TWELVE ROWAN

TWELVE

Rowan

MY MOM WON’T STOP CALLING me. I’ve avoided her FaceTime calls over the last couple of days because I didn’t want to deal with her over-the-top concern, but I finally answered on Wednesday night.

“There you are!” She beams at me and I take her in, noting how beautiful she is even though she’s my mom. I remember being young and telling her I wanted to marry her someday. I think I was four. She just laughed and said she was already married to my dad and I burst into tears.

She loves that story. I used to hate it but now I get it. My four-year-old self was completely enraptured by my mother and I see why. She’s the best—when she’s not nagging me.

“Sorry, I’ve been busy. School.” I lean back against my headboard, bracing myself for the endless questions she’s about to ask me.

“Well, I’ve got good news.” Her mysterious smile has me curious. “I’ve made an appointment with your doctor on Monday and if all looks well, you’ll be able to rid yourself of the boot.”

“Seriously?” I sit up, excited for once in my life. Feels like I’ve been wearing this stupid thing for years. “That’s great.”

“As long as you’re healing properly, you should be good. I hope you’ve been taking it easy.”

Here we go.

“I definitely have.”

“Good. I miss you and your brother so much. I’m so glad you’ll be home soon! Did you arrange for a car to pick you up yet?”

“I need to do that.”

“Or I could talk to Pat for—”

“No, I’ve got it,” I say, cutting her off. “I need to do shit on my own, remember?”

She’s frowning. I’m sure she doesn’t love that I just cursed at her. She rarely says those types of words. Neither does my sister. “I know you’re busy. I just want to help.”

“I’ve got it. You want us coming home Friday after school?”

“Absolutely. Why spend the weekend there? Get your vacation started as soon as possible.”

“Right.” I think of Bells stuck here by herself for a solid ten days and how fucking miserable that must be. Without her family or friends. Catching up on her reading and homework. Eating shitty turkey with the other students who are stuck on campus during the holiday.

That must suck.

“Row, you look sad. Is everything okay?”

“What? Yeah, everything’s fine.” I shake my head but she just peers at me through the screen and I know she’s going to keep asking. “I’m thinking about a friend.”

“Is something going on with your friend?” She sounds concerned when she doesn’t need to be.

“Everything’s fine, there’s just this—girl who goes here that I know. Her parents live in Hong Kong and she’s stuck on campus for every holiday.”

“She doesn’t get to go home to see them?”

I shake my head.

“And they don’t come here to see her?”

“Nope.”

Mom rests her hand against her chest, horrified. “That’s terrible! The poor girl. She must be so lonely. Can you imagine spending the holidays by yourself?”

I can’t, and that’s why I can’t get Arabella out of my head. The thought of her being holed up here pretty much by herself for ten days makes me feel … bad.

And no one makes me feel bad. Not really. I just live my life and I’m grateful for what I have—to a point, because let’s be real. My life has always been like this. I’m not necessarily grateful for it either. I expect things to be a certain way. Meaning I’m privileged as fuck.

Knowing that Arabella has wealthy parents and supposedly this great life, yet spends most of her time all alone, breaks my fucking steel-infused heart.

“How close are you to this girl?” Mom asks when I haven’t said anything.

“I mean …” I let my voice drift, pondering how I should answer her. Truly? We’re not that close. Though lately we’ve been talking more. Sharing more. Getting closer. “We’re friends.”

“Good friends?”

I shrug. “Sort of?”

“Do you like her, Rowan?” Mom’s brows lift. This is the last thing I want to talk to her about.

“Not like that.” Lies, all lies. “I don’t know.”

Her lips curve into the faintest smile, and I don’t want to give her any kind of hope. I haven’t dated a girl in years. According to my parents, I’ve never dated anyone period. They don’t know about the one girl who broke my heart and taught me that relationships are for suckers because I didn’t tell them about her. It was such a brief moment of time it makes me wonder …

Why do I let that experience keep me in such a chokehold? I can’t even think her name in my brain, let alone say it out loud, and I’m letting what she did wreck me for life?

Stupid.

“You should invite this girl home with you,” Mom suggests.

“I couldn’t” is my automatic reply.

