AllFreeNovel
Share Us
And when we finally cross the California state line, that static on the speakers finally gives way to something else, something clean.
A fresh start; I can feel the shift.
Emma sings along with the radio until the dense mountain air follows suit and gives way to something new, too—for all of us. The sun sparkles off of skyscrapers and the waters of the bay as the city stretches out before us, swallowing us whole. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. My mom reaches over and turns the volume all the way down just to take it all in.
We must arrive later than the majority of my peers, because the parking lots are all full and hallways mostly settled by the time we start carrying things in from the car. My mom parks in a fire lane along the backside of the building, earning us a decent amount of disapproving looks from others as they pass. Luckily, I don’t have much. It only takes us two trips to get everything up to the second floor of the building.
Apparently, my roommate beat me here and has already claimed her side of the room; it’s neatly unpacked and decorated, but she’s nowhere to be seen.
“Looks like that’s the last of it,” my mom says. “We should hit the road.”
“Can’t we stay a little longer? At least for dinner? I want to see more of the city,” Emma pleads.
“No, unfortunately, the adults here have to work in the morning. And we’ll be getting back late enough as it is. Say goodbye to your sister.”
“Bye, Mel,” she says. She crosses the room toward me, and I wrap her up in a hug, wondering how different she’ll be the next time I see her—and hoping she’ll be okay without me.
I meet Ty’s eyes, and he nods reassuringly, knowing exactly what’s going through my head. He’ll be there; he’ll make sure she’s okay.
‘I’m not Emma's mother,’ I’d told him only days ago. It hadn’t exactly been true then, and it isn’t exactly true now.
“We’ll give you two a minute,” my mom says. “Come on, Emma. Let’s go wait in the car.”
“What? No parting words of wisdom for your firstborn?” I mock.
She smiles, but not a real smile—I’ve never gotten many of those. Her eyes, steely blue like my own, remain cold, hard, almost lifeless. It’s something that I’m used to, but I’m taken aback for a moment, the air knocked out of me as this time, I recognize them from somewhere else.
They’re the same as the ones I’ve seen staring back at me in the mirror all week.
She pulls me into a hug, leaning in close enough that I feel her breath on my neck before she whispers, “Here’s some words of wisdom for you. You want to be special? You want things to turn out differently for you—you want to be better than a delusional, second-rate version of me? Here’s your chance, baby girl. Don’t fuck it up. Don’t come back.”
She releases me, flashing me another one of those generic, defunct smiles and gestures toward the door. “Time to go, Emma.”
Emma looks at me with watery eyes and blinks once, sending large, silent tears rolling down her cheeks before she runs to me again and throws her arms around my waist.
“I’ll miss you, Mel,” she cries. “I’m going to miss you so much. I don’t know what I’m going to do without you.”
I squeeze her tightly against my chest, then place my hands on her shoulders, leaning down so that we’re at eye level.
“Hey,” I say. “Look at me.”
She sniffles and wipes her eyes before she looks up at me.
“Suck it up,” I tell her. “This isn’t how we do things. And remember what I told you—you know what to do without me; you’ve always known. Listen to your gut.”
“We raise ourselves,” she whispers.
“Okay, let’s go,” my mom says, checking her watch impatiently.
“Emma!” She turns back to me as she reaches the door’s threshold. “You are special. Don’t let them put you in a box.”
She nods, then my mom pulls the door closed behind her, leaving Ty and myself alone in the room. He sinks down onto my bed and runs his hands over his face, then through his hair.
“This doesn’t feel right,” he says.
“I know,” I say. I move to stand between his legs, then sink down onto my knees and rest my head in his lap. “But…we can handle it. I need you.”
“That’s not what I mean, Mel,” he says, running his fingers through my hair. “I don’t mean the distance—we’ve been talking about you going to college for years now. It’s something else, isn’t it? Can’t you feel it?”
