The lock clicks. Success.
I push through the backdoor of Superheroes & Scones, and before the alarm can go off, I quickly type in the passcode. Yesterday, Lily switched the code, so Willow gave me the new one.
And yeah, I had to tell Willow I flunked. I couldn’t lie to her.
I hate that she’s kind of an accomplice to this whole “breaking and entering” thing. But the alternative was sneaking into her bedroom (she offered it as a place to crash) and I don’t want to ruin us by being that guy. Willow doesn’t deserve some loser crashing on her floor.
Quietly, I tiptoe through the deserted store. Not a soul or sound in the entire place. It feels like a comic book graveyard in the dark.
Dipping into the breakroom, I use a giant stuffed Millennium Falcon plushie as a pillow and lie on the hard ground.
I slide the letter out of my backpack and then flip open a lighter. Flame to paper, I watch my future—or lack thereof—burn between my fingertips.
My parents aren’t ever going to know I flunked. And if I have it my way, I’ll never see them again.
Honestly, that’s the only future I want.
25
willow moore
Someone is following me.
I know I sound paranoid, and maybe it’s because of the intense paparazzi onslaughts recently. Cameramen wait for me to leave Superheroes & Scones every single shift. Without fail. I even slipped out the backdoor (the one that smells like weed) and still had this mustached man shove a camera three inches from my face.
He could have broken my glasses. That was one of my fears at least.
He did scream so loud and so close that his voice drilled into my head. “Willow! Willow! Do you know anything about Connor & Rose?! Is their marriage fake?!”
The accusations against Connor Cobalt and Rose Calloway have been horrible lately. The media discovered Connor has slept with men, before he dated Rose, and now they think his relationship with Rose isn’t real. Like he’s using her to hide his sexuality.
Thankfully some fans realize that Connor can be attracted to men while also being attracted to women. That both things can be true: Connor sleeping with guys in the past and also loving and sleeping with Rose in the present.
It just sucks that some fans aren’t louder than the media.
When the cameraman rushed me, I wasn’t brazen enough to scream in his face, but I felt like yelling. A big part of me regrets not saying anything. Not sticking up for Rose and Connor when they’ve been so kind to me.
Especially Rose.
But I’m also kind of glad I didn’t say anything. Opening my mouth probably would’ve made the situation worse. Anyway, Ryke and Lo are yelling enough for just about everyone these days.
I did write a few supportive Tumblr posts, and I reblogged cute Coballoway gifs from fan accounts. Garrison told me to send him the links, and he did the same.
I walk down the sidewalk towards my apartment building. With the parking deck under construction, I had to park a block away. A white Volvo slowly moves on the other side of the street and keeps pace with me.
That’s weird, right?
Paparazzi have never really followed me to my apartment. They lose interest in me as soon as I climb into my Honda. They couldn’t care less about abandoning Superheroes & Scones for Loren Hale’s boring “cousin.” I’ve been glad about that.
But this…
Changes things.
I tighten my hold on the backpack strap and quicken my pace. The apartment complex’s front entrance is inches from my fingertips, and a man jumps out of the Volvo. “Willow! I’d like to ask you some questions!”
I flinch, my pulse spiking.
I don’t know why, but he sounds more serious than the other paparazzi. Like a fancy news reporter. It makes me do a doubletake, and he quickly catches up to me.
“I’m with Celebrity Crush—”
Oh…no. Nope! Do not want to talk. Celebrity Crush has been known to spout off some of the worst and nastiest rumors about the Calloway sisters.
I mumble out an I’m sorry or maybe it was just unintelligible words. But I say something that my brain and mouth put together before bolting into the apartment complex. My hands shake as I dig for my cell. Just as I find it in the depths of my backpack, a text pings.
Garrison: made it to S&S. Thanks for the assist. Owe you like a million. Hey, did you know how comfortable the Millennium Falcon is? Who would’ve guessed?
I calm just reading his text. But my heart still thrashes against my ribcage, reminding me what I have to do.
I dial his number.
The line clicks. “Willow?”
“Lo, I have to tell you something.”
If I total all the days and weeks that I’ve been in Philly since I left Maine, it’s been around nine months, and I’d like to think that’s a long time. Almost a whole year on my own. It makes me feel better knowing that I tried really, really hard to not be a burden on Lo. To not accept more from my brother than I absolutely have to.