“Why not? The poor girl spends the week of Thanksgiving alone. That’s dreadful! What kind of parents does she have anyway?”

“Shitty ones,” I mutter, making Mom laugh, which makes me smile too.

“You are correct in that assessment. But really, Row, invite her here. You don’t have to entertain her the entire time. There will be plenty of people around both at our house and at Whit and Summer’s. It’ll be a busy time for us. She’ll have something to do every day if she wants.”

“And what if she doesn’t want to?” I hate the thought of asking Bells to come with me and she turns me down. I don’t like rejection. Who does?

Guess I need to put my feelings aside for once in my life and think about hers.

“Then that’s on her. At least you asked.” She pauses. “It’s the right thing to do, Row.”

I groan. Mom knows just how to make me feel like a dick. “I know.”

“So do the right thing and ask her. The worst she’ll say is no.”

I get the feeling Bells won’t say no. She’s been crushing on me hardcore for what feels like years, and lately … the feeling is reciprocated. Though I have no idea what to do with that. With her. My feelings aren’t easy to process and most of the time I want to banish them and forget they exist. I just want to live and not worry or think about anything. Or anyone.

Lately, I’ve been focused more on my future. Get this fucking boot off my ankle. Get through the rest of senior year. Graduate. Move on. Become an adult and live my real life.

But what the hell does that even mean? Aren’t I living my real life right now?

See? It’s all confusing.

“I’ll ask her,” I say reluctantly, and Mom actually claps her hands together like an overexcited little kid. “But don’t get any weird ideas.”

“What in the world are you talking about, weird ideas? I would never.” She’s laughing, and I already know she’s got plenty of weird ideas running through her mind.

And every single one of them has to do with me and Bells.

I T’S the next day at school and I’m waiting for Arabella in my usual spot, surrounded by my friends. Nothing unusual or out of sorts. I didn’t try to change my routine save for that one time and it threw everything off.

Best to stay in my lane and do my normal thing.

Except, the moment I see her making her approach, I break away from my friends and start heading toward her. It’s extra cold this morning, the sky dark and gray. A storm is headed our way and they predict freezing rain this afternoon and the possibility of snow overnight.

Winter is unofficially upon us.

As Arabella gets closer, I take in the fine details of her outfit. She’s got on her normal uniform. Not much looks out of place, save for the clunky moonboots she’s wearing on her feet. They’re white and puffy and remind me of my own boot, but much more stylish. Even a little ridiculous.

Somehow, she can pull them off.

“Bells, I’m disappointed,” I announce to her.

Her shoulders sag a little and I note the dark circles under her eyes. She looks tired. “What did I do now?”

“Just the shoes, huh? That’s the only change to your outfit?” I focus my gaze on her feet and she kicks the right one up, like she’s showing off for me.

“I’m tired, Rowan. This was as good as I could manage.” Even her voice sounds weary and I’m hit with an unfamiliar emotion.

Fuck, I think that’s … concern I’m feeling?

I take a step closer and curve my fingers around her elbow. She has on her uniform and a thick coat, and still when I touch her there’s a buzz that jolts through me the moment we connect. It’s so wild.

Unexplainable.

“Are you okay?” I ask her, my voice low.

She tilts her head back, her dark eyes wide and unblinking. “I’m fine.”

There is no emotion in her voice. Meaning she is clearly not fine.

“Maybe I should ask if you’re okay,” she says, taking a step back, allowing me no choice but to let my hand drop from her arm. “Why did you run over here to meet me anyway?”

“I didn’t run—” I clamp my lips shut, not in the mood to argue with her this morning. “I wanted to talk to you. Alone.”

Arabella winces. “You’re freaking me out, Rowan. What’s going on?”

“I have a question to ask you.”

“Okayyyyy.” She drags the word out, clearly off-center. Is it wrong that I enjoy rattling her?

Probably.

“I wanted to know if … you’d like to come with me.”

“Come with you where?” she asks.

“To my house. For Thanksgiving break.”

She goes silent, blinking at me once. Twice. Her lips part and close together until finally she manages to speak.

