Page 84 of Whatever It Takes
I pick at a frayed strand on my backpack. “Yeah.”
“How come?”
“I guess…” I start, trying to wrap my head around why I did this. Why I ultimately decided to plant roots here instead of return to Caribou. “I decided that I’d do whatever it takes to be the person I want to be and not what everyone else wants me to be, even if it means hurting some people I love along the way.”
He stares far off as he drives. “Yeah…” He lets out a short breath. “I think I’m doing that too.”
I relax more. “Willow bada boom thirty-three,” I tell him.
He tilts his head at me. “Your username?”
“Yeah.”
“I like it, Willowbada boom.” He says it inThe Fifth Elementvoice. My chest swells.
It’s not every day you meet someone that understands the things you love, but somehow I’ve crossed paths with someone who really does.
18BACK THEN – September
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
GARRISON ABBEY
Age 17
“Ready?” I ask Willow.
“Ready.”
I open the door.
We step into the school, halls congested like most mornings. Instead of rushing to classrooms, friends huddle in groups by lockers or wander around, searching for a familiar face.
Willow walks in a diagonal line, almost inwards towards me. She avoids bumping into a few passing students.
“What’s your locker number?” I ask while she adjusts the strap of her backpack.
I almost set my hand on her shoulder, but instead I just let her hover close by. As soon as she unfurls her schedule, she hands the paper to me.
It’s a little damp, like her palms are sweating.
I’m not going to be a dick and mention it though.
I glance at the locker number with the code written out. “You’re over here, further down.”
She nods mechanically.
I understand the kind of nerves that just completely eviscerate you. Only I don’t feel them on the first day of school, or the second, or even the last. They hit me when I bike near my house. When I drive by. When I’m feet from the mailbox and then the front door.
When I step inside. Knowing my brothers are there.
They’re gone. They’re at college, I have to keep reminding myself.
Thank God.
“Sorry,” Willow apologizes in a whisper. I think towards me, but I realize that someone barely brushed against Willow’s arm on the way to a locker.
The girl shoots Willow a weird look, probably unsure of what she said.
