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He’s too close. Too tempting. Too…Tate.
How am I supposed to survive him for the next two months? This isn’t us, hurting each other with spiteful comments and empty accusations. But it is us. The new us.
And as if the universe wants to substantiate my point, a group of girls rushes him.
“Oh my friggin’ god, are you Tate Brooks?”
“We saw you in Dallas! You were incredible.”
“Would you sign my shirt?”
“What are you doing in Iris Meadows?”
Tate is so distracted by his fans, smiling and posing for selfies, that he doesn’t notice me slink away.
How can we ever find the old us again when I have to share him with the world?
THIRTEEN
TALIA
EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD
“If you leave, do not come running home when it all falls apart, you stupid girl.”
My mom has spent the last twenty minutes preaching at me as I pack my bags. This evening, Tate and I told our parents we were leaving for Tennessee. Annie already knew of our plans, but we’ve decided to leave earlier to get settled before I start classes. She was all for it. My parents? Not so much. My dad gave up caring and sits in front of the TV, leaving my mom to pass judgment. And, boy, does she have a boatload.
“You’re throwing your life away with that boy.” She hasn’t taken a breath. “Do you hear me, Talia?”
“I hear you, Mom.” The whole neighborhood can. “But it won’t happen. Tate and I are—”
“Dumb and ridiculous,” she interjects. “You didn’t even tell us you’d applied to college in Nashville. I thought you’d attend the local community college.”
They knew. I pinned my acceptance letter to the fridge. A utility bill was in its place the next day, and they made more of a fuss over how they were going to pay it in time than celebrating their daughter’s success. I’m forever an afterthought.
I don’t have a complicated relationship with my parents. I simply don’t have one.
They’ve never hit me, but for as long as I can remember, I’ve felt like a third wheel in their life. They’re either berating me or forgetting my existence. So, the fact that my mother has such a strong opinion on what I do with my life now that I’m eighteen is pretty out of character. We don’t look alike. I inherited my red hair and fair skin from my paternal grandmother. Ironically, Mom disliked her too.
I’d always accepted their disdain—had almost grown accustomed to it. It was only when Tate and I started hanging out that I realized how toxic they are. He stood up for me once after my mom made a nasty comment to me over dinner, and as much as I appreciated him, it only made matters worse. He tolerates them, is always polite, but I know it’s becoming harder and harder for him to bite his tongue at my request.
They won’t be our problem for much longer.
I’m not in the mood for arguing with her, not when I need to finish packing. Tate is due to arrive soon, and I’d rather not spend another minute in her presence.
“Vanderbilt University has a great law program, and there are plenty of job opportunities in the city for Tate.” I empty the last drawer from my dresser and stuff the contents into my suitcase. My bedroom walls are bare, the photos and posters packed away. The room holds no sentimental value. It was four walls, somewhere to sleep at night. “Why can’t you just be happy for me?”
She stares at me with nothing but ire. I gave up trying to work out what I’d done to be a constant thorn in her side years ago.
“Happy?” she spits. “You’re going to end up pregnant before the summer ends and that Brooks boy will leave you high and dry. And when you come knocking on our door, begging for a place to stay, I’ll tell you I told you so.”
“Tate!” It’s the first time I’ve ever raised my voice to her, shocking us both. “His name is Tate. You can think whatever you want, Mom, but I know he would never leave me. I love him and he loves me. Is that so hard to believe?”
I push down on my overflowing suitcase with my knee and force the zipper closed. One trash bag and a suitcase with a wonky wheel is all I need when a familiar horn blares outside.
Mom hates it when he does that.
Which is why he leans on it extra hard a second time.
