He lifts his head a fraction, just so our eyes lock. His gaze carries horrors and tribulations, I see. His gaze carries more than I’ve met. “Some guys around your age that live in our gated neighborhood,” he begins, “they broke into our house. Everyone’s fine.” He adds that part quickly but his gaze falls back to his hands.
He looks haunted by the incident, and I glance over at Ryke, his brown eyes planted on the carpet with the same disturbed expression.
“This happened on Ryke’s birthday?” I know it did. I read it in multiple articles. I push my glasses up, realizing my face is in a permanent wince.
“Yeah. I would’ve told you sooner, but…we’ve been trying to deal with a lot.”
“It’s okay,” I say, just grateful he’s telling me at all.
On September 19th, Ryke’s birthday, I was at Lucky’s Diner. Talking to my mom. Afterwards, I texted Lo that I was going to spend the night at a hotel and probably just hang out there the next day. He replied about three hours after I sent the message, a lot slower than normal.
Loren Hale: Okay, let me know if you need anything. I’m always here.
“They didn’t steal anything,” he explains. “They just came inside with masks to scare us, as a prank. It’s not going to happen again, so I really don’t want you to be afraid of coming around. The guys who did this, they live in our neighborhood. They’re just rich pricks…or jerks.”
My lips faintly rise. It’s kind of funny when he tries to “censor” himself around me, like I’m a little kid. I’ve told him once that I don’t mind when he curses, but he just shrugged. I don’t know…I like more that he cares enough to try, even if it’s not necessary.
And then my smile fades completely and my brows knot. “They live in your neighborhood?”
“Not for fucking long,” Ryke says. He thinks I’m frightened by them being there—but that’s not what’s rolling around in my head.
If they live in that neighborhood, there’s a good chance those are the same guys I saw at that party. The same ones causing trouble in Superheroes & Scones. “What do you mean, not for long?”
“We called the cops,” Lo tells me. “We’ve let them off the hook a lot because…I know what a small charge can do to someone’s future. I didn’t want to get them written up for putting dog shit on our front porch.”
Ryke looks at his brother. “You did the right thing by waiting.”
Loren nods a couple times, looking as though he’s trying to believe it was the right course of action too.
“We fucking warned them,” Ryke adds.
“Yeah.” Loren nods again. “So we’re pressing charges this time around.” He motions to me. “I wanted to tell you sooner because I want to include you in my life, as much and as often as I can, okay?”
I smile. Wow. My eyes feel glassy, and I take a deep, strong breath and nod. “I’m glad.”
“Good.” Lo stands. “And you should know that some of these guys go to your new school. They shouldn’t be there anymore, but some of their friends might be. And if they give you shit, you let me know.”
I’m about to ask why they would “give me shit”—but then I realize…I’m Willow Hale to them. To everyone. To the world.
I’m the only relative of Loren Hale that will be walking the halls of Dalton Academy.
And Loren Hale possibly just sent their friends to jail.
The Calloway Sisters & Their Men – Fan Page
Back Then | Followers: 18K
Big news! Loren Hale’s cousin has moved into town. There’s not much we know about Willow Hale—yet—but it will only be a short time before Redditors and paparazzi gather more information. Here’s what we know so far:
She’s seventeen.
That’s it. Seriously! We don’t even know where she came from. It’s like she materialized from thin air. Maybe those conspiracy theories are right and Loren Hale’s family all have superpowers. LOL!
But for real, Willow Hale is a mystery. Early reports were that she might have been Ryke’s new girlfriend but that’s been debunked now that we know Willow is a Hale. And not to mention Raisy is a ship that is clearly sailing into the sunset.
Until I get more information, check out the gif set of Willow’s epic tampon fumble!
Love you like Loren loves Lily,
xo Olive
13 BACK THEN – September
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
GARRISON ABBEY
Age 17
I pace outside of Superheroes & Scones at 6 a.m., my shit feelings causing me to linger. Only a few cars whiz by every minute, Philly beginning to wake—why am I awake?
It’s Saturday. I should be in bed sleeping off these shit feelings—I can’t sleep.
I stop and rest my arm on a parking meter for a second. An old gold Honda hugs the curb.
I parked my car a block away from here, needing the walk to think. Now that I’m outside the storefront, I’m still thinking apparently, and it’s not helping.
Nothing is helping.
I tug my hood over my head, the morning air cold. Everyone at Dalton knows what happened at Loren’s house, and most of them know that I was supposed to be there.
My mutual friends with Nathan—ones that weren’t there that night—think I’m disloyal and a shit friend for welching. Believing that I could’ve helped them escape before Loren caught them.
I can’t even hang out with the people that think Nathan is scum for what he did. I’m guilty by association. I passed Rachel in the hallway. She bristled at my presence and said, “You could’ve stopped your friends, you know. Why didn’t you do anything?”
Some mornings, I wish I’d just gone ahead and done it with them. Because I know I could never be strong enough to convince all of my friends to turn around with me. No one gets that.
“Why are you here?” I mutter to myself under my breath. And then blinds begin to open from inside the store. I don’t believe in signs or astrology or any of that, but this feels like something.
