I guess I underestimated the power of Friday night football."
"It's like a religion or something out here. It's all everyone talks about at school." I let her believe that was the reason no one had shown up. Telling a white lie about making new friends made me uncomfortable, but she was going through too much already. I didn't want to add to the stress etched in the features of her heart-shaped face.
My mom nudged my knee with hers, and I glanced at her. "Someone could show up after the game."
I attempted to smile but only managed a slight tilt of my lips. "I doubt—"
"Oh," she interrupted while looking toward the road.
Following her gaze, I spotted a kid jogging along the sidewalk dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants.
"Hi!" My mom’s voice pierced the quiet, and the startling sound caused him to stumble. He barely caught himself before he ate a face full of pavement. I groaned as she stood abruptly, causing the liquid in my cup to almost spill in my lap. "You're here for the party, right?"
"Kill me now," I muttered under my breath.
The guy lifted his head, his face lit by the streetlamp, searching until he saw my mom waving like crazy. Recognition slapped me in the face, and I prayed for a swift death.
Rook Oliveira, of all people, froze in front of my house. He frowned and then his gaze flicked up to the balloons. He squinted toward us, and my cheeks flushed hot.
Eff my effing life. I wanted to crawl into a hole. A dark suffocating one that I'd never come out of. My thoughts were growing more morbid by the second.
My mom's voice wavered. "You are here for Noah's birthday, right?"
Rook glanced at me. Or more like stared.
Cue the most embarrassing moment in my life in five, four, three, two—
"Yeah. Uh, hey, Noah." Rook freaking Oliveira was making his way up our driveway lined with scraggly bushes. He climbed the steps and smiled as if showing up had been his plan all along.
We both knew that was a lie.
"Hi, Rook," I mumbled as I placed my drink on the glass side table.