I slip on my sandals and creep up the stairs, careful not to wake anyone. Ethan is lying curled in the corner, worn out from his stress — and the three episodes of that sci-fi series I insisted we watch, with brownies and ice cream, after he and Grady slouched back from the lake. I don’t know what happened, but it seems like things are OK between them again, a grudging kind of peace. It can only get better.
The route back to the B and B is pale in the early morning light, with birds singing in the trees and a glow from the sun still hanging low over the mountains. I breathe in the crisp air, trying to savor every step as if it’s my last.
Because right now, I think it is. I don’t know yet about the internship I’ll get here next summer, working with the tourism board to promote eco-friendly travel in British Columbia; I haven’t seen the small, cute apartment Mom and me will move to, or Dad’s place in Sweden, where I’ll spend Christmas, stringing sugar cookies to the tree and eating local smorgasbord. I don’t know yet about the new friends I’ll make in photography class, or how the Green Teens will fall into anarchy after Olivia handcuffs herself to Principal Turner and swallows the key, ranting about corporate control of the social studies syllabus.
No, all of that is still ahead of me, so I can’t help but feel sad as I let myself into the silent house, using the key hidden under the ceramic turtle on the porch. There’s debris in every room: cups stacked in haphazard towers, streamers, and partly deflated balloons. I retrieve my cell phone from my room, and, wrapped in that snug blanket of mine, I settle down on the back porch to make the call.
“Hi . . . Mom?” I can’t remember the last time I talked to her — really talked. Because I’m scared of what she’ll have to say, and of what will come after, when the talking’s done. I don’t know yet that everything will turn out OK, for all of us, but even so, I curl my legs up under me and brace myself for the future. I’ve faced down white-water rapids, a wild bear, and even Fiona this summer; I can do this.
“I’m ready for that talk.”