Mom: We’re coming home early. Make sure to come home the moment you get off work.
I frown as I read the text again.
“I think I might have to take a rain check for tonight. My parents are coming home earlier.”
“That’s okay,” he says. “We’ll have plenty of time to go out after you move out, right?”
“Yeah, you’re right.” I start to put my phone away, but another text buzzes through.
Mom: I don’t want to have this conversation over the phone, but I feel like, if I don’t say something now, you might be ruined by the time we get home. We know about the guy, Luna. Mary Pepersoon saw you two holding hands today when you were supposed to be at the store.
My head whips up, and I scan the sea of faces, realizing how badly I’ve messed up by holding hands with Grey out in the open.
“Luna, what’s wrong?” Grey asks with concern.
I wiggle my fingers from his grip and hug my arms around myself. “Someone saw us holding hands and reported it back to my mom.” My thoughts sink to what they’re going to do to me, and that pressure builds in my chest again, smothering the air from my lungs.
I glance at the nearest store, desperate to go in there and fill my pockets with temporary relief. Just one more time. That’s all I need.
His expression fills with frustration. “That’s such bullshit. It’s nobody’s damn business what we’re doing.” He snatches hold of my hand again and steers me in the direction of the store, but he goes past it, heading toward the diner.
“Where are we going?” I ask, jogging to keep up with his long strides.
“We have fifteen minutes left until break’s over,” he says determinedly. “That’s enough time to fill out a couple of job applications.”
“But how do you know who’s hiring?”
“Because I spent days applying to every place that was hiring, but people wouldn’t even give me the time of the day because of that whole stupid shoplifting thing. You, however, should be able to get a job easily.” I open my lips, but he cuts me off. “Yeah, I know. You shoplifted, too, but no one knows about that, and you don’t need to tell them.”
“But what if I try to steal something? Because I kind of want to now.”
“Well, right now you’re with me.” He stops in front of the diner and cups my face between his hands. “And working here, I don’t think you’ll have that big of a problem. Besides, I think it might be easier to control your compulsion when your parents aren’t controlling you.”
He’s right, and even if he isn’t, I won’t know until I try.
Squaring my shoulders, I open the door and take my first step toward freedom. Crossing my fingers, I pray I can ride out the storm at home until I get everything put together.
After we leave work Saturday night, I don’t see Luna for the rest of the weekend. She does send me a couple of texts on Sunday to let me know she’s alive and that no one has physically harmed her. I reply, asking her if they’ve verbally harmed her, to which she responded, I can handle it.
I can handle it? She can handle it? Her words echo in my head for the rest of the day while I work on packing up my stuff.
The buyers of our home threw in some bonus cash if we could be out in two weeks. Wanting the extra money, my mom agreed, so we’ve been running around the house like a bunch of chickens with our heads cut off, trying to put everything in order.
My mom forces us to take a break at dinnertime to go see our new place, though.
“I know it’s kind of small,” she says to Mia and me as we roam around the three bedroom, two bathroom apartment. “But it’s cheap and will really help us get on our feet again.”
Mia grimaces as she pokes her head into one of the bedrooms. “There’s barely enough space for my bed,” she grumbles.
Fortunately, my mom is too busy looking at the cupboard space to hear her.
“I know it sucks,” I say, reclining against the wall. “But right now, we just need to be grateful that we have a roof over our head.”
“Yeah, I know.” She sighs as she slumps against the wall across from me. “And at least we’ll have more money now, right?”
“Maybe a little bit more.” I tread with caution. “But I don’t think things are ever going to be like they were when Dad was alive, and Mom needs us to be okay with that. She’s under a lot of stress.”
“I know, but it’s hard sometimes. I miss how things were when everyone was happy all the time.”
“Me, too. But I think things will get easier with time.”
“I hope so.”
“So, what do you guys think?” My mom asks as she walks down the hallway toward us with a hopeful look on her face.
Mia and I exchange a look then turn to her and smile.
“I love it.” Mia skips up to her and encloses her arms around Mom. “Thanks, Mom.”
Mom pats Mia’s head, confused. “For what?”
“For making sure we didn’t end up homeless,” Mia says, looking up at her.
My mom’s eyes water, and then she reaches out and yanks me into their hug. “We’re going to get through this. Things will get better.”
“I know they will.” I wrap my arms around them and hug them both. “Mom, you’re doing a good job,” I feel the need to say. “I know things are complicated and different, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Sometimes changes can turn into something good.”
Maybe it’s Luna’s optimism wearing off on me, but I mean what I say. The last four or five months have been difficult and full of change, and not all of those changes have been great. Losing my dad was the hard, and watching my mom struggle breaks my heart. But changing myself—trying to be a better person—has been my good through the bad.
Yeah, there’s been a lot of ups and downs happening at school, but compared to the stuff going on with my family, school drama has been the easy part. It’s given me a chance to grow and move away from the life where I surrounded myself with people who made me unhappy.
I’m feeling pretty okay with life in general by the time my mom, sister, and I return home. But, as I’m getting ready to go to bed, I receive a text message.
Since my contacts didn’t transfer over when I got my new phone, it takes me a moment to figure out who the message is from.
Unknown: U r taking me to the dance.
Just one simple sentence, but it carries weight.
Me: Who is this?
Unknown: The person who’s going to destroy your girlfriend if you don’t take me to the dance.
Me: Piper?
Unknown: Duh. Who else would this be?
My jaw ticks.
Me: Why can’t u just get Logan to take u to the dance? U two seem pretty into each other.
Piper: Jealous?
Me: U wish.
Piper: Don’t pretend like u don’t miss me. I might not be some sweet, little, innocent freak, but I do have my perks, something u used to take advantage of every time we were alone.
Me: Things change. I don’t want that anymore.
Piper: Yeah, right. Every guy wants only that.
Me: Every guy who’s a jerk does.
Piper: Whatever. I was just messaging you so we could make plans for when you’re going to pick me up and make our pre-dance plans. We better do something amazing. No stupid dinner or anything cheap like that.