Move.
I walk away from the parking meter. Nearing the door. Why am I here?
Because I literally have nowhere else to go.
I have no friends. I have no life-altering aspirations. Every door feels shut except this one…the one that Loren Hale left open for me.
If this doesn’t work out…I don’t know what I’m going to do.
I eye the closed sign and then knock on the glass door. I lean over and see Lily Calloway through it. She looks startled, her green eyes widened at me.
Shit. I go still, more uncertain now. Her bald-headed bodyguard flanks her side, the burliest guy I’ve ever seen. His thick left arm could probably crush my windpipe.
She bites her nails, and I knock again, letting her know that I want to enter the store. I keep shifting, like I might bail and go home at any second.
Lily says something to her bodyguard, her gangly body looking even thinner while she stands next to him. She makes me less nervous for some reason.
He replies back, and then she approaches the door.
I tense as soon as she cracks the door and sticks her head out. I pull back my hoodie so she can see my face, and then I look over her shoulder. “Is Loren here?”
“No.” That’s all she gives me.
I deserve that.
I deserve even less, actually. I look at her bodyguard again. He crosses his arms and actually glares at me. I let out a pained noise, meaning it to be a laugh. “Forget it. This was a mistake.” I go to turn around.
“Wait,” she says quickly.
I hesitate, halfway turned.
“What do you want?”
How do I say this? I grit my teeth and try to purge my feelings, but all I say is, “Your boyfriend or fiancé or whatever… he offered me and my friends a job.” I roll my eyes, realizing how this sounds after what happened. “It’s fucking stupid anyway. Everything is.”
I’m leaving.
The single thought sounds good, and I know how deep
it actually goes.
“Lo told me about that.” She swings the door wider open. “Do you want to come in?”
I hardly hear her. My lips part in shock, and my eyes burn. “What?” I breathe, looking between her and the opened door. I fully expected her to shut it in my face.
“If you want a job, you have to come into the store,” she says nicely and even produces a smile. “Although…” Her eyes light up. “It’d be kinda cool if we had a superhero mascot out front. Do you want to be a mascot?”
“No.” I shake my head in fog, barely registering anything she just said. How can she be this nice to me? She waves me in again, and I tentatively walk inside, my fists stuffed in my jean pockets. I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous.
Don’t screw this up. I know. I know.
Her bodyguard blocks me about ten-feet into the store. “I need to pat you down.”
Right.
I could have a weapon or some shit, looking for vengeance for them turning in my friends. I understand. I extend my arms, and the big guy pats my pockets and checks my hoodie. I hear some people talking softly by the cash register, but I don’t look over there.
I scan the racks of comics, a cardboard cutout of a couple green-clad superheroes close by.
After Lily’s bodyguard finds nothing on me, he nods to her in approval.
“So you want a job?” she asks.
My face twists, unable to detect any resentment on her features. She’s what…twenty-four? She looks sixteen, to be honest—just really thin with a round face and rosy cheeks. Her brown hair is chopped at her shoulders, and she scratches her arm while she waits for me to speak.
I don’t know what I feel, but it’s all rising and hitting me fast. “You’re not even going to ask me where I was that night? Or what happened?”
It’s hard to believe Lily is a sex addict. The way she stares at me like “oh right”—slightly aloof but still approachable like a lost turtle—isn’t someone I’d think would have a lot of sex.
Then again, one of my friends, Carly, has a tongue piercing and she’s a virgin. So I don’t know why I draw these conclusions, knowing they never add up anyway.
Lily pulls back her shoulders some and hesitantly asks, “Where were you?”
The question pummels me full-force, even if I was the one who basically asked it to myself. I look up at the ceiling and shake my head.
And it just rips out of me. “I’m not a good guy. I never told them to stop. I knew that they planned to break in and scare everyone, and I didn’t do anything. I just let them leave.” I choke on a laugh. “And now they’re all looking at a year in prison. And I’m standing free.”
She never even flinches. I watch her take in more than just my words, her eyes reddening. It’s like she gets it. I don’t know how… “What made you stay back?”
I stare at the carpet. “Everything your boyfriend said… fuck, I don’t know. It just didn’t feel right, scaring girls and babies… I know one of you has PTSD…”
She stiffens. “Wha…?”
“I didn’t tell anyone,” I say quickly, realizing this is private information. “I promise. I can’t even remember who let it slip. Either Ryke or Loren shouted it at me. No one else was around.” I drop my head, and my bed-head hair falls into my eyelashes. “I think… you should know that I planned to go with my friends.”
I swallow a rock, struggling to force tears down.
Stop crying. I’m not crying, okay? I’m not. I just… I want to be someone else. I can’t live with this anymore. And I don’t even know what this is. Yeah I do…
This is me.
“I literally could not move my stupid feet,” I say, my voice shaking. “And there’s a part of me that wishes I was with them. That I got caught too.”
She says softly, “You did the right thing.”
I don’t think I did. I look up at her. “Did I? I can’t even say I’m sorry because it feels fucking stupid. Like…” I push my hair out of my eyes. “Like it’s not enough, you know? It’s not at all.” It’ll never be.
