by Gemma Weir
I glance at the others and find them shaking their heads.
“Wilson Hill, Addington Hall, and Hayhurst are the best academically,” Valentine offers.
“They’re all smaller, private schools too, so less people, probably better food,” Zeke says, flicking through the brochure for Wilson Hill.
“Okay, so location,” Nova says, her voice upbeat. “Where is Wilson Hill?”
“Duluth, Minnesota,” Zeke says, turning the glossy booklet in his hands around to show us.
“And what about Addington Hall and Hayhurst?”
“Addington Hall is in Iowa, and Hayhurst is Alabama,” Valentine says.
“Are we ruling out Auburn, Arizona State, and the University of Kentucky?” I ask.
“You and Valentine both got accepted to more than one Ivy League school. You guys should go to the best school possible. Addington, Hayhurst, and Wilson Hill are the best of the ones we all got into.” Griff says solemnly.
It’s obvious that despite his earlier words, he’s not completely onboard with the idea of me not going to Dartmouth, but I don’t call him out on it. Hopefully once we pick a school, the reality of all of us being together for the next four years will change his mind. Regardless of his opinion, this is the right decision, I can feel it.
“Let’s go visit those three then. We can road trip or fly in if it’s too far to drive. We’ve all put off campus tours, so it makes sense to do them now,” Zeke says, lazily flopping back onto the couch, his arms stretched over his head.
We debate the merits of the three schools for the next hour or so, then as a group head out of the basement, emerging into the kitchen only to find music playing and the smell of BBQ permeating through the house.
“Looks like Mom activated the Sinners telephone tree,” I say sardonically. “I’m gonna guess that all of our families are here.”
“Looks like it,” Zeke says, stepping forward and heading toward the backyard. “I’m starving.”
I follow him, shielding my eyes from the bright sunlight as I step outside and immediately spot my mom sat on the patio with Brandi and Auntie Liv.
“They’re here,” Phoenix shouts and everyone’s attention turns our way.
“So,” Auntie Liv asks, standing up from her seat and wringing her hands together nervously. “Where did you all get accepted to?”
My gaze hits the ground. I don’t want to talk about my reasons for wanting to run away from Archer’s Creek. Although my reasons are all valid, I’m fairly sure I’d end up upsetting all of our families who love it here. When Zeke steps forward, I sigh with relief.
“There are a lot of shiny booklets for colleges downstairs. We haven’t made any final decisions yet, but we’ve narrowed it down to three schools: Hayhurst College, Addington Hall, and Wilson Hill,” he says.
“What about the rest of you?” Auntie Brandi asks.
“The same for all of us,” Valentine says, stepping up next to Zeke.
“You’ve all picked the same schools?” Duke asks, his tone light and amused. Griffin’s brother is the youngest of all the parents and has the least parent-like tone.
Sucking in a lungful of air, I lift my head and lock eyes with my mom. “Yeah, we’ve decided to pick a school so that the five of us can stay together.”
I expect to see her disappointment and brace myself for it, but instead her smile is wide and happy. “Those are three great schools, kids. I’m so proud of all of you.”
Tears pool in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall, blinking them away and leaning into Zeke for support. His arm snakes around my waist and he squeezes me quickly, sensing my relief.
“We’re going to take a trip out to the three schools and have a look around, then we’ll pick our favorite.” Nova announces, bouncing across the patio to where her dad is flipping burgers on the grill.
With the big announcement done, we all disperse, grabbing plates and drinks. I settle on a lounger overlooking the beautiful sky-blue pool. It looks so tempting I consider going to grab the spare swimwear I keep in Nova’s closet for when I come around.
Griff drops down onto the end of my lounger, his plate overflowing with potato salad, chicken, and a huge burger with cheese melting down the side. For a long moment we sit side by side, neither of us saying anything.
His appearance isn’t a surprise. His agreement about my change of college plans was too easy, and I’ve been expecting the speech I’m sure he’s about to make ever since.
