Ultraviolet ✔️

18.2

Chapter Eighteen, Part Two

We're headed toward Massachusetts, which isn't more than a couple of hours out of New York. It's well into the afternoon by this time, so we're probably going to arrive at his sister's by dinner.

"Where does she live?" I ask, growing tired of guessing based off of the road signs we pass.

"Boston," he replies. "She and her husband bought a house a few years back. Unfortunately, he took off a few months ago, so it's just her and the kids. It's fitting that we're both finally on the East coast. We grew up in Seattle, but were on separate coasts for the longest time."

"My mother lives near Boston," I mention casually, picking at my nails.

"Want to drop by for a visit?" He glances over at me, reading my reaction.

I shrug. "We haven't talked much lately. Not sure she'd be happy to see me."

"What do you mean? She's your mom, of course, she'd love to see you," he says.

"The last exchange we had was a year ago. It was a fight, to say the least, and it got pretty heated. I don't think she really wants to talk to me."

Joel considers this for a second. "Well, ultimately it's your choice, but I think it would be good for you to see her. And I'd like to meet her. Call me old-fashioned, but I think it's important to meet my girlfriend's mother."

It's sweet that he wants to get to know her, but I know how strained the relationship is on its own. Our last fight was because of college. Tuition and fees are high in New York, the extent of which I never anticipated. She didn't want me to leave home for a number of reasons, but I was stubborn, insisting that I had to go. Part of it was because of my visions. Our community was small, so seeing the death of every person I loved and had grown close to was almost unbearable. I figured a city like New York might be the place I could find hope.

It was an argument like no other. Yet, she still pays for my college and a share of the rent for my apartment. We talk sometimes, but never real conversations. She has no idea what I'm majoring in or even if I'm seeing anyone. We are more or less just ships in the night.

By the time we're in the suburbs of Boston, Joel and I are both exhausted. Though we haven't done much today, the past couple of days have been understandably rough. He takes his gun out of the dash and slides it into the back of his pants before we step out of the car.

His sister's house is a cute two-story, an older victorian with a big porch and a manicured lawn. A sprinkler is running as we walk up the path to the house, my leggings growing damp before I climb the creaky wooden steps up to the house.

Joel raises his fist to knock, but a short dark-haired girl throws the door open before he can. She's got her hair cropped short and layered, her knees stained by grass. Her eyes are just like Joel's: a bright, startling green. If I had to guess her age, I'd say she can't be much older than twelve.

"Uncle Joel!" she exclaims, throwing her arms around him.

"Hey, Avalon," Joel beams. "Wow! You've grown up so much since I last saw you!"

"Who's this?" Avalon asks when he releases her from the hug, head cocked at me.

"This is my girlfriend, Violet," Joel tells her. "Vi, meet Avalon, Mal's youngest."

"There are only two of us," Avalon reminds him. "And Daniel is only a year older."

Joel snickers. "Excuse me."

She steps out of the way so we can enter the house, closing the door behind us. Instinctively, I reach down to remove my shoes, which consist of some slip-on sneakers Joel got for me after he realized I was going barefoot.