So . . . she was going to make a deal with herself. No rash decisions. Actually, no decisions on the fly at all. She knew some might call this deal something else. Say, avoidance. But she’d thought it through carefully, and it was definitely the best way to avoid future mistakes and screwups. She didn’t need any more of those in her life.
Even better, it would protect the people she cared about. Like her moms. No one’s life would be disturbed by any bad decisions or choices she made. No one’s emotions would be at risk. The deal allowed everyone, including herself, to continue walking down their chosen path, without interference or distraction.
Theoretically, following this plan would be easy. After all, the basis of it was a lack of action. There was nothing difficult in taking no action, in not involving her heartstrings or tugging on anyone else’s. Sure, sometimes she’d have to walk away when she wanted to step closer. Sometimes she’d have to make a lighthearted remark when she wanted to reveal her soul. But all she had to do was hold her heart captive instead of letting it lead her on wild goose chases. No more freeing it into someone else’s hands.
It was the right thing to do, for all involved.
Having committed to this deal, having convinced herself this was the only way to go, she came home from her pity party, aka carb-loading.
Her moms were waiting. They knew the value of working as a team. They’d spent the day trying to follow along with her everywhere she went, constantly shoving food at her, continuously asking how she was doing with twin worried looks on their faces.
So she’d asked them very nicely to give her a few hours. But those hours were apparently up.
“Please tell us what happened to you in Long Beach,” Raina said.
They meant well, and she understood she was their whole life. She also loved them more than anything, but if she didn’t find a way to get out of this house, she was going to die here.
Which—not for the first time, or even the hundredth—brought her thoughts back to Eli. To what she knew about him, which admittedly wasn’t much. Back then, he’d been funny and easygoing, and not in the least bit shy. Lean to the point of too skinny, as well as asthmatic, he’d still managed to hold his own with the other boys and somehow also seem older than all of them.
In sharp contrast, Brynn had been a quirky, awkward kid, not funny, not easygoing, and terribly shy. She hadn’t exactly fit in, and the kids hadn’t liked her because of that.
Eli, in spite of being BFFs with the meanest of the mean girls, had been nice to Brynn.
And on one memorable occasion, more than nice—because sometimes a girl needed someone to help her try new things. She’d been fourteen and dying to know what it felt like to kiss a boy. She wanted to make sure she knew what to do when the time came.
So she’d scrounged up enough courage to ask, and Eli had been more than willing to make a summer camp deal with her. A single kiss, no expectations.
She could still remember how nervous she’d been, but Eli had just stood there quietly against the cabin in the woods, letting her take the lead. She’d gone up on tiptoe to kiss him. His lips had been warm and soft, and he’d tasted like the chocolate chip cookies he’d had for snack that day, and smelled like sunshine and lake and cute boy. He’d closed his eyes, and his eyelashes had been longer than hers. She’d never even noticed that boys had eyelashes before.
It had been the only time she’d ever been happy at summer camp, and when she’d dropped down from her tiptoes and stared at him, he’d grinned.
She’d pulled a typical Brynn Turner and run like the wind.
They’d never spoken of it.
Just as well. He’d been tight with a group headed by Kinsey, the one who’d single-handedly ruined camp for Brynn for a lot of years. In her eyes, his affiliation with Kinsey had put him in the Mean Kids Club. But he was an adult now, and he’d treated her moms with a patient kindness that was hard to fake.
That went a long way with her.
As would having a neutral place to live. Not with a boyfriend, not with her moms.
But on her own for the first time in her life.
Well, relatively on her own anyway. At Eli’s, she’d have roommates. But no emotional ties, she reminded herself, and she felt like she needed that. She needed to find herself, needed to learn to trust herself and figure out who the hell she was.
It was a big decision, and she’d just made that deal with herself—no rash decisions. Think about it, he’d suggested. And that was exactly what she planned to do.
On the couch, she patted the cushions for her moms to sit as well, and took a deep breath.
“It’s okay,” Olive said. “Whatever it is, baby, it’s going to be okay.”
Raina nodded. The two of them were holding hands, watching Brynn with love and acceptance.
Which was a big part of what made this hard. On the outside, she was relieved to have them on her side, loving and nurturing her whenever she needed it. But on the inside, she still didn’t feel like she deserved it.
“And there are no wrong answers here,” Raina assured her. “We just want to know what we can do to help. You’re holding stuff in, and it’s not healthy. Plus, there’s no need. There’s no judgment here, you know that. Not ever.”
That was the thing. She deserved judgment on this.
“It’s just us here,” Olive said. “Tell us what happened, why you’re here, and what your plans are, and how we can help.”
“Also, we love you,” Raina said, giving Olive some side-eye.
Olive gave her a look right back. “That part was implied.”
“But sometimes people need the words,” Raina said.
Olive sighed. “I love you, Raina. And I love you, Brynn. There. Now can we get to what’s going on?”
“Okay, okay,” Brynn said, wanting to stop them before they could get traction on a fight. “I went to the school district office today and got a substitute teaching job. There’s a long-term sub needed at the elementary school for a kindergarten class.” She tried not to grimace at the “kindergarten” part. “It’s a year-round system, and I’ll be working there starting Monday.”
Both of her moms smiled in surprise. Raina was a high school English teacher. Olive was a professor at the city college. Teaching ran in their blood.
“That’s wonderful,” Olive said. “We’re so proud of you, but we could’ve put in a good word for you at the district and smoothed the way.”
“Thanks, and I know, but I wanted to do this on my own.” Needed to. “Also, there’s some not-great news too.” She took off her glasses, swiped them on the hem of her shirt, and put them back on. “You already know that Ashton and I broke up. But what you don’t know is that the apartment was in his name and he gave notice. Months ago.” She left off the part about how he’d not told her he’d done that. He’d emptied their bank account, run up her credit card, and vanished, also skipping out on the last two months of rent that he’d told her he’d paid. When she’d come home from work, she’d found herself locked out. She’d tried to talk to the landlord. He’d told her that Ashton had given three months’ advance notice, and then moved out earlier in the day.
While she’d been at work at her substitute teaching job.