Page 25 of No Place Like Home

I didn’t need that kind of attention in my life, to wear something that didn’t exist. I didn’t know why, but I reached out for it today. Wrapping it around my waist, I tried not to stare too hard at the dandelions when the light hit the holographic material.

Once I was ready, I opened the door and headed outside to where people were setting up to watch the game. Usually, games weren’t such a big deal, but when the Packers played against Quincy's team, you bet your ass everyone in town was glued to a TV.

Everyone except for me.

“Hey, Jessamine.” Blake grinned as he passed me in the hallway on the way to the closet by the bathroom, where we stored toilet paper and handtowels.

“One of these days, I will kill you.”

There was an audible gasp behind me. When I turned around, I almost groaned. Of course, Avery was at my house on game day.

“Given your history, you shouldn’t joke like that.” She then turned to Blake. “I hope you lock your door at night.”

After she went into the bathroom, I glared at Blake. He had the decency to look sheepish.

“I didn’t invite her or Roger. They just tagged along with everyone else.”

“It’s okay. I was just leaving anyway.”

“No.” Blake took my hand. “Stay with us. Have a good time. Don’t run away, Jess.”

I removed my hand from his grip. “I promised Emma I would cover the diner.”

That seemed to be an acceptable answer. I walked out of my living room with a quick hello, not bothering to see if anyone answered back. I was desensitized to the way they made me feel. This was nothing new. It had been going on for years.

As I walked into the shop, a sense of comfort engulfed me. This place was still my sanctuary of sorts.

Raise your words, not voice. It is rain that grows flowers, not thunder.

- Rumi

Damn, people in town were deep. I’ll never admit it to anyone, but I loved the quote of the day. It sometimes gave me the strength to keep holding on. Other times it tore me down but in the best possible way.

“Hey, Ems,” I greeted her as I grabbed a yellow apron from one of the hooks.

Emma gave me a hug, and she got flour on my cheek in doing so. “Thank you for covering. I owe you one.”

“Anytime. You know that.”

Emma gave me a look. She eyed me and then the hoodie that I put on once I was in the car. I braced myself. Emma and Freya always gave me looks. Not as much as Juliet, but she just hid it better.

“I know. You’re one of the most loyal friends anyone could hope for, you know that?”

My throat felt funny. I couldn’t talk, so I nodded.

I went to make myself a latte, because espresso was life. It was going to be slow today. I needed caffeine to keep me awake.

“That’s an interesting sweater,” Emma mused.

I shrugged. “Everyone in town supports Q. I figured I’d do the same.”

“Funny, I remember reading an article on how there was a piece of his collection that never made it into production. Just a prototype. Apparently, it’s worth thousands.”

My hands shook as I went to grab a cookie.

Please tell me I’m not wearing something that could get me out of debt.

Not that I would sell this hoodie. Not because it had a special meaning, but because it was a gift. You didn’t sell a gift.

---