Page 45 of Where the Little Birds Are (Little Bird Duet 2)

Zach looks over my shoulder as I flip through the different crafts she creates. My fingers still when I turn to a picture of an origami bird—blue, just like the one I have. My lips part as I grip the page, crinkling it in my grasp.

“You made this?”

Zach gently takes the binder from me before I can damage the page any more than I already have.

The woman glances at the page. “Oh, yes. A boy around your age asked me to make a custom one for his girlfriend. It was the sweetest thing.”

I hear Zach cuss under his breath as he closes the binder and passes it back to her. She accepts it with an easy smile, unknowing of the sick feeling in my stomach. I try to brush it off, but it settles until I feel the familiar threat of tears rising.

“We’ll be back, Mary,” Zach tells the woman, draping an arm around my shoulder and steering us away before I can start crying.

Sniffing back tears, I whisper, “Sorry. I know you probably think I’m being stupid. It’s just been…” Not having words to describe what it’s been like, I just shrug. “Have you heard from him at all?”

We walk over to a table of refreshments where he grabs us water. “No. I honestly don’t think it’s personal, Kinley. He hasn’t spoken to anyone from what I know. Especially if you haven’t heard anything.”

It’s been almost two months. How could he just ghost me? Us? It doesn’t make sense to me after I cheered him on all this time. Thinking back to what I wrote in my notebook, I think, stupid. I’m so stupid.

Thanking him for the water, we walk over to another table and look around at the jewelry. It’s a lot of beautiful bead work that has me running my fingers over the various bracelets.

“I’d buy you something if I had any money to spend,” he says sheepishly, scratching his jaw. “I’ve been saving up for textbooks.”

I smile at him the best I can. “That’s sweet, but I don’t expect you to buy me anything. Plus, it makes sense to spend what you have on college stuff.”

We walk away from the jewelry and to another booth covered in candles. He picks one up and sniffs it, making a screwed face that I can’t help but laugh at. He shoves it in my face, causing me to wince at the strong scent permeating the air.

Moving his hand away, he sets it back down and does the same with a few others. “You should see the price list for some of the books I’m required to read. It’s ridiculous.”

“Are you excited for classes to start?”

He passes me a purple candle. “I’m looking forward to playing on their football team. Not so much on the classes.”

Grinning, I read the lilac label on the bottom of the candle. It’s Mom’s favorite scent, so I dig for some money and pass it to the man behind the table. He passes me the change and puts the candle in a little bag for me to take.

We walk side by side down rows of tables covered in pamphlets and business cards. “My parents are trying to get me to apply. I haven’t decided if I am or not.”

“What would you study?”

The guidance counselor asked me the same thing. He went on a ten-minute rant about there always being something to learn. It seems pointless to go into debt for something I’m not set on.

“I’m not sure. English?”

“Would you keep writing?”

“It’s all I want to do,” I answer instantly, finding it easier to divulge that information to Zach. He isn’t worried about my future like my parents, so he’s not going to tell me about the necessity of a backup plan.

“Then do it.”

We stop at a booth with custom signs plastered everywhere. “I’m not sure it’s that easy. I get why my parents want me to get an education, but…”

Zach stares at something closest to him before quickly peeling his eyes away. “Hey, let’s go over—”

Eyeing his dodgy expression, I look around him at a metal sign hanging on a rack where the vendor stands. My lips tilt downward when I see the cutout birds next to black scripted font that says spread your wings, little bird.

He clears his throat. “I think I saw someone selling yarn over there. It looked very … soft.”

Unable to stop my laugh before it bubbles out of me, I peel my eyes from the unfortunate sign and stare at Zach. “Yarn? Do you secretly knit sweaters or something in your spare time? I won’t judge if you do. I’ll just need evidence.”

He grumbles and guides us away.

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