“Really?” Her voice is hopeful, as is her expression and I can’t help but shrug. Trying to play it off like the asshole I am.

“If you want.” I flick my hair out of my eyes with a jerk of my head, hating that I witness her face crumpling. For a moment, I think she’s going to cry, but her expression transforms and just like that …

She’s mad.

“I’m not your charity case, Rowan.”

And with that shitty statement, she turns on her heel and strides away.

Fuck.

I chase after her, pissed at myself for making her feel bad and extra pissed at the boot that slows me down. I call her name once. Twice. And still, she won’t turn around. She’s walking with no rhyme or reason, meaning I can’t figure out where she’s going, and when I finally yell out, “Bells! Give me a break here!” She slows down. Comes to a stop.

And waits for me.

When we’re finally face to face again, I realize she’s shaking. Her eyes are wide and full of unfamiliar emotion and that’s when it hits me.

She’s not just mad—she’s furious .

“What’s wrong?” I start to reach toward her again and she jerks away from my touch, taking a leaping step back.

“I don’t need your sympathy, Rowan. I already feel bad enough.”

Say what? “I’m not trying to make you feel bad, Bells. I just—I want you to come home with me.”

“And what? Are you going to introduce me as your girlfriend?”

“Of course I’m not. Because you aren’t my girlfriend.”

Arabella rolls her eyes, a strangled sound escaping her before she stomps off again. I’m too tired and pissed off to chase after her so I watch her go, not surprised at all when she comes to a stop, turns around and marches back toward me.

“You don’t even like me,” she practically screeches, poking my chest with her index finger. “I annoy you most of the time and now you’re asking me to come home with you? Make that make sense.”

Damn it, she’s right. It makes zero sense. But none of the feelings I have toward Bells make any sense to me. I can’t figure them out. I can’t figure her out.

“We have an—understanding. Right?” I send her a look.

She just scowls at me in return, her arms wrapped around her middle like she needs to ward me off of her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

I decide to take a different approach. “I consider you a friend, Bells. We spend a lot of time together, don’t you think? We’re in every single class together this year. We hang out at lunch. Before school starts.”

She doesn’t say anything. Just watches me with that moody expression on her face.

“We share mutual friends. Cal loves you.”

“I love Cal,” she murmurs.

The normal jealousy I experience in regards to these two and their friendship rears its ugly head and I mentally tamp it down. “I invite Cal to my family’s house when we’re on break.”

“But that’s different.”

“How?”

“You’re a boy. So is Callahan. And I’m a girl.”

“Meaning we can’t be friends?” Why the hell am I trying so hard with her?

“Is that what I really am to you, Rowan? Your friend ? Because I always figured I was that annoying girl who constantly fluttered around you and drove you crazy.”

Her description isn’t too far off, but I’ve started to realize there’s something about her that I’m attracted to. And when she’s not around, I …

I miss her.

And I don’t miss a lot of people. I’m pretty self-sufficient and can handle my shit on my own, despite what my mother believes. Yet I don’t like the idea of not seeing Arabella for ten whole days.

“You don’t drive me crazy.” The skeptical look she sends me almost makes me laugh. “Much.”

“Exactly.” She drops her arms to her sides. “I don’t know how to feel about this invite, Rowan. It’s hard for me to believe you want me to come to your house and spend the next week with you. I’m sure I would get on your nerves. And I don’t know your family—I might get on their nerves too. Won’t they think it’s weird, you bringing home a girl that’s not your girlfriend?”

“I don’t care what they think,” I say vehemently. “All I know is that I can’t stand the thought of you being here on campus all by yourself through the holidays.”

Her eyes go wide at my outburst and I clear my throat, trying to gain some control over my sudden turbulent emotions.

“Come home with me, Bells.”

She says nothing, though I can tell from the look on her face that she’s probably going to say no.

Damn it, I don’t want her to say no.

“Please?” I tack on the extra word. A word I rarely use because it’s always felt like begging. There’s an appropriate time and place to say please and in this moment, I need to. I’m losing her.

Arabella’s expression softens. Even her shoulders go slack, and I see her answer reflect in her gaze before she actually says it.

“Okay,” she murmurs.

Right as the warning bell rings.