Grown(50)

“You sure this is a good idea?” she whispers.

“We already paid for it,” I shoot back. “Mom’s been making payments for months. We’re going.”

“Yeah, but maybe Daddy needs . . .”

“Daddy needs to watch the Littles while Mom works. And with the way things are looking with the strike we might not even be in Will and Willow next year.”

Shea freezes, realization gut-punching her. “But . . . are you going to be OK?”

“I’m fine,” I insist. “Really. Besides, I’m safe . . . with you.”

Her mouth cracks a little, eyes softening. As if she’s sorry for me. Which I can’t stand, but it’s better than her being mad at me.

“OK,” she concedes.

“Nice to have you back with us,” Aisha says, smiling as we climb into the van. “We gonna be the lit-est with a celebrity in our chapter.”

Creighton gives me a meek smile and a hey before jumping in the front seat.

“Hi, Creighton,” I say. “How’s stock club going?”

Creighton turns to me with a shy smile. “Um, it’s cool. We made five thousand last quarter.”

I decided to forgive Creighton. What he did was stupid. But not nearly as horrendous as Korey. Plus, he saved me, sending Derrick my way. I might have still been in that house.

“Bruh, she paid her dues. Who cares if she hasn’t been to a meeting in the last few months?” Sean snaps. Everyone in the van turns around to see him and Malika arguing in the driveway. “Get over yourself. She’s coming!”

The Will and Willow National Teen Conference is like a giant Teen Cluster. Once a year, chapters from across the country gather in a select city. A grand finale before summer break. Our chapter is staying at the Renaissance Hotel near Boston Harbor, about three blocks from the convention center, where the breakout sessions, panels, and speeches are being held. We’re expected to dress business casual, like professionals to be. Skirt suits, blazers, ties, heels, and hard-bottoms.

But . . . I don’t exactly look ladylike, crawling around our hotel room on all fours in my charcoal-gray suit.

“What are you doing?” Shea snaps.

“Lost the back of my earring. I dropped it somewhere.”

I use my phone flashlight to check under the bed.

“We were supposed to be downstairs ten minutes ago!”

“Yeah, but I can’t go without earrings. They’ll say I look like a boy!”

The room phone rings.

“Ugh, it’s probably Ms. Evens wondering where we are,” She whines, crossing the room.

“Don’t answer it,” I shout, grabbing her wrist before she can reach the handle. “She’ll know we’re still in here. Just . . . head to the elevators, tell her I’m in the bathroom or something. I’ll meet you down there!”

She groans, throwing her hands up and exits.

Back on the floor, I search high and low. The phone rings again as I pat down the tight space between the nightstand and bed. A twinkle of gold catches my eye.

“Got ya!” I cheer.

The phone rings again, right in my ear. With a groan, I grab the receiver.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m on my way!”

“Come outside.”

My throat clenches shut at the sound of his voice.

Korey.

I jolt upright, muscles tensing, and turn to the door, miles away.

“I know you’re there, Bright Eyes. Come outside.”

Stiff as a board, I inch across the near-empty hotel lobby, biting the inside of my cheek, tasting blood. Everyone is already on their way to the convention center for the evening’s keynote.

Even if I call, no one would make it here fast enough to save me.

I’m spit outside by the revolving doors and can smell the salty water drifting from the bay, the convention center a few blocks away. Maybe I can make a run for it. Jump into the water and swim home.

“Enchanted.”

Another familiar voice. Tony.

I think of calling Shea, but I don’t want either of them near my sister. I’d give up my life first.

“This way,” he says, leading me down the block to a black truck. He drives around the corner to the underground parking, then down three levels.

There, a car I don’t recognize sits parked in the far back, engine running.

Tony opens the back door and shoves me inside. In an instant, I’m wrapped in Korey’s arms and my body turns to stone.

“Bright Eyes,” he coos. “Damn, I’ve missed you so much.”

I pull away from him, sliding on the red leather seats, squeezing myself to the door.

Korey’s black hoodie is pulled up. But even in the darkness of the back seat, I can see he’s hurt by the move.

“What . . . are you doing here?”

“I—I thought you’d be happy to see me. Here I am, come to save you again.”

I’m stunned to silence. Korey looks broken, shattered . . . older. And the part of my heart that loved him beats a little harder, despite how I willed it not to.

He hangs his head low.

“You left me,” he murmurs. “You promised you’d never leave me.”

“Korey, please,” I beg, trembling. “You have to let me go.”