Chapter 35
Morella and I are half-buried in blankets on my bed, the remnants of microwave popcorn, candy and bowls that once held ice cream between us.
The Sunday evening light spills through the window in warm slants, but my chest still feels heavy.
I’m exhausted, even though I’ve done nothing all day but sit here.
“I still can’t believe you yelled at him,” I murmur, tracing a wrinkle in the sheet.
Morella flips onto her side to face me. “You say that like I lost my mind.”
“You threw a glass, Morella.”
She shrugs, totally unapologetic. “It didn’t hit anyone.”
I laugh softly, but my stomach turns anyway. “Is he okay?”
“Don’t ask me if he’s okay,” she says, brows furrowing. “Are you okay?”
I hesitate. “I think so.”
Morella narrows her eyes at me, like she’s scanning for lies. “Liv, he made you feel like trash. On your birthday. For something you didn’t even do. I’m not gonna pretend like that’s ok.”
“It wasn’t exactly on my birthday.” I tell her.
“It was close enough.” She barks back.
“I just… I don’t want it to mess up things between you and him.”
“It won’t,” she says immediately. “I love my brother, but he’s not above consequences. And frankly, he needed to be brought down a few pegs.”
I smile, touched by how fiercely she defends me. “You’re terrifying when you’re angry.”
“That’s what keeps me pretty,” she smirks.
Before I can respond, my dad yells up the stairs.
“Liv! You got a package!”
Morella and I glance at each other.
“I didn’t order anything,” I say, confused.
I get up and lean into the hallway. “I didn’t order anything, Dad!”
“Well, come down and get it anyway!”
Morella groans dramatically, throwing a pillow off the bed. “If it’s some haunted doll, I swear.”
I roll my eyes and motion for her to follow me. “Let’s go solve the mystery, Scooby Doo.”
We shuffle down the stairs, socks slipping a little on the wood floor. I round the corner into the foyer, expecting a box on the floor, or maybe a package on the table.
But instead…
My dad stands facing the front door, back to us.
“Dad, I'm telling you I didn’t order anything.” I tell him as I step closer.
He turns to me his arms crossed. “Yeah, well, I still think it’s yours.” He steps to the side and…
“No freaking way.”
Standing in the doorway, same beat-up hoodie, same tired sneakers, same wild grin like he knows exactly what kind of chaos he’s just caused.
My whole body goes still and then I scream.
“EVAN!”
I launch myself at him before my brain can fully catch up.
He laughs as I throw my arms around him, and he catches me mid-jump, spinning slightly under the force of it.
“Hey, candy cane,” he says into my shoulder.
“You’re here! What the hell, how are you here?!” I pull back to see his face, eyes wide and stinging with tears. “Did something happen? Are you okay? How did you? When did you? Evan, I swear if this is some dream I’m gonna punch something!”
“Liv!” he says, laughing through it. “One question at a time, damn.”
I’m shaking. Grinning. Crying. Everything all at once.
“I—what—just—start talking!” I demand, laughing as I smack his chest lightly.
“Alright, alright.” He sets me down gently. “So. After your birthday, I couldn’t stop thinking about how far away I was. It sucked. You were crying and laughing on the phone and I just… I couldn’t handle it anymore.”
My breath catches. “So you came all the way out here?”
“I started doing odd jobs,” he says, scratching the back of his head. “Cleaning up at gas stations. Stocking overnight shifts. Delivering groceries. Whatever I could get. Every time I made enough money, I bought the next bus ticket.”
I blink at him, stunned. “You worked your way across the country?”
“Took me through Arizona, New Mexico, Oklahoma... I spent two nights in a gas station storage room in Texas.” He shrugs. “But it got me here.”
I cover my mouth with my hands, heart breaking open. “That’s insane. You did that for me?”
“I did that to stop being without you.” he says.
I throw my arms around him again, burying my face in his hoodie.
“Morella,” I say, my voice breathless. “This is Evan. Evan, this is Morella.”
She walks forward slowly, still stunned. “You’re the Evan?”
“That’d be me,” he says, reaching out to shake her hand. “The myth. The legend. The cupcake recipient.”
She laughs, and I exhale, soaked in joy.
“I’ve heard so much about you,” she says.
“Oh, no pressure then,” he jokes, giving me a mock glare. “You telling my secrets?”
I grin. “Only the ones that make you look good.”
“Damn. So none?”
We both laugh, and something inside me finally lets go.
“Alright, kids,” Dad calls from the dining room. “Dinner’s on the table!”
Evan’s stomach growls so loudly I swear I feel it vibrate through the air. “Oh my god, yes. I haven’t eaten anything but vending machine trail mix in two days.”
As we walk toward the dining room, I glance at him sideways. “Wait… where are you staying?”
“Uh,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “At a motel. It’s not bad exactly, just… questionable.”
Dad cuts in immediately from the head of the table. “You’re not staying in a motel.”
Evan stiffens. “Sir, I wasn’t trying to—”
“We have plenty of rooms upstairs,” Dad says, waving him off. “Or, if you want your own space, the pool house is open. Your choice.”
Evan blinks, stunned. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“Thank you,” he says, voice suddenly quieter. “I… that means a lot.”
“It’s nothing,” Dad says. “You’re family.”
I watch Evan swallow hard and nod. His hands shoved into the front pocket of his hoodie, but I know that look on his face. That mix of disbelief and gratitude and not knowing what to do with kindness when it arrives unannounced.
I reach under the table and squeeze his knee. He looks over at me and smiles and I smile back.