4. Sequin

4

SEQUIN

O ver the next few days, relatives from all around the country stop by to give us advice for our Becoming Day. We haven’t seen most of them since last year, so it turns into a family reunion of sorts where everyone camps out in sleeping bags on our living room floor or in Uncle Dagger’s RV. The bathroom situation is a nightmare, but it’s nice to hear Aunt Crystal talk about placing her paws on her mate for the first time, and the magic that overtook them both. I love Uncle Dagger’s big belly laugh, and the way his daughters all sleep in the same sleeping bag in their raccoon forms like my brothers and me. They’re a litter of six, and a few years younger than us.

It isn’t until the day after our graduation that everyone starts to pack up and leave. Mom and I spend the morning in the kitchen baking thick loaves of French bread and big sugar cookies to send with them. She puts on some Dolly Parton after the cookies come out of the oven, and we sit under the chandelier in the dining room, icing each cookie with orange and lemon frosting.

“I remember when your Uncle Dagger left home. He was seventeen, wasn’t he?” she asks Aunt Emerald, who’s icing cookies with us. Uncle Dagger is two years older than Mom and Aunt Emerald. They were in the same litter along with Aunt Crystal.

“Yes. Crystal was so upset. She wouldn’t take her raccoon form for a week,” Aunt Emerald says.

“Why isn’t Uncle Dagger in a litter?” I ask.

Aunt Emerald and Mom look at each other meaningfully.

“I suppose you’re old enough to know the truth,” Mom says. “Uncle Dagger was conceived before Grandpop bonded to your Grandpa. It was quite the scandal back in the day.”

I’m confused. “So he has a different alpha dad?”

“No. Your Grandpop just hadn’t put his paws on your grandpa yet. When they… you know,” Aunt Emerald lowers her voice, even though she hasn’t said anything inappropriate.

“When they had sex,” Mom says.

She and Aunt Emerald laugh.

“It’s rare for a raccoon shifter to have multiples unless they’re bonded,” Mom explains. “So your Uncle Dagger is a single. Poor guy. He was always jealous of us growing up. The bond a litter shares is special.”

Link ambles into the room wearing nothing but a pair of jeans riding low on his hips. Mom slides the bowl of frosting away from him, just as he reaches for it. “Hands off. You can have a sugar cookie when we’re done with them.”

“But I like the frosting by itself,” Link says.

She holds fast to the bowl. “Yes, I’m very aware of that. If you’re good, I’ll let you lick the bowl when I’m done.”

“You’ll let me lick the bowl? What am I? Five?” Link asks.

“Sometimes you act like it. Go put on a shirt. Uncle Dagger’s about to leave with Coin. You don’t want your brother to remember you like that, do you?”

My stomach sinks. “Coin is leaving with Uncle Dagger?”

Mom presses her lips together. “I thought he told you. I’m sorry. He’s going to help Uncle Dagger fix some things at his furniture shop. They arranged it all yesterday.”

Then it’s started. My brothers are officially leaving.

“Coach wants me on campus by next week,” Link says. “Practice starts at seven in the morning. During the summer.” He scoffs like he hasn’t had early morning football practice every summer for the last four years.

I guess I should have realized he’d leave for college early.

“Silver was thinking he might come with me. Maybe get a job or something.” Link shrugs his shoulders.

Then it will only be Tin and me this summer. I set my knife down and stand up.

“Sequin, it’s okay. I was thinking we could go camping this summer,” Mom starts, but I escape the dining room and run past a few of our cousins down the hall to our bedroom. Luckily, it’s empty. I don’t want anyone to see the tears burning in the corner of my eyes.

Why are they so eager to leave? Don’t they like living with our moms? We have the best parents anyone could ask for. I sit on the hammock and rest my head in my hands. What will I do when this hammock is no longer ours, but just mine? What will dinner be like with only me and our moms? An emptiness spreads through my chest. I’m not ready for everyone to leave. I thought I would have more time.

The door opens. Silver steps inside, his long shiny hair swishing across his shoulders. Normally, he has it pulled back in a pony tail. But like Link, he’s shirtless and only wearing a pair of jeans. They usually take off their shirts when they smoke weed behind the shed in the backyard. Link claims their shirts soak up the smell.

I think Mom can smell it either way.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey.”

He sits down next to me in the hammock. He’s heavier than I am, so the hammock bows, forcing me to lean against him.

“I guess Link told you about my plans?” Silver says. His voice is gentle, like I’m a wild animal about to bolt or something.

“Yep. And Coin’s.”

Silver turns and wraps his big arms around me.

“I’m fine,” I lie. “You don’t need to do this.”

He doesn’t say anything in return. He just hugs me. Which makes it all worse, because it’s exactly what I need. Silver always knows what to do when I’m sad.

“I thought you were leaving at the end of the summer,” I say. A single tear slides down my cheek. I wipe it away quickly.

“Lucas found his fated mate.”

I pull away from him, not sure if I heard that right. Lucas is Silver’s best friend. They’ve been as thick as thieves for as long as I can remember, even after Lucas presented as an omega.

I always thought Silver would put his paws on him when they were ready to settle down.

“Is he sure?” I ask. “Don’t wolf shifters usually not recognize their fated mate until their mid-twenties?”

Silver nods.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

“It’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault. I just need to get away.” He gives me this sad smile that makes me wish I could take his pain away. It’s my turn to wrap my arms around him. He relaxes against me. For a few moments, we just sit there and find comfort in each other’s warmth.

“You could come with me, you know,” he says.

“I promised Mom I’d help her with the bakery.”

She runs a bakery out of our home during the summer. We sell cookies and bread at the local farmer’s market. Our plan was to expand the business into a few local grocery stores.

“There are bakeries in Houston. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you wanted to come. Coin is leaving with Uncle Dagger, and Tin’s starting his job early too. The horse trainer he’s apprenticing with asked him if he could. He said summer is the busiest time of year.”

My heart aches as I realize that’s the real reason Silver came in here. Someone had to tell me that Tin is leaving too. How did this happen? We were supposed to have one last summer together.

I hold Silver tighter. “Why does everyone have to go?”

“We’re excited to start the next part of our lives.”

“Why?” I ask again.

“Aren’t you, Quin? We’re eighteen. We should be excited about what comes next.”

I release him and get out of the hammock. I know I’m supposed to be excited about the rest of my life. Everyone is always telling me that. The counselors at school, our moms, and now Silver. I’m supposed to have some big, exciting plan that’s better than our perfect childhood. But I don’t.

“What if my life is already good just the way it is?” I say. “Why do I have to wish that things were different? What if I don’t want things to change?”

“Things are always going to change, Quin. That’s the one thing that stays constant. If you’re not excited about what’s coming next, then maybe you need to figure out something to work towards. Something to look forward to.”

I turn away from him. He doesn’t understand. I’ve never wanted a fast-paced, fancy career. I’ve never wanted to move to the city.

“What’s wrong with where we are?” I ask.

“Nothing.” He stands and walks toward me. “But it’s just the starting point.”

He holds out his arms, but I don’t need another patronizing hug. I also don’t need him to tell me how to live. Just because I’m not like him, doesn’t mean that what I want with my life is wrong. I like living with our moms. I like our trailer and our neighborhood.

I escape out of our bedroom and through our living room full of family members packing up to leave. There’s nowhere in this house I can go without being forced to face the reality of the future.

So I leave. Not somewhere exciting, like college. Just outside.

Far enough away that I don’t have to deal with how empty our house will be.