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— 𝐈𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 anything that could make being in a place one doesn't belong more bearable — it was a friend.
And Willow had that. He came in the shape of one Embry Call; a silly, kind-hearted, wonderful boy that always seemed to know what to say to Willow — no matter the situation.
He knew how to make her laugh when she felt like she was on top of the world, how to open up when she was brooding in the depths of rage, and how to let it all out on the days when her eyes just weren't strong enough to keep the tears at bay.
She'd spill everything she was feeling, he'd comfort her, and then he'd make her crack at least a small smile before buying her a popsicle; because she claimed that ice cream was a treat meant for moping — and she didn't mope.
She didn't.
It happened to be one of those days — not to the surprise of Willow. She'd known since the moment she woke up, that the day was not going to be a good one.
It was the one-year anniversary of her parent's death, and she was stuck sitting in English class listening to Mr.Boshard drone on about Shakespeare and how his writing cultivated the evolution of literature in more ways than he could even begin to explain.
By the time the period was over, she didn't know if she was overcome with near tears for finally being free of the god-forsaken class, or because of the much more looming, prominent issue at hand.
The result was identical no matter which reason she tried to supply herself with, and by the time Embry found her — she was an absolute mess.
"Come on, Willa-bear. Let's take a mental health day, yeah?" He wrapped his arm around her shoulders as she nodded, making sure to avoid eye contact with anyone; hoping no one could tell she was crying.
"Maybe we can talk about it on the way to the store, hm?" Embry whispered softly, gently prying to let her know she'd have to talk to him eventually.
Whenever she was ready.
Willow was ready much sooner than she thought she'd be, but she reminded herself that this was Embry. Her boy would never hurt her, and she knew she could open up to him about how she was feeling.
So she did.
"It's so hard being here without them, Em. I just-there are so many things I could've done differently that would mean they were still here." She ignored the way Embry shook his head and continued.
"Maybe if I'd suggested eating something else other than pizza or if I had just cooked dinner instead that night, then we wouldn't have gotten into that car and-and crashed. And they wouldn't be dead-" She broke down more, and Embry pulled off to the side to look at her.
"Listen to me, Willa-bear. This is not your fault. I know you don't believe that, but I promise you — your parents are looking down at you right now and they do not blame you. So don't blame yourself. You did nothing wrong."
And Willow cried some more, but she felt the ache ease a little, and she fell into the waiting arms of Embry. Didn't move until her tears dried, and then she smiled for the first time that day.
"Thank you, Em. I don't know what I'd ever do without you."
Embry smiled, starting the truck and pulling back onto the road as he replied. "Luckily you'll never have to find out."
