“I won’t make any rash decisions, Julian. I can promise you that,” Birdie said, finally gathering me in a hug.

Late spring eventually became late summer, and I assumed Birdie had abandoned her plans to maybe sell the place. Her admission otherwise makes my stomach sick again.

“It belonged to my father and Birdie,” I tell Elijah. “He was going to turn it into an after-school spot, like a community center for kids, but when he died that plan kind of died, too.”

“Oh,” he says. “That storefront sat empty for so many years, I didn’t realize anyone owned it.”

It’s only seven thirty in the morning and already I’ve had enough of today. Everything feels so heavy and exhausting. I just want to take a nap.

Elijah stares at his shoes as we turn the corner onto Main Street, and I try not to look at the brown-paper-covered windows in the storefront next to Ron Redd’s. “So, can I ask you something?” he says.

I let out a ragged breath. Can I say no? Can I say, Please just be quiet and let’s walk to school without acknowledging each other? What about, You make my head spin when you’ve only been here a day and a half, Elijah, acting like you don’t owe me an explanation about how you disappeared three years ago. Can I say that?

“Yeah, you can ask me something,” I answer through gritted teeth.

He takes a few breaths and adjusts his backpack and then his shirt and then the waistband of his shorts before he finally talks. “Tell me more about Reece,” he says to the ground. “I didn’t know you… I didn’t know there was a Reece.”

Of course you didn’t know there was a Reece. The only way you would have known there was a Reece is if you actually tried to call me or text me or even write me a freaking letter and put it in the mailbox.

“There’s not much to tell,” I say. “We met online, and then he came to see me, and we just… we just kinda started from there.”

This is the most boring version of my relationship with Reece that I could possibly relate to Elijah. When we met online, I was still pretty shaken by my experience with Elijah, and while I really did want to meet someone, I was convinced that everyone was out to hurt me.

One afternoon, after a few weeks of talking, a nice little SUV pulled up in front of our house, and out stepped Reece, his plaid shirt buttoned all the way up his neck and tucked into belted shorts. Sleeves rolled just so to show off his toned arms.

I saw him coming and ran outside. “What are you doing here?”