Chapter 5
five
BLAIR
Our new home is… underwhelming.
“This place is a shithole,” Reed grumbles under his breath.
My chest pinches, and I sigh. “Language.”
He’s right, though. This apartment looks nothing like the listing photos. The photos were bright and airy, with an updated kitchen and brand-new carpets. That’s not what we got. Our apartment has dingy, threadbare carpeting and a kitchen that was probably ugly even in the nineties.
At least it’s clean. Thank god for small mercies.
“Why don’t you pick which room you want?” I offer, hoping it’s enough to wipe the dejected look off my brother’s face. They’re the same size, and neither has an attached bathroom, so it really doesn’t matter which one I end up in.
Reed shrugs and trudges through the empty space toward the bedrooms. He wanders through both before choosing the one on the right side of the hallway.
“I’ll take this one, I guess.” His sad, dark eyes turn my way. “You sure you don’t mind?”
“No,” I say, closing the space between us and wrapping him in a hug.
One I need as much as he does. Ever since we got into the car to drive here, I’ve felt like an elephant has been sitting on my chest, restricting my breathing.
“I just want you to be happy.” Reed lets me hug him, but his arms don’t wrap around me in return.
They twitch at his side like dying fish on a pier.
“Not sure what there is to be happy about.” He detangles himself from me and surveys the empty, outdated apartment. “When will our stuff get here?”
My car is small, so we only brought the essentials.
The rest of it is in a moving truck. Remnants of our parents’ home and lives.
We couldn’t bring it all with us, because this apartment is far smaller than the house we grew up in.
We sold whatever we could and only kept what we’d need.
And some sentimental items I couldn’t bear to part with.
It was harder than I thought it would be watching strangers haul pieces of our past away.
When the young couple who bought my parents’ bedroom furniture came to pick it up, I actually cried.
Big, salty tears that streaked down my face and splattered my shirt.
Reed didn’t speak to me for two days after that.
Exhausted, I rub the back of my neck. “Everything is supposed to be delivered tomorrow. Do you want help setting up your air mattress?”
“No. I got it.” Reed rolls his eyes and grabs the box containing the twin-size air mattress and heads for his new room without another word. Guilt gnaws at my gut as I watch him go. When he slams the door, my shoulders slump.
I’m tired. So tired. And it’s not just from driving halfway across the country. No, this is a bone-deep exhaustion no amount of sleep will cure. Years of worry and stress are boulders compressing my spine.
My mind again wanders to Logan. How it felt to be in his arms. How the weight of him pressing down on me was grounding, not suffocating the way the weight of my responsibilities are.
I think about the way he made me feel beautiful for those few hours we shared, and how freeing it was to just be Blair.
Just a woman with desires and needs, not a sister thrust into the role of mother.
Just a twenty-five-year-old out having fun and living her best life.
Not a woman with an anti-anxiety prescription that needs to be filled and a bank account that will quickly dwindle down to dangerous levels.
My parents put a second mortgage on the house to help pay for my college, so there wasn’t as much equity in the home as I had hoped.
With a sigh, I rub my bleary eyes and will them to focus. There’s no time for a pity party. I have too much to do to get Reed ready to start at his new school and to get me ready to start my new job.
But first, I need to find my towel and toiletries and take a shower. Everything will feel easier when I’m no longer coated in sweat and grime from days of travel.
It has to.
“That’s everything, miss. Are you sure the couch is where you want it?” The shaggy-haired mover gives me a flirtatious smile. He’s probably about my age, and he’s cute enough, but I’m too drained to give him any real consideration. Sleeping on an air mattress is not restful.
Reed snorts and rolls his eyes before leveling me with a look that says, Is this guy for real?
Plastering a smile on my face, I nod. “It’s great. Thank you for everything. I’ll make sure I leave a glowing review.”
“Just doing our job,” Shaggy Hair says, his brown eyes twinkling as he flashes me a dimpled smile. He glances at his partner and, seeing that the older man isn’t paying any attention, moves half a step closer. “Listen, if you’re new in town, I’d be happy to show you around.”
Reed snorts again, and Shaggy Hair purses his lips. “Your son too. There’s lots of fun stuff to do around he—”
“Son?” Reed and I say at the same time. My brother looks disgusted by the idea. Me? I’m offended. Do I really look old enough to have a thirteen-year-old?
Ouch.
Shaggy’s attention pings between us. He frowns and opens his mouth—probably to clarify who Reed and I are to each other—when Reed cuts him off.
“She’s my older sister, bro. Gross.” And with that, Reed storms through the apartment and into his room. I flinch when he slams his door.
“Shit.” Shaggy’s tan cheeks flame pink, and he rubs the back of his head. “Sorry. I just…”
“It’s fine.” Not really. I’m absolutely going to stare in the mirror after this in search of wrinkles. “And I appreciate the offer, but we’re good. Thanks again for all your help.”
He may have stepped in shit, but Shaggy knows a brush-off when he hears one. Good. I’m too tired to be tactful for long. In one final act of ill-advised bravery, Shaggy writes his phone number on the box beside him before he and his partner leave me surrounded by piles of cardboard and silence.
