Page 7 of The Star

“I’m going to miss you, Lo,” Vanessa says from behind me, her arms falling around my shoulders.

“You hoodlums can come visit me in my new fancy town.” I chuckle as I put my hands on her forearms to return the backwards hug.

Giuliana snorts next to me sarcastically but doesn’t say anything. I give her a look as if to say,what?But she just shakes her head and takes a hit off her cigarette.

“Lo!” Austin calls from where the guys are hanging out, pulling my attention. He waves a hand in acome heremotion, so I slide from the table and head in their direction.

Once I reach him, he slips his hands around my waist, pulling me flush against his body. “I got you a going away present.”

I laugh. “Oh, yeah?”

He presses his hips into mine. “Oh,yeah.”

I laugh harder, my shoulders shaking. I push his arms from around my waist and take a step back, his dark eyes following my every move.

“C’mon, Lo, you’re moving away. You’re not gonna let me hit it one last time?” He gives me that playboy grin.

“I am.” I step forward again, putting my mouth right at his ear. “Just not here.”

* * *

“Ready?”

My dad appears from thin air, surprising me as I stand in my empty childhood bedroom. My chest is heavy while I stare at the empty walls where my decorations used to hang, the carpet that has a stain from the night Giuliana and I had Four Lokos for the first time, and the empty closet that once housed my clothes.

I’m sad and overwhelmed – but most of all, I’m angry. Angry that this nightmare has become reality.

“No, but does that matter?” I answer my father, turning to look at him so he can see my watery eyes.

He puts a hand on my shoulder. “This is going to be good for us, Logan. Sara is really excited to meet you. She even decorated your room for you already.”

I don’t say anything else, I just walk past my dad, letting his hand drop from my shoulder and heading outside. I turn to say a silent goodbye to my life, my house, my mom, then I walk to the moving truck and get in the passenger’s seat.

After a quiet and awkward forty minutes, my dad is slowing the truck as we pull up to a guardhouse that sits just before big, black iron gates. My dad rolls the window down, smiling at the pudgy faced guard as he steps out. “Hi, Gary Briar, going to 3211.”

The guard nods. “Welcome back, Mr. Briar. Go right in.”

My dad turns to me as the gate slides open slowly, winking like he’s the coolest dude to ever walk planet earth. I just give him a tight, closed-lipped smile so I don’t rain on his parade.

I put my attention back out my window and watch as mansions pass us by. Jesus Christ, I’m deep in the rich life now. Some of these houses are as big as Franklin High, making my mouth hang open in shock and awe.

I scoff under my breath at one that’s particularly large, but it gets caught in my throat when my dad pulls the truck into the driveway.

“No way,” I whisper, sitting straight up in my seat to look out of the front windshield. My dad either doesn’t hear me, or ignores me, because he doesn’t say anything.

The driveway seems like it goes on for miles, the pavement surrounded by greenery. I try to peek through the breaks in the shrubs and trees, but my head is spinning too fast to catch anything of importance.

We get to the end of the driveway, which comes to a perfect circle around a large fountain with cream stone statues decorating it.

My mind can’t seem to catch up with my eyes, because I’m not comprehending anything that I’m seeing. This can’t be where we’re moving to, unless Sara is like… the president’s daughter.

Okay, it isn’tWhite Housebig, but it’s definitely not what we’re used to in Franklin. The house is a massive cream and black structure. It’s modern, making it seem more inviting than I thought it would be.

My dad puts the truck in park once we roll to a stop just outside the front doors, then he turns to look at me with a smile lighting up his face.

“Dad…” I start but fall silent when I catch the look in his eyes.

He’s beaming, his eyes filled with hope and joy. I lose the confidence to say what I’m thinking, unable to crush him no matter how angry I may be. It just doesn’t feel very nice at this moment.