“You were so desperate to get away from us, you were going to pick the school farthest away.” Griff growls, his eyes narrowing, as anger slips into his tone.
“I wasn’t desperate to get away from you, just to get away.” I admit. “Going to Dartmouth and being in New Hampshire, somewhere so different than here just felt like it would be a completely new life.”
“What the fuck is so wrong with this life, Emmy? Explain why you think what we have is so fucking bad?”
I can hear the anger building inside of him and I sigh trying to decide how I can explain how I feel to him. “Nothing and everything. This,” I say, gesturing around the backyard at all of our family. “Is all I’ve ever known. I’ve only ever lived in this town. I’ve only experienced the Sinner way of life.”
I expect Griffin to say something, but he doesn’t.
“Don’t you want something more?” I ask.
“I think we always want more,” he says quietly, his eyes softening as he looks at me, with a wistfulness that I don’t really understand reflected back at me. “But it can all be taken away in the blink of an eye, and this life feels pretty good to me.”
Groaning, I lift my hand up to cover my eyes. “It is a good life, but maybe something different could be better than good. What if it could be great?” Sighing, I blink slowly, letting my eyes lock with his, hoping he can see what I so desperately need him to understand. “I don’t know what I want anymore. I don’t want to stay here, but I don’t want to run away either.”
Griff pulls my hand from my face. “Come here,” he says, urging me to curl into his side.
I move, placing my head on his chest as he curls an arm around my back and brushes my hair away from my face with his other hand.
“We’ll figure it out, I promise,” he whispers against the top of my head. “Roots and wings. I’ve got you, shortcake. Always have, always will.”
Inhaling deeply, I rest my cheek against the top of her head. I just promised her that everything would be okay and I have no idea if that’s true or not. We’ve been losing her for years and then all of a sudden she came back to us and it was just like it was when we were kids. Emmy was one of us, all the way in, a Scion.
I think we all knew that our time together was limited, but Nova, Zeke and I were just so fucking happy to have the fourth member of our group back that we all just pretended it would last forever.
A big part of me wants to cling to this bomb she just dropped on us and be excited that she wants to forgo her ambitious future for one that includes the five of us going away to college together. For a moment I was over the fucking moon when she stood in front of all of us and said that she didn’t want to go to Dartmouth, but how good a friend are we if we just let her give up a dream she’s had for years?
Her arms are wrapped tightly against my waist and memories of us doing this a thousand times before all flash into my mind. Emmy’s home to me, the closest I’ve had since the last time my mom hugged me and I don’t want to give her up.
My gaze wanders around the garden to the people who are here, chatting, eating and being a family even though they’re not related by blood. How can she think there’s something out there that’s better than this?
Unlike Emmy, I’ve seen a little more of the world, lived somewhere other than here, but that only makes me even more certain that what this town has, what the Sinners have, is unique. I was born a Sinner. My dad was the president of our hometown chapter and I spent the first seven years of my life living as part of t
he club, but it was nothing like this.
My dad was cold, detached and ruthless, and my mom, me, and Duke were his property. Our future was cemented into place the day we were born. We would follow in his footsteps regardless of if that was what we wanted or not. I loved him because he was my dad, but now that I’ve seen what it’s like to be supported and loved from this group of people, I’m not blind to his faults.
Emmy has every opportunity. She has a loving family, she has great friends, a great home town and an entire club full of people who would fall over themselves to make sure she’s safe, loved and protected. This place is a bubble, but she wants to live in a world without the Sinners.
Everything inside of me wants to protect her from discovering that the world outside of our lives isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. My instincts tell me to protect her, to shelter her and cosset her from anything that could hurt her, but I can’t do that if she’s thousands of miles away.
I should release her, but instead I grip her a little tighter. My inner fucking caveman is screaming that if I can keep her close, maybe I can stop her from drifting from us again, but even while I’m touching her it still feels like I’m losing her.