“Right.” I sigh, searching for the boxes labeled kitchen. “Guess I’d better start unpacking.” I know better than to ask Reed for help while he’s sulking about the mom comment. And fine, maybe I’m sulking a bit too.
This doesn’t seem like the best start to our life in a new town, in a new state, in a whole new part of the country.
We haven’t seen much, but I can already tell the culture shock is going to be real.
California and the Midwest feel like two different worlds.
And we only have today to acclimate before I start my new job and Reed starts at his new school.
He’s not happy that he has to start three weeks into eighth grade, but he’ll adapt.
He always does. It’s a skill we’ve both had to hone since losing our parents in a freak house fire while they were away on a weekend getaway to celebrate their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. They were so excited for that trip.
I wish I could go back in time and demand they stay home.
With a head full of worries, I open the first box labeled cleaning supplies and get to work wiping down the countertops and cabinets. I scrub the sink and the fridge. When everything is as clean as I can get it, I slice through the tape on the box holding our pots and pans and begin unpacking.
Half an hour later, I’ve gotten most of the kitchen unpacked when Reed joins me.
He doesn’t say a word, just tears open a box and begins to pull everything out.
Ever since our parents died, he doesn’t say much, but I know this is my brother’s version of a peace offering.
No matter how mad he is that we’ve moved halfway across the country, or how irritated he was to be mistaken for my son, we’re in this together.
Reed and I against the world.
“I thought we could explore our new city and grab some groceries after we’re done unpacking,” I say. “Maybe grab a pizza for dinner?”
“Sure.”
When Reed doesn’t stop to look my way, I reach over and mess up his short, caramel-colored curls. He swats my hand away, but his full lips quirk up at the corners when I chuckle. “I love you, you know.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He finally gives in and smiles. A real one. His warm brown eyes swing my way. “Love you too.”
I wrap an arm around his shoulder, startled to realize it’s not as easy to lean on him as it used to be. He’s getting taller. My baby brother is growing into a young man. “We’re going to be okay.”
“I know.” Reed wraps one arm around my waist for a moment, squeezing briefly before he shrugs out of my hold. He glances around the apartment and sighs at the piles of boxes we still have to get through. “Let’s get these done. I want to get out of here.”
The feeling’s mutual. This place is so much smaller than the home we’re used to. I’m feeling claustrophobic. “Tell you what. Let’s both unpack all our clothes and bedroom stuff, then we’ll go.”
“Deal.” Reed strides into his bedroom and gets to work. I take a moment to suck in a deep breath and center myself, then I do the same.
I can do this.
I have to do this. There’s no other choice.
“What do you think?” I ask as we wander around downtown Minneapolis.
It’s a bigger city than I was expecting, but everything feels so foreign.
The architecture is a different style, there’s not a single palm tree in sight, and hell, even the clothes people wear are different. We’re not in Los Angeles anymore.
Reed grunts as he helps me load groceries into the trunk. “It’s not home.”
“Not yet.” I do my best to ignore the twisting in my stomach. “It will be, though. I just know it. At least we found a good pizza place, right?”
“Sure.” The eye roll punctuating Reed’s answer doesn’t even bother me, because I’m too lost in my own worries as I struggle to adjust to our new surroundings.
I wish we knew someone here. It’s not like we had a huge safety net or support system in California, but at least Reed had friends and teachers who knew all about his situation.
If something came up, I could usually count on one of his friends letting him sleep over or being able to give him a ride to school in the morning.
We won’t have that here. I thought that wouldn’t bother me, because I’ve grown used to doing everything on my own. But what if I get sick or end up with a broken leg or something? What if I can’t take care of myself or him? What then?
“You okay?”
Reed’s gruff question snaps me out of my spiral and my chest squeezes when I focus on his worried amber eyes.
I need to keep my shit together for my brother.
He’s depending on me, and even though he hides his emotions well under a facade of teenage angst, I know he’s scared.
Time to pull up my big-girl panties and be the adult.
“I’m just tired. It was a long drive.” We set the last couple of bags in the trunk. “Want to veg out and watch a movie tonight before we go to bed? I don’t think I can muster the energy to unpack anything else.”
“Sure.” Reed studies me as I shut the trunk and move toward the driver’s side door. “But I get to pick this time. No chick flicks tonight, or I’ll puke all over the carpet.”
That makes me chuckle. I love torturing my little brother with cheesy rom-coms. He’s so easy to annoy. I heave out a deep sigh and shake my head. “Fine. But only because I love you.”
“Whatever. It has nothing to do with love. It’s my turn and you know it.”
We end up watching one of the Fast and the Furious movies. Number twenty or something. I don’t pay much attention. They’re all the same to me. It’s only when I’m woken by Reed gently shaking my shoulders that I realize I fell asleep on the couch.
If we didn’t need to be up early to get ready for my new job and Reed’s first day at his new school, I probably would have stayed there.
But being grumpy because I slept funny isn’t the kind of first impression I want to make.
Because I need to kill it at this new job. I need my first day to go smoothly.
Everything depends on it.