Page 25 of Where the Little Birds Are (Little Bird Duet 2)

“Dude’s weird.”

I shrug. “So are we. We just don’t bark.”

Corbin laughs. “Want to grab something to eat before we get some homework done? I can order us a pizza.”

“Twizzlers too?” My face brightens with anticipation of my favorite addiction.

Corbin stops. “When have I not gotten you Twizzlers when we go somewhere?”

“Well—”

He holds up his hand. “Beside that one time I almost forgot to grab them before we checked out. You didn’t even have to say anything before I snatched a package up from under the counter. I’m starting to think I should try cutting you off though. You’re obsessed.”

My hand goes to my chest. “That’s like trying to get you off caffeine. There will never be a day when I don’t consume my weight in Twizzlers, Corbin Callum. Remember that when you have to tailor my formal dress to fit me properly for the Oscars.”

His eyes light up as he leans down and kisses me softly. “We’re going to be the couple that the world can’t stop talking about one day, Little Bird. We’ll be famous, in love, and ready to conquer anything.”

I nibble on my bottom lip when I hear the L word before getting on my tippy-toes and pecking his lips. “Bribe me with Twizzlers, and I’ll be there.”

He guides us to his Jeep hand-in-hand.

He says we’ll be in love someday.

The flutter in my stomach says I’m already there.

The last few months of the school year pass by too quickly. Impending awareness of what comes after graduation lingered in every post-high school conversation I found myself in at lunch with Zach and Corbin. It was all they talked about while I sat there trying not to show how nervous it made me to know they’d be leaving.

But I was happy for them. Zach got accepted to a local college on a sports scholarship that he was excited about, and Corbin made plans with his acting coach about taking his career to the next step. He told me he had big plans that someone he worked with on the movie was helping him with but won’t tell me what. That makes my fear of what comes next worse.

I brush off all the wariness because it gets me nowhere. Instead, I focus on the sweat clinging to my forehead as I search the sea of forest green caps and gowns for the dark hair and silver eyes I’m here for. How many times has Corbin told me in the past two weeks that this isn’t the end? Every time we hang out it always boils down to my nerves getting in the way of having fun. I can’t focus on the movies we put in because all I think about is him, and when we do something intimate my mind gets lost in how I may not feel his touch for much longer. I bottle up every thought because there’s nobody I can voice it to without feeling like an idiot. My family would tell me I’m too consumed, and Corbin would tell me I’m overthinking.

I’m guilty of both.

Forcing myself away from the rabbit hole I’m quickly jumping down again, I lock away my worry and celebrate Corbin’s big day instead. The room is stifling hot from all the bodies crammed in to watch the commencement ceremony, but it’s worth it to see the bright expression on Corbin’s face as he locks eyes with me from where he’s positioned below.

Lifting my wrist, I point to the blue paper bird resting on it. He smirks and does the same, moving aside his long gown sleeve to reveal the white bird.

Mrs. Callum pats my knee and smiles as she listens to the last speaker give their mundane inspirational speech that I want nothing more than to fast forward through. She leans in and whispers, “That will be you next year, darling.”

Nibbling on my inner cheek, I watch the superintendent take the podium to begin handing out diplomas. When the guidance counselor confirmed I’d have the credits needed to graduate next year, Corbin took me to one of my favorite bookstores and bought me whatever I wanted to celebrate. He’d been proud because he used his first check from the movie.

We both celebrated our victories.

It was short lived when the dreadful life-after-high school conversation filled every dinner conversation following the news that I’d be graduating sooner. Gavin thought it was cool, but Mom kept asking what I planned on doing.

College has never been in my plans, no matter how many times I pretended to be a teacher when I was younger. Dreams change. Writing has been the endgame for a lot longer. But telling her that always leads to yet another meal where I shut down because I don’t want to share anything about myself that just leads to disapproval.

“You have to go to college, Kinley.”

“Gavin didn’t.”

“Gavin knew what he wanted to do.”

“I’ll be fine if I don’t go to college.”

And then she said it.

“If you don’t go to college the only thing you’ll accomplish when you’re older is how to flip the perfect burger.”

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