Page 15 of Atlas

Willa and Georgia get their plates first and wait politely until everyone is served before they start eating. They share secret smiles with each other, like they’re just waiting to blow my cover over here. They’re the fastest friends to ever have existed.

Willa eats all her yams first and downs an entire glass of water before quickly washing them away with a large mouthful of ham.

I stare at her blatantly and she winks at me, wearing her best,there isn’t a yam that I’ve ever met who could best meexpression.

Honestly, I’m not sure that anythingcouldget the best of Willa.

Over the past year, we’ve grown close to the point where she’s shared some deeply personal things with me. I know that her mom was murdered in a drug deal gone wrong when she was ten and that Lynette raised her. I know they have different dads, which is why they have strikingly different features. I was the one she first confessed that she hated college and would rather be back working her job at a vintage clothing store in Seattle. We ditched class the same day and I took her out looking at realestate. She fell in love with the factory and since it had been sitting empty for so many years, I got a great deal.

I borrowed a hefty amount of money from my parents, but the largest chunk of cash came from my savings. I had a good amount of money set aside, hoping to buy Jodie the house of her dreams here in Hart. She just never found the right one.

I know now that it couldn’t exist because she never truly wanted to stay here.

Willa doesn’t know about any of that. I’ll never tell her. The old factory was the best way that money could have been spent.

I’d buy it and put all those hours into renovating all over again in a second, just to see her smile and hear her laugh all the way through it.

She’s been giving me weird looks ever since I came to and found my head in her lap, her touch sweeter and more invigorating than that water poured all over me. I was just lucky that I was in no position to pop a hard-on. It could have happened, given that I woke up staring down the swell of her breasts. She should have smelled sweaty and dusty from the barn, but the same tropical coconut vanilla and strawberry sweet scent still clung to her.

She’s never looked at me the way she did when I opened my eyes. Worry isn’t the right word. More like, if I wasn’t in the world, then she wouldn’t want to be either.

My mom clears her throat, a soft smile on her face that is a direct cue that she’s about to step straight back into the past. She likes to do that when Georgia and Clem are here, talkingabout old times. We all laugh about it, injecting our memories. It’s normally a fun time.

But Willa has never heard any of this.

And Georgia’s sassy look says that she’s going to share a few choice memories just for Willa’s benefit. My sister would never truly hurt me by sharing secrets or wounding me on purpose, but embarrassing childhood stories aren’t off limits. She knows I’ll laugh along with her in the end.

“You should have seen Simon,” Mom gushes. “When he was six years old, his grandma went into the nursing home here. My mom. Unfortunately, she had Parkinson’s, and it was so advanced by that time that she needed full-time care. She was scared to go, but she quickly learned to love it. She made lots of friends there and she wasn’t unhappy. There were people who had no family there, and so for Christmas, Simon wanted to make everyone a card so that every single person got a gift. He put a one dollar bill in each, even though it pretty much emptied out his whole piggy bank. It was the sweetest thing.”

“Mom. Stop.” I duck my head, my face uncharacteristically hot.

“Aww,” Willa sighs. “Thatissuper sweet. Even as a kid, you loved helping people.”

Mom nods, getting carried away. “That’s right. When he was ten, he had a few friends that couldn’t go to football camp because they didn’t have the money. He begged us to let him go out and do odd jobs around the neighborhood to raise money, and in the end, he made more than enough for them to all go.”

“Oh my god.” Willa fans her hand in front of her eyes like she’s going tocry.

Christ, she doesn’t often get teary eyed over anything. Willa is the kind of girl that would have been ridiculously popular in high school, but at the same time, never would have been cruel or unkind to anyone. People of all ages and walks of life would have loved her. Without being in the ‘it’ crowd, she would have made those girls obscenely jealous. She’s athletic and has told me how much she loved softball and volleyball growing up. She was also on her school’s debate and chess teams. She’s got the kind of body that would make women insanely jealous, and could put a man straight into the grave with just a single look of those cool blue eyes.

On the exterior, Willa is a lot of fun. She’s tough too and has the best wit and sense of humor. Underneath though, I know how soft she is. The waters just run deeper than she lets on.

“You were the one who found Kitty Sue in the alley on the way to school,” Georgia says, picking the story about our third cat. “You begged to be able to keep her. You were so sure that the answer would be no because we had two cats already. You begged for days and promised you’d pay all her vet bills and for her spay, which you did. Me and Clem felt so bad that you had to spend all your money that we bought you that video game that you’d been saving up for. Oh! And there was that time when those assholes were bullying that poor kid in Clem’s grade who was dyslexic and couldn’t read properly. You challenged them all to a fight after school. Four against one, and you still kicked their asses.”

“This is so embarrassing,” I say, hoping she doesn’t reveal any more childhood anecdotes.

“The point is, you have a soft, lovely heart,” Mom says. Thankfully, I think that we’re done talking about me, but thenshe turns to Willa. “Anyone would be lucky to treasure it. Through friendship, or more.”

My dad has been silent this whole time, but he nods sagely now.

They’re pretty much giving the parental stamp of approval on something that hasn’t happened and won’teverhappen. The quickest way to ruin a friendship is to catch feelings and not having her in my life would be a tragedy that I couldn’t bear.

I would die if I couldn’t see Willa, couldn’t talk to her, wasn’t held in her highest regard. She trusts me. I would never do anything to jeopardize that. Without her presence, my days would stretch endlessly on. I’d probably still be as numb as I was after Jodie left.

I’d be heartsick in ways that I didn’t even know could exist.

An uncomfortable level of confusion swamps my body, deadening my limbs and doing a number on my head. I’m sure it’s not related to residual sunstroke symptoms. The anxiety that is always riding at a low level, pumps up until my stomach spins and my palms grow slick, and I wonder if I’m going to pass out for the second time today and land face down in my dinner.

As Mom launches into some stories about Georgia when she was a baby, I notice Willa slanting me a funny look from under her lashes. She thinks that she’s been subtle today, constantly watching me when I’m not supposed to notice.

---