I pull my phone from my pocket and call Frankie. I texted both her and Ma when the bus pulled into Corpus Christi, but I really just want to hear her voice.

“Hey,” I say when she answers. “Just got done with dinner.”

“Jeez, I miss you already. This is going to be a long few weeks.” She laughs a sad laugh.

“How’s my girl?”

“She keeps wandering around the apartment looking for you. I think the boxes are confusing her. I told her you weren’t here, but I don’t think she believes me.” She sighs.

“I’m sorry,” I say, my throat tight.

“Hey! None of that! We’ll be there in a few weeks, and Coley won’t even remember this. Don’t you think like that. You go to school and play football and do your thing, and don’t even think twice about us. We’ll be there soon,” she says.

I don’t answer. Not thinking about Coley or Frankie or even my mother for a few weeks isn’t really even an option.

“How are things…” she says.

“What things?”

“Don’t make me say it. You know what I mean.” She sucks her teeth.

“With Julian? Not… um… not great,” I say, a slight hiccup in my voice. My throat feels thick, and I blink a few extra times.

“Oh, ’lijah.” Frankie sounds genuinely sad.

“Maybe this was a mistake,” I whisper.

“You know things are always darkest before the dawn. We knew this wasn’t going to be easy when Ma said she wanted to move back to Meridien,” she says, her voice quiet but steady.

“I know,” I say, my gut swirling while I fiddle with the switch on the lamp.

I remember Ma sitting with her laptop at our tiny kitchen table with the month’s bills spread out around her and a job website open on the screen.

“What are you up to?” I asked her, filling a glass with ice.

“Do you know I could make almost double what I’m making right now if I took this administrative job at Dirk Murphy’s insurance agency?”

“Murphy? Darien Murphy’s dad? In Meridien? Why would you want to move back there?” I asked her. My stomach dropped to my knees at the thought of seeing anyone from that town again, but especially Julian.

“This is not the place we should be raising Coley.” She shook her head and looked around our cluttered apartment. “We can do better than this.”

Next thing I knew, she was talking to Dirk Murphy on the phone and telling Frankie to start collecting boxes and milk crates from her part-time grocery store job.

“Stiff upper lip,” Frankie says on the phone, drawing me out of my thoughts. “School. Football. Keep your head on straight, and me and Coley and Ma will be there before you know it. It’s going to get easier, ’lijah.”