Two Weeks Later...
"Pia, are you sure you want to go alone?" My mom hovered in the foyer as I slipped my jacket over my shoulders.
"I'm sure," I sighed, pulling the small bronze zipper up as far as it would go. I slipped my feet into my Hunter Boots and turned back to my mother. "Besides, I can't imagine it'll take long."
Mom stepped forward and grasped my shoulder with a tight grip. Her lips thinned as her eyes flicked over my face. I stared back, keeping my features calm. After a moment, she nodded resignedly and patted my cheek.
"Just call if you need anything." She smiled sadly and wrapped her arms around herself.
Walking out my parents' front door, the late February air smacked me in my face. For the last two years, I'd spent most of the winters in Vancouver. I liked to think that I'd kept my strong northern blood, but as I raced to the truck, I wished I was back in the milder weather of southern British Columbia.
Vancouver winters didn't sting your skin or send a chill through your body that settled in your bones. Hell, it didn't even snow there half the time. I'd grown up here in O'Hara, braving the freezing weather and loving a good four-foot snow dump. But being back was definitely a shock to my system.
I let out a shaky puff of air as I climbed up in my dad's old truck and dug into my purse for the keys. The chill vibrated through my fingers and it took a moment to turn the key into place. I sighed in relief when the old motor rumbled to life and I quickly turned all the dials to blast hot air.
Driving these streets was second-nature to me; I knew where every pothole was and every school zone. I'd spent my entire childhood staring out the window on the way to Sophia's house. First, from the backseat of my parent's vehicles, then through the front windshield when I drove myself.
The lack of thinking that it took to navigate myself there was dangerous. My chest squeezed as the thoughts I'd been keeping at bay seeped into my brain. I'd driven this route a million times, but it was always going to Soph. I'd get that little zing of excitement as I wondered what adventures we'd get up to. It didn't even matter if the adventure was buying too much candy and binging reality tv; it was always a blast with us.
But that zing was gone. In its place was pure dread. Dread that I'd pull into her driveway, walk through her house, and no matter how hard I looked, she wouldn't be there.
Tears welled at the bottom of my eyes and I clenched my jaw to keep control. This was not the time. I'd had my time to lose it. To scream at my mother that she was wrong—that there had been a mistake. To call Sophia's cell a million times, whole-heartedly believing she'd pick up and laugh at me for falling for the world's worst joke.
The tears had come when I finally realized she wouldn't answer and they hadn't stopped for two weeks.
I sucked the dry air from the dusty heaters through my nose and controlled my breathing. I couldn't show up at the Evans' house crying. That wasn't fair to them, and it especially wasn't fair to Finn. For everything that I had been feeling, I knew they'd been experiencing it ten times worse.
I pulled into the driveway next to a sleek black car. It's shiny silver rims only called more attention to the rusty edges of this truck. Taking a moment to look at myself in the rearview mirror, I assessed my appearance.
My eyes were dry but set deeply in puffy purple shadows from lack of sleep. Dark, unkempt strands of hair fell around my face and accentuated the pale pallor of my skin. I looked rough, but I didn't look sad, and for now, that would have to be good enough.
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Going Full Throttle
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