When I look again, twenty minutes have passed in a blink. The farther I get from everything, the lighter my mind feels. I’m not controlled by panicked thoughts as I drive down the dark and unfamiliar roads. I focus on my future. The future that no one can take from me, that no one can make me give up. I stop frequently for coffee, snacks, and just to breathe in the morning air. When the sun finally comes up halfway through my drive, I focus on the bright yellow and orange light it casts and the way the colors blend together, making a beautiful, bright new beginning to the day. My mood lightens with the sky, and I find myself singing along to Taylor Swift and tapping my fingers on the steering wheel as she talks about “trouble walking in”—and I laugh at the irony of the lyrics.

As I pass the sign welcoming me to the City of Seattle, my stomach fills with butterflies, the good kind. I’m doing this. Theresa Young is now officially in Seattle, making a life for herself at an age when most of her friends are still trying to figure out what they want to do with their lives.

I did it. I didn’t repeat my mother’s mistakes and rely on other people to carve my future for me. I had help, obviously—and I’m grateful for it—but it’s up to me now to take it all to the next level. I have an amazing internship, a sassy friend and her loving fiancé, and a car full of my belongings.

I don’t have an apartment . . . I don’t have anything except my books, the few boxes in my backseat, and my job.

But it will work out.

It will. It has to.

I will be happy in Seattle . . . it’ll be just like I had always imagined it to be. It will.

Every single mile drags on and on . . . every second is filled with memories, goodbyes, and doubts.

KIMBERLY AND CHRISTIAN’S HOUSE is even larger than I had expected from Kimberly’s description. I’m nervous and intimated by the driveway alone. Trees line the property, the hedges around the house are well manicured, and the air smells of some flower I don’t quite recognize. I park behind Kimberly’s car and take a deep breath before climbing out. The large wooden door is crested with a large V—and I’m giggling at the arrogance of such a decoration when Kimberly opens the door.

She raises her eyebrow to me and follows my eyes to the door she’s just opened. “We didn’t put that there! I swear: the last family that lived here was named Vermon!”

“I didn’t say anything,” I inform her with a shrug.

“I know what you’re thinking; it’s hideous. Christian is a proud man, but even he wouldn’t do such a thing.” She taps the letter with her red fingernail, and I laugh again as she ushers me inside. “How was the drive? Come in, come in, it’s cold out there.”

I follow her into the foyer and welcome the warm air and sweet smell of a fireplace.

“It was okay . . . long,” I tell her.

“I hope I never have to make that drive again.” She scrunches up her nose. “Christian’s at the office. I took the day off to make sure you get settled in. Smith will be home from school in a few hours.”

“Thank you again for letting me stay. I promise I won’t be here longer than two weeks.”

“Don’t stress yourself; you’re finally in Seattle.” She beams, and at last it hits me: I AM in Seattle!

chapter

seventy

HARDIN

How was the kickboxing yesterday?” Landon asks, his voice strained, his face contorted into a stupid-looking expression of physical effort as he lifts yet another bag of mulch. When he drops it into place, he puts his hands on his hips and says with a dramatic eye roll, “You could help, you know.”

“I know,” I say from the chair I’m sitting on and prop my feet up on one of the wooden shelves inside Karen’s greenhouse. “Kickboxing was okay. The trainer was a woman, so that was fucking lame.”

“Why? Because she kicked your butt?”

“You mean my ass? And no, she did not.”

“What made you go, anyway? I told Tess not to buy you that pass to the gym, because you wouldn’t use it.”

Annoyance flares in my chest at the way he called her “Tess.” I don’t like it one fucking bit. It’s only Landon, I remind myself. Of all the shit I have to worry about right now, Landon is the least of my concerns.

“Because I was enraged, and I felt like I was going to break everything in that goddamned apartment. So when I noticed the voucher as I was pulling out all of the drawers in the dresser, I grabbed it, put my shoes on, and took off.”

“You pulled out all the drawers? Tessa’s going to kill you . . .” He shakes his head and finally takes a seat on the stack of mulch bags. I don’t know why he agreed to help his mum move all this shit around, anyway.

“She won’t see it . . . it’s not her place anymore,” I remind him, trying to keep the edge out of my voice.

He looks at me guiltily. “Sorry.”

“Yeah.” I sigh; I don’t even have a witty comeback.

“It’s hard for me to feel bad for you when you could be there with her,” Landon says after a few beats of silence.

“Fuck you.” I lean my head back against the wall, and I can feel him staring at me.

“It doesn’t make sense,” he adds.

“Not to you.”

“Or her. Or anyone.”

“I don’t have to explain myself to anyone,” I snap.

“Then why are you even here?”

Instead of answering him, I look around the greenhouse, unsure of what I’m doing in this place myself. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

Does he think that I don’t miss her every fucking second? That I wouldn’t much rather be with her than standing here talking to him?

He gives me a sideways look. “What about your friends?”

“You mean the one who fucking drugged Tessa? Or the other one who set me up in order to tell her about the bet.” I start counting them on my fingers to add to the dramatic effect. “Or you could mean the one who is constantly trying to get into her pants. Shall I go on?”

“Guess not. Though I could have told you that your friends sucked,” he says in an annoying tone. “So what are you going to do?”

Deciding that keeping the peace is better than murdering him, I just shrug. “Exactly what I’m doing now.”

“So you’re going to hang out with me and mope around?”

“I’m not moping. I’m doing what you told me to do and bettering myself,” I mock, using air quotes. “Have you talked to her since she left?” I ask.

“Yeah, she texted me this morning to tell me she arrived.”

“She’s at Vance’s, isn’t she?”

“Why don’t you find out for yourself?”

Fuck, Landon is annoying. “I know she is. Where else would she be?”

“With that Trevor guy,” Landon is quick to suggest. And his smirk makes me reconsider the stay of execution I had just granted him. If I tackled him, it wouldn’t hurt much; he’s only about three feet off the ground anyway. It probably wouldn’t even leave a bruise . . .

“I forgot about fucking Trevor,” I groan, rubbing harshly at my temples. Trevor is almost as infuriating as Zed. Only, I believe that Trevor does actually have good intentions when it comes to Tessa, which only upsets me even more. It makes him more dangerous.

“So what’s next in Project Self-Improvement?” Landon smiles, but it fades quickly and his expression turns serious. “I’m really proud of you for doing this, you know. It’s nice to see you actually trying for once, instead of making an effort for an hour, then going back to the way you were the moment she forgives you. It’ll mean a lot to her to see you really following through on these changes.”

I drop my feet and rock in the chair slightly. Talking like this is stirring something up in me. “Don’t try to lecture me. I haven’t done shit yet; it’s only been a day.” A long, miserable, lonely day.