Laura’s equally creepy response to Ida’s chirpy declaration that she was “lucky to be taken in by the dear Reverend and Mrs. Brown” was not the horror and a hearty Bitch, let’s saddle up some Morgan horses and get you the hell out of Dodge that I yearned for. Instead, the titular character was charmed by Ida’s “dear and cheerful heart.”

Oh, girl, I thought. You’re not lucky. You’re trapped.

Chapter Fourteen

SALISHWOOD IN OCTOBER was more gorgeous every day, a romantic Abercrombie & Fitch backdrop against which Sean’s nonstop sweetness made resisting the “we’re alone, so let’s make out real quick” opportunities even more agonizing. With my phone I sent him links to PBS and Netflix documentaries about kids aging out of foster care, and he watched them and asked questions, which I appreciated and hated because it made me like him more.

—

“You’re so gloomy without him,” Kira said on a Monday afternoon over the noise of Blackbird’s espresso machine. “Just—you don’t have to marry the guy. Can’t you go out with him and not let it ruin your life?”

I ignored my homework to watch her pipe perfect frosting wings on sugar cookie bats and didn’t say that being friends with her was also dicey AF. The more I depended on her kindness and company, the more anxious I felt. But I held on, maybe because I’d left friends behind never to see them again, and maybe I could do it again with Kira and still be okay.

Except none of them had been as smart and funny and understanding as Kira was. No one had ever been so nice to me. And I hadn’t ever liked any friend nearly so much.

I dipped my toast in the raspberry jam. “I’ll survive without the company of a boy. Or, hey, how about if you take art next semester or have an actual conversation with Elliot, I’ll go out with Sean again.”

She flipped me off and stole a piece of toast crust from my plate.

“Oh, speaking of…”

The bells rang and Elliot materialized as if summoned. I liked that he deviated from the other kids’ standard-issue boy uniform of knee socks and basketball shorts (no matter if they played or not, no matter the weather). Elliot, like Sean, wore actual pants that went all the way down to his shoes. Kira put down her piping bag and ducked behind the counter, smiling and straightening her apron, and then the bells rang again.

“Oh, hey, Kira?” Tiana’s saccharine upspeak gave me the creeps. Everything was a question. “I didn’t know you worked here?” She put her hand on Elliot’s arm.

“Yes, you did,” I said. “Everyone does.”

Kira exhaled audibly. Tiana glared.

“Hi, Kira,” Elliot said, smiling shyly. “How’s it going?”