Page 9 of I Wish I Would've Warned You

“That’s amazing.” I feign excitement.

“Right? So after you eat breakfast, go ahead and get packed.”

I nod, even though I never really unpacked.

“Where are we going now?” I ask.

“Across the bridge to a suburb right outside New York,” she says. “It’s about an hour away, but it’s a beautiful place you can invite your friends to see, so you won’t lose complete touch.”

Right… “Is it a hotel or a motel?”

“Neither.”

“An apartment?”

“Nope, it’s not that either.” She pauses for several seconds. “It’s a house!”

“Really?” My eyes widen. “How big is it?”

“Huge.” She stretches her arms wide. “It has an outdoor pool, a garden, and a library!”

“How?” I arch a brow.

“What do you mean ‘how,’ Emily?”

There’s no nice way to say: Your credit is shot to hell, mine is too because of you, we don’t have money, and we can barely afford an apartment complex with a shared pool, so how the hell are we affording a HOUSE?

“I mean…” I clear my throat and go with the softer option. “It just sounds too good to be true.”

“Well, it’s not.” She beams. “It’s all our dreams coming true, because it’s a real house... My boyfriend asked us to move in with him!”

So, it is too good to be true.

“The ‘Aidan’ guy you just started seeing?”

“I’ve been seeing him since we first moved here, Emily.” She clasps my hand. “He came into the diner every day for two weeks just to see me. I told you he’s taken me on the best dates of my life.”

A lump rises in my throat.

My mom falls hard and fast, and our lives always revolve around whoever she’s dating—or not dating. It’s been like this since I was born—since she was barely older than I am now.

“I’ve been to his place tons of times and you’re going to love it.” She’s still talking. “When he found out where we were staying, he said no woman he loves should live in a motel. He demanded that we move in with him.”

“How thoughtful.” I swallow the lump and mentally repeat the lines that keep me grounded.

Your gap year will be over soon. You’ll be going to college. You’ll be somewhere safe, somewhere semi-permanent.

Her phone suddenly buzzes, and she drops my hands.

“This is him!” she squeals, darting into the bathroom like a teenager. She slams the door, and just like that, my appetite vanishes.

I reach into my purse and pull out my “Forever Moving Checklist” notepad.

Stuffing shirts into one of my duffel bags, I double-check my sweaters and make a mental note to buy new bras and panties.

“He’s so excited to meet you.” My mom steps out of the bathroom, her whole face glowing. “This is going to be amazing!”

I can’t fake another smile, so I remain focused on packing and count out my pairs of jeans.

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