“I did?” I try to ignore the way flying dinosaurs have once again taken up residence in my stomach.
“Yeah, on the way to our room. He was one of the guys who nearly hit me in the face with the door. The really hot one out in front.”
I play dumb even though my heart is suddenly beating way too fast. “You mean the ones who completely ignored us?”
“Yeah.” She laughs. “Don’t take it personally, though. That’s just the way Jaxon is. He’s…angsty.”
He’s a lot more than angsty, if our conversation a little while ago is anything to go by. But I’m not about to bring up what happened to Macy when I don’t even know how I feel about it yet.
So I do the only thing I can do. I change the subject. “Thanks so much for setting up the room for me. I appreciate it.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it.” She waves it away. “It was no big deal.”
“I’m pretty sure it was a big deal. I don’t know that many companies that deliver ninety minutes outside of Healy, Alaska.”
She blushes a little and looks away, like she doesn’t want me to know just how much trouble she’s gone through to make me feel at home. But then she shrugs and says, “Yeah, well, my dad knows all the ones that do. It wasn’t a problem.”
“Still, you’re totally my favorite cousin.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m your only cousin.”
“Doesn’t mean you aren’t also my favorite.”
“My dad uses that line.”
“That you’re his favorite cousin?” I tease.
“You know what I mean.” She sighs in obvious exasperation. “You’re a dork; you know that, right?”
“I absolutely do, yes.”
She laughs, even as she crosses to the mini fridge next to her desk. “Here, drink this,” she says as she pulls out a large bottle of water and tosses it to me. “And I’ll show you the rest.”
“The rest?”
“Yeah. There’s more.” She crosses to one of the closets and pulls open the doors. “I figured your wardrobe wasn’t exactly equipped for Alaska, so I supplemented a little.”
“A little is an understatement, don’t you think?”
Lined up inside the closet are several black skirts and pants, along with white and black blouses, a bunch of black or purple polo shirts, two black blazers, and two red and black plaid scarves. There are also a bunch of lined hoodies, a few thick sweaters, a heavy jacket, and two more pairs of snow pants—none of which is in hot pink, thankfully. On the floor are a few pairs of new shoes and snow boots, along with a large box of what looks like books and school supplies.
“There are socks and thermal underwear and some fleece shirts and pants in your dresser drawers. I figure moving here is hard enough. I didn’t want you to have to worry about anything extra.”
And just like that, she manages to knock down the first line of my defenses. Tears bloom in my eyes, and I look away, blinking quickly in an effort to hide what a disaster I am.
It obviously doesn’t work, because Macy makes a small exclamation of dismay. She’s across the room in the blink of an eye, pulling me into a coconut-scented hug that seems incongruous here at the center of Alaska. It’s also strangely comforting.
“It sucks, Grace. The whole thing just totally sucks, and I wish I could make it better. I wish I could just wave a wand and put everything back the way it used to be.”
I nod because there’s a lump in my throat. And because there’s nothing else to say. Except that I wish for that, too.
I wish that the last words my parents and I spoke weren’t hurled at each other in a fight that seems so stupid now.
I wish that my dad hadn’t lost control of the car two hours later and driven himself and my mother off a cliff, plunging hundreds of feet into the ocean.
Most of all, I wish that I could smell my mother’s perfume or hear the deep rumble of my father’s voice just one more time.
I let Macy hug me as long as I can stand it—which is only about five seconds or so—and then I pull away. I’ve never particularly liked being touched, and it’s only gotten worse since my parents died.
“Thanks for—” I gesture to the bed and closet. “All of this.”
“Of course. And I want you to know, if you ever need to talk or whatever, I’m here. I know it’s not the same, because my mom left; she didn’t die.” She swallows hard, takes a deep breath before continuing. “But I know what it’s like to feel alone. And I’m a good listener.”
It’s the first time she’s actually used the word “die.” The first time she’s actually acknowledged what happened to my parents by name. The fact that she has makes it so much easier to say, “Thank you,” and mean it, even as I remember that Jaxon didn’t shy away from it, either. He might have been a jackass all the way around, but he called my parents’ death what it was. And didn’t treat me like I was going to shatter under the weight of one harsh word.
Maybe that’s why I’m still thinking about him when I should be writing him off for the jerk he is.
She nods, watching me out of worried eyes that only make me feel worse.
“I should probably get unpacked.” I look down at my suitcases with distaste. It feels like I just packed them. The last thing I want to do is empty them right now. Not when my electric-pink bed is calling me like a beacon.
“I can totally help with that.” She points at a door across the room. “Why don’t you go take a shower and get into your pajamas? I’ll check on the soup my dad said he sent up. Then you can eat, take some Advil, and get some rest. Hopefully, when you wake up, you’ll be better acclimated to the altitude.”
“That sounds…” I really do feel crappy, and a shower sounds amazing. As does sleep, considering I’ve been so nervous about the move that I haven’t gotten much in the last week or so.
“Perfect, right?” She fills in the blank.
“It really does, yeah.”
“Good.” She walks to her closet and pulls out a couple extra towels. “If you want to hop in the shower, I’ll get you some warm soup and hopefully, in half an hour, this whole day will feel a lot better.”
“Thanks, Macy.” I turn to look at her. “I mean it.”
A grin splits her face and lights up her eyes. “You’re welcome.”
Fifteen minutes later, I’m out of the shower and dressed in my favorite pair of pajamas—a Harry Styles T-shirt from his first solo tour and a pair of blue fleece pants with white and yellow daisies all over them—only to find Macy dancing around the room to “Watermelon Sugar.”