Sierra gave her a watery smile.
“For some reason, you hide that. Don’t. Be proud of who you are.” Then Rory laughed.
“What?”
“I just realized I’m telling you to act like a McKay.”
Tears shimmered in Sierra’s eyes again.
What was up with that?
“You don’t need a pack of friends, okay? If you have one good friend, one you can talk to, one who can talk to you, one you have fun with…then count yourself blessed. There are a lot of lonely people in the world who don’t even have that, to say nothing of all the people you have in your life who love you. The McKays may annoy me to no freakin’ end, but if you called any of them and told them you were having troubles, they’d all be there for you in a heartbeat. I think you know that.”
A full minute passed before Sierra spoke. “So if you were me, Rory, what would you do?”
“I know what I wouldn’t do.”
“What?”
“Let Boone West or the memory of Boone West f**k up my life any more than he already has. Move on. Use his leaving as a chance to make yourself stronger, not let it weaken you further.”
“You sound just like your mom.”
“And that is the best compliment you could ever give me.”
Sierra paced in her room after her conversation with Rory. She hadn’t seen her dad since the blowup yesterday morning and she missed him.
You’ll miss him a lot more if you move to France.
As soon as he’d walked out, telling her that he didn’t want to deal with her, Sierra knew she’d screwed up bad. Like usual, she’d said the first shitty thing that popped into her head. Lashing out because she hurt. Knowing exactly to what to say to her dad to make him hurt. Twisting the circumstances—not telling her dad the real reason she wanted to leave because he wouldn’t understand.
After what’d happened with Boone, she’d spent the whole night cursing him, cursing herself, cursing this stupid town. She’d called her mom and cried for over an hour, telling her about Boone—things she’d never told anyone. And her mom had been so sweet, not offering some snarky advice but really listening to her. Then her mom urged her to visit her in France, not in her usual manipulative way, but because she missed her daughter and then Sierra couldn’t see anything beyond just getting the hell out of Wyoming.
Her mom had no idea she’d given her dad an ultimatum. Now she’d dug herself into a hole. She couldn’t march into her dad’s office and say, “Just kidding! I don’t want to go back to Arizona… By the way, what’s for supper?”
This time she’d gone beyond crying to get her way. This time her rash response was having life changing repercussions because hers wasn’t the only life that would be affected.
She flopped on the bed and stared at the ceiling.
Every sickening thing Rory had thrown at her was true. But Rory was mistaken if she believed Sierra hadn’t already recognized those nasty truths about her childish behavior. But she was stuck. She couldn’t talk to her dad. And she was so embarrassed by what she’d said and done that she just wanted to hide in her room and hope all this shit blew over.
It’d serve her right if her dad called her bluff and shipped her off to France.
Her mom would be happy. She’d sent Sierra three emails in the last day, begging her to come and stay in Paris. One thing she hadn’t lied about during the big blow up was that she missed her mom. Yes, sometimes her mom acted ridiculously self-centered—now Sierra understood where that trait came from in her own knee-jerk responses—but other times, her mom was thoughtful, honest and helpful and she understood her in ways that her dad never would.
Divorce sucked. It’d turned her dad completely against her mom. He always pointed out her mother’s worst qualities and didn’t see her good side. He claimed she didn’t have a good side but it was there. Maybe Sierra wished it were there more often, but it was there.
Her stomach growled. She hadn’t eaten anything except French fries and a bag of chips she’d found during her packing frenzy. But she was too much of a chickenshit to go into the kitchen in case she ran into Rielle. What could she possibly say to her after what she’d done? Thinking about it made her sick to her stomach all over again.
Her cell phone buzzed on her desk and she rolled to her feet. Why was Marin was calling her? “Hello?”
“What the f**k, Sierra? I get a text from you that says you’re moving? What’s that bullshit about?”
“What? I didn’t send you a text!”
“Uh, yeah you did. Two hours ago. It says, and I quote, please try and talk me out of moving away forever.”
Rory. That sneaky bitch. She’d asked to see Sierra’s iPhone under the pretext of buying one and used it to send Marin a text.
“So tell me what’s going on.”
“It’s a big mess, Marin. It’s my fault and I don’t know where to start. I don’t know if I can fix it.” She started to cry again. “I just…”
“Stop crying. Get in your car and meet me at the football field.”
Sierra sniffled. “What? I thought you were at your grandma’s?”
“Do you really think I could stay there after my best friend texted me that she’s moving away? I oughta bitch slap you for even thinking I wouldn’t care.”
That brought tears to her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“I still may bitch slap you. And you cannot move away. We have plans for junior year, remember?”
“What? Uh. No. I think you made plans.”
“Which always includes you, duh. Anyway, get to the football field.” The line cut out but Marin’s next words were loud and clear. “Friends help each other out. They listen to each other. They’re there for each other. Whatever happened…we’ll find a way to fix it.”
Sierra didn’t get her hopes up about that, but she snuck out of the house and drove into town anyway.
Chapter Forty
Gavin needed someone to talk to.
He wasn’t quite sure why Vi was the first person who’d come to mind. Maybe because her kids were grown and she’d lived through the turbulent teen years. Maybe because she’d listen and offer her unvarnished advice.
Or maybe because she’s your mother.
She met him on the porch. She wore a straw hat, her World’s Greatest Grandma sweatshirt from Sierra and jeans—which shocked him. He’d never seen Vi in jeans.