chapter six

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THE NEXT MORNING I wake up early to the sound of my alarm, having to get to the campus bookstore to pick up my textbooks before we leave for San Francisco at eleven. Stevie's turning eighteen this weekend, and the only thing she wants is to celebrate with us. I'm still not sure what she wants to do when she gets there, but it only makes sense that Greyson, Isla and I drive out together—that being the plan before I even moved in.

Except now things with him are tense and I don't know what to do about it. He's been quiet since I gave him the photo of Mia. Not that there was much of an opportunity for us to talk since then. He got home well after I had turned in for the night. Stevie had said he was never home, but I didn't take it seriously until now. She really meant he was never home.

Climbing out of bed, I make up my bed before getting ready, setting my duffle bag for our night in San Francisco on the bed, having packed it last night. I do my hair in the mirror above the dresser, painting my skin with just enough make-up to make myself feel better before changing into something comfortable for the long drive later in the day. Exhaling, I adjust the bandana tube top on my body and smooth out the triangle hem before grabbing my purse. My class list and requirements for books and supplies securely inside.

I half expect to find Greyson in the kitchen, the same way I had yesterday, but the apartment is quiet. He's most likely sleeping in, or worse, avoiding me, but I don't give myself much time to dwell on it before making my way down to my car. I'm so distracted on my drive to campus, that I barely register that my phone started ringing shortly after I parked.

A small part of me hopes it's Greyson, but I know better than that and answer with a small sigh when I see my mom's photo on the screen. "Hi Mom."

"Hi honey," she hums happily, overly cheerful as usual. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I tell her as I open the door to my car and climb out, grabbing my bag from the passenger seat as I go. "How are you?"

"I'm good," she says. "I just wanted to call and check in with you. You're heading to San Francisco today for Stevie's birthday, right?"

"Yeah, just after I get back from picking up my books for classes next week."

"You'll be safe, right? That's the furthest you've driven."

My lips curl up at her concern. "Yes, I'll be safe. I'm not even the one driving. I'm going down there with Isla and Stevie's brother, Greyson, remember?"

"That's the musician, right?" she asks. "She has too many. It's hard to keep track of."

A snicker falls from my lips. "She has three. Greyson and the twins."

"Okay, okay." She laughs. "So, not that many. Wish her a happy birthday for me, okay? And text me when you get there, please."

"I will," I tell her. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she says before we part ways and I tuck my phone into my back pocket.

The bookstore is crazy when I get inside, completely crowded by students all trying to get their books for the start of classes—all likely having the same idea as me. The earlier I get there, the fewer people. Turns out that's not true at all, and it takes me nearly a full hour to get all the books and supplies my professors sent us a list of and pay.

I'm halfway through the campus courtyard when my shoulder begins to ache from the weight of the bookbag. It's heavier than I expected it to be, and I have to pause to adjust my grasp on it when Isla runs up next to me. Her long black hair pulled back in two braids.

"Hey," she says, reaching for the bag. "Give me some of that."

I eye her shoulder where her duffle bag already rests. "You've got your own stuff to worry about," I tell her, adjusting my grip. "I can handle this."

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