I’m not ready to consider her actually turning down her place at an Ivy League school to follow the rest of us to one of the three schools we’ve narrowed it down to. Because as much as I want it to be true, I don’t ever want to be the ropes that are holding her back.
What’s that cliché saying…? If you love it set it free. My gut says fuck that; if you love it keep it close, but what do I know? I’m an eighteen-year-old kid.
Sighing, I reluctantly let her go and she looks up at me with glassy eyes. “It’ll be okay, Griff,” she whispers.
I nod, not believing it, but wanting it be true. Hoping that we can keep her in our lives without clipping those wings she so desperately wants to spread.
In the next few weeks we fly out to both Wilson Hill and Addington Hall to do campus tours and look around. Wilson Hill is in the middle of a city in Minnesota and even though I’ve always loved the idea of living in a bustling metropolitan city, after a couple of days I was almost glad to get back to the sleepy pace of life at home. Thankfully, the others felt the same way and we all agreed to cross Wilson Hill from our shortlist.
Our visit to Addington Hall was more of a success. The campus seems to have fallen straight out of a Harry Potter movie, with gothic turrets and towers that made my inner bookworm start squealing with glee. The one big downfall for the school was that the location made Archer’s Creek look positively hectic. The town of Addington was the closest bit of civilization to the school’s campus and even that was still nearly ten miles away and consisted of one long street with a bar, two diners and a handful of shops. So we were still on the fence about if the school, with its fantastic facilities and outstanding academic results, was worth living in the middle of nowhere.
It’s been three weeks since our last trip out of state and our upcoming trip to Hayhurst seems to be taking forever to arrive. Nova has been gushing excitedly about how after our trip to Alabama our futures will be sorted soon and how awesome it will be when we’re all together at school.
But the closer we get to making a decision, the more apprehensive I get. I’m not changing my mind about staying with my friends for school; there’s just something about picking a future and committing to it that scares me half to death. What if I make the wrong choice and the road I pick leads me straight back here?
We’re starting our road trip to Alabama in the morning. When we announced that we wanted to drive the thirteen-hour journey to visit Hayhurst, my daddy just about lost his mind, and though I know he’s just an overprotective Daddy with his precious daughter’s interests at heart, it was another reason why I wanted some independence away from home.
One Week Before
“Hell, no,” Dad says, looming over me, his chest heaving with angry indignation.
With my hands on my hips I tilt my head back and just look at him, my eyebrow arched in an imitation of the way I’ve seen my mom look at him when he’s exasperating her.
“No, absolutely fucking not. There is no way I’m allowing you to drive for thirteen fucking hours with some punk kids.”
“Daddy, you really shouldn’t use that language,” I scold, barely keeping a smile from my lips.
“Emmy,” he growls in warning.
“You’re being dramatic. The punk kids I want to visit our potential university campus with are your nephews and nieces, and I’m not asking your permission, I’m telling you what I’m doing.”
“Little girl, don’t you sass me. I’ll ground your ass til you turn twenty-five and I’ve got an entire club full of your uncles that’ll back me up.”
“Daddy,” I sigh.
“I’m not happy about this,” he growls, his lips pursed into an aggravated scowl.
“I’m eighteen. I’m going with family and it’s only Alabama for one weekend.”
“If you want to go see that school, your mom and I will take you.”
“Dad,” I whine, rolling my eyes. “I’m not a little girl anymore. I’ll be going away to school soon, so you need to start trusting me.”
“I do trust you.”
Scoffing, I give him a pointed glare. “If you trusted me, you wouldn’t be refusing to let me go. We’re going to look at the school. It’s hardly going to be a rager with drugs and beer and boys.”
“I don’t understand why you can’t just go to Texas State. Then you could live at home.”
“Cam,” Mom scolds, crossing the room and sitting down in Dad’s lap.
“What?” He says innocently.
