Page 3 of Broken Promises

I get up from my bed and move to my mostly packed suitcase. On top of all the clothes is a picture of me with my parents at my kindergarten graduation. I’m in a dark blue graduation gown, the cap slightly skewed on my head, standing in front of my parents. My dad’s arm is slung around my mom’s slight shoulders. We’re all grinning at the camera. My dad was dark where my mom was light. Dark hair to her blonde. Brown eyes to her green. He was also twenty-four years older than her, so he looks more like a grandparent. Tears start to form in my eyes as I look at the happy family I barely remember.

“What if I get sick?” I whisper into my phone.

“Don’t say that!” Declan shouts. “You’re not getting sick, Willa. You’re going to become the most famous and badass lady drummer. You’re going to live a long and happy life. Probably marry some bastard I’ll hate and have a truckload of children.”

“It could happen, Dec.” My mom had what my dad would simply call a weak immune system. It wasn’t until later, after he passed, that I found her death certificate. She died from complications of type 1 diabetes. That’s all it said. A quick Google search let me know it could be hereditary.

“Yeah, and I could take a skate to the carotid or end up in a plane crash or choke on a fry while eating alone in my apartment.”

“Don’t say things like that!” I yell at him. He just hums in response, and I sigh. “I get it. Don’t mention dying and leaving you.”

“Best friends forever and ever and ever, remember?” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice.

“I was ten when I phrased it like that,” I grumble.

“Still stands. You’re my best friend, and I will not let you die.”

I roll my eyes. Not even the great Declan Monroe can stop death. I’m about to tell him as much, but there’s suddenly a lot of commotion coming from his end.

“I’ll be right there,” he says to whoever is in the room with him. “I have to go, Princess. It’s Finn’s turn to drive to practice, and he might have a stroke if we’re not at least ten minutes earlier than everyone else.” Declan’s roommate, Finn, is an anxious guy from what I’ve been told. So I’m not surprised being late gets to him.

“Maybe you can use that extra time to get your ass off the second line,” I say.

He barks out a laugh of surprise. “You should’ve been a coach.”

“I do love making grown men cry.”

He laughs and grumbles something to Finn. “Talk to you soon, Princess.”

“Thanks for talking me off a ledge,” I say quietly.

“Anything for my best friend forever and ever and ever.”

I snort and hang up on him before he’s in even more trouble with his roommate.

“Hurry up, Willa!”

I flip Cal off as I stand in the doorway of my childhood home. It’s not like I won’t be back. We’re flying to LA for a month to record our first album. We all refused to move out there in case something developed with Ezra here.

I own this home now, with its worn hardwood floors and flowery wallpaper. The large black sectional taking up most of the room that I spent a lot of my time watching movies with Belle on. My dad died a month after I turned eighteen. I graduated from high school as an eighteen-year-old orphan. Kind of a depressing start to the rest of my life. As I play with the ends of my newly purple hair, I take a deep breath and shut the door.

I take out my phone to text Declan as I walk to the limo taking us to the airport.

Is it weird that leaving my house right now feels a lot more final than it should?

Hockey Boy

One door closes, another one opens, right?

Yes? But I’m still going to live here.

Don’t remind me.

Declan was hoping we’d be on the same coast once we signed the recording contract. We haven’t seen each other in two years. He would’ve come home for my dad’s funeral, if I had told him. I didn’t because I didn’t want him to do anything to risk his career. He’s still a little mad about that one.

I’m nervous.

You’re going to kill it. I’m proud of you no matter what, Princess.

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