“This was enough,” she says. “I promise, it was.”
I try to let out a deep breath, and I try to believe what she’s telling me. I don’t think I can forgive myself, even if she’s forgiven me.
I rub my reddened eyes with my arm and exhale again. I scan the store once more, grazing over the shelves and superhero posters along the wall.
I’ve never had a place that felt safe, but this one does. It feels like more than that.
“Here, I’ll introduce you to Maya, the store manager,” Lily says. “She’ll have a better idea what positions need to be filled.” She guides me towards the checkout counter.
I figure Maya must be the one with short black hair since she takes charge and shows the other girl the register.
“Hey,” I say, nodding to the girls.
I startle the one with the loose braid. She bangs into the cash tray, overturning the plastic container. It lands on the floor, cash and coins spilling out. She freezes at first, blood rushing out of her skin, ashen and pale.
Shit.
“I’m so sorry,” the girl says to Lily. She pushes up her black-rimmed glasses, and it hits me all at once.
I know you.
She seems to dodge my gaze, kneeling to gather all the fallen money. Maya stays at the computer, typing on the keyboard.
“I can help.” I squat a little closer to this girl, hoping she raises her head and looks at me, just once. I want to know if she recognizes me too. If she knows who I am—if she hates me like almost everyone else.
Or maybe I just want her eyes to finally meet mine.
While I gather dollar bills, I keep glancing at her, watching as she picks up a few quarters and drops them in the same instant.
My lips rise, and I help her pick those up too. I can hear her breath shorten. And my fleeting smile fades.
Maybe she’s scared of me.
I remember her from that party over a month ago.
The girl searching for Loren Hale.
I also remember her from a recent article.
The girl who turned out to be Loren Hale’s cousin.
I still can’t wrap my head around why she was asking which house Loren Hale lived in when she should’ve had his phone number. Maybe their parents are estranged from each other—I guess it’s not an important detail anyway.
“Okay,” Lily says hurriedly, “now you’ve met Willow and Willow you’ve met Garrison. Meet-and-greet has ended.”
I haven’t met her yet, not really. She won’t look at me.
I rise to my feet at the same time as Willow, helping her fit the cash back into the register. “Are you new here?” I ask, kind of already knowing the answer based on Maya showing her the checkout counter.
Why won’t you look at me?
“Yep,” Lily says quickly. “Yep, everyone’s new. Willow, can you get my purse from the break room?”
Willow shifts slightly, keeping at least two feet between us. “Sure.” She tries to smooth down a stack of fives.
“I can do it,” Maya says, scooting closer.
Willow abandons the register and heads for the break room. She has on those same faded overalls and a mustard-yellow shirt. When she walks, it’s closed-off, tucked into herself—and a part of me understands that.
More than I ever thought I could.
She pauses midway to the door. “My backpack…”
I notice the old JanSport backpack, propped against the counter. “This?” I grab it and make my way to Willow.
She finally meets my gaze.
Her brown, doe-like eyes are inquisitive and nervous. I see recognition, her gaze flitting over my features, to place me correctly.
I stop about a foot away, and her chest rises in a large inhale.
Mine collapses in a deeper one.
I pass the backpack to Willow, our fingers brushing, and something tugs inside of me. I can’t make sense of it. All I know: we’ve been by
passing each other for weeks, two separate strands of time—and in this second, we’ve finally touched.
“Thanks,” she says, pulling the backpack over one shoulder. She holds onto the strap.
When she turns around, she trips over her feet, stumbling a bit before she collects herself and trudges forward.
I feel my lips pull up again, remembering the article. Where her backpack ripped open. She looked cute in the photograph—but the actual article was fucking stupid. It made me want to dump out the journalist’s backpack or purse or whatever and highlight every item for the world to see.
“Garrison,” Lily says as Willow disappears into the break room.
“Yeah?” I rotate to face one of the most famous people in the world. I think it’d dawn on me more if Lily Calloway didn’t live in my neighborhood. If I didn’t grow up surrounded by a similar kind of familial wealth.
It’s just all ordinary for me.
“You can’t,” she says with a confident nod.
I frown. “I can’t what?” I pull off my hoodie and then fix my hair with my hand.
“You can’t…with her.” She clears her throat. “I expect professionalism in my establishment.” She comically raises her chin, and I almost can’t tell if she’s being serious or not.
“Right…” I nod. “Yeah. I won’t…with her.” I don’t really know what I’m agreeing to—my mind is halfway inside that break room.
Lily nods again. “Okay then. I have to go, but Maya will dole out duties and tasks. Please listen to her.”
“I will,” I say, wanting Lily to trust me. I know I have to prove myself.
She exits through the employees’ only door. Leaving me alone with Maya.
The store manager pounds on the keyboard and lets out a frustrated breath. She never looks over at me, but she begins talking.
“You’re the one who peed all over the tiles in the boys’ bathroom.”
I wince at the past memory. “No, that was my… friend.” I’d like to say John drank too much alcohol and drunkenly missed the toilet, but he purposefully pissed on the floor.
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