“She’s not a baby anymore.”
“She’s my baby. She always will be and I don’t want her to go to a school fourteen hours away.”
“Daddy, I got into schools all over the country. I could be much further away than Alabama. Hayhurst is only a short flight. If I’d decided to go to Dartmouth instead it would have been over eight hours on a plane, and nearly thirty hours to drive.”
My dad huffs disdainfully, but I ignore him and cross my arms across my chest. “I want to go to school with the others, and you didn’t have any issues with us going to visit the other schools. I know you’re not happy about us driving, but I’m sorry, this weekend I’m going on a road trip to Hayhurst College. I don’t need your permission, I’m an adult. If you force my hand, I’ll go without your approval, but I don’t want to do that. I want you to see that I’m a sensible, mature woman and that a road trip with my friends, your nieces and nephews, isn’t something dangerous. I’m not stupid or reckless and you need to trust that I’m capable of looking after myself.”
His sigh is gruff and pained. “I know how capable and mature you are, baby girl. I’m just not ready to lose you yet.”
I watch as Mom wraps her arms around his neck and whispers something I can’t hear against his ear. “Fine, you can go, but you need to be careful, and I’ll be telling those boys that if they ever want to be a part of my club, they better keep you safe,” Dad growls, holding Mom tightly to him.
Rushing over to him, I throw my arms around his neck and both he and Mom hug me. When I pull back, I press a kiss to his cheek. “Love you, Daddy.”
“Love you too, baby girl,” he replies and I swear I hear a crack of emotion in his voice.
Present Day
My dad is completely unprepared for me to go away to college, even though he’s always known it was going to happen. Maybe it’s that he knows once I move away it’s unlikely I’ll ever live here in Archer’s Creek again. He can sense the dissatisfaction in me, much more so than anyone else.
I may look like my mom, but my personality is alarmingly similar to my dad’s. He feels so much more than he lets on and he and I are exceptionally in tune for a father and daughter. My dad raised me to be his baby girl, but he also prepared me for life as well. He, more than most knows I’m capable of looking after myself, because he
taught me.
A pang of loss hits me in the middle of my chest and I roll to my side. Until now I hadn’t really thought about how much I’d miss my mom and dad; hell, even Phoenix too. Resting my palm beneath my cheek, my other hand holds my Kindle tightly as I try to distract myself with another world.
It doesn’t take long for me to dissolve into the story, to allow the words to become the tide and pull me under, drowning me in a vivid story about love and loss and choice. I see familiarities in each scene, each character, feeling their struggle as though it were my own. To some a book is merely lines on a page, but to me, it’s an escape. It’s somewhere I don’t have to be me. It’s a chance to leave this narrow world of mine and experience more, so much more, and all without ever leaving my room.
In real life I’m not brave or bold. I don’t take risks or put myself out there for adventures, or love or experiences. But between the pages of a book, I can be whoever I want to be and that freedom is the most liberating thing I’ve ever experienced in my eighteen short years of life.
Just as I’m busy wallowing in pathetic self-pity, my Kindle screen turns black as my battery dies. My cell beeps, signaling a text message and I roll to my stomach to reach for it, glancing back to my Kindle, just in case by some miracle it’s now fully charged, but it’s still dead. Awkwardly, I pull my cell from my pocket and bring the screen to life, clicking into the text message app.
Griff – Stop reading.
Prying my other arm up from beneath me, I quickly type out a reply and hit send.
Me – I’m not reading.
The three dots barely flash before a message pings up.
Griff – Bullshit.
Me – I swear I’m not reading.
Griff – The battery dead on your Kindle?
Me – Yes ☹
The fact he knows me so well makes me smile. Rolling back onto my back, I twist my head and stare at the setting sun through my bedroom window. With my storybook escape beyond my reach for the moment, my mind drifts to tomorrow, our trip, and the choices I’m going to be expected to make after we get back from this weekend.
