Thornbird

Chapter Eleven Sarah

Eleven

Sarah

The week slogs on. Excruciatingly slow. Everett keeps texting me and I keep ignoring him, much to Jasmine’s disapproval.

She’s also not thrilled about the new friends I’ve made.

Mar from photography and Ty from French are the only two students with whom I’ve genuinely connected.

They’re down-to-earth, a little artsy, a little different, but fun to talk to.

And it turns out they were already friends, which means I’m not awkwardly caught in the middle. If anything, I’m the third wheel.

On Thursday, Maggie picks us up after school because Jasmine really, really, really needs to get new earrings for tomorrow’s football game.

“I want to go to Hi-Lites,” Jasmine says from the back of the SUV. “So park there.”

“I’ll be so glad when you two have your licenses and I don’t have to be your personal chauffer.

” Maggie groans and pulls into a parking lot near the small open-air mall outside of the downtown stretch.

Until today, I had no idea this little shopping center even existed.

According to Jasmine, it’s one of two hangout spots for the kids in town, with the lakefront serving as the other.

Jasmine blows a bubble with her gum and then pops it with her finger. “Yeah, well. You could’ve just let Ryan borrow the car, you know. She could drive us. Right, Ryan?”

I hesitate. It’s been a long time since I had a mother to go shopping with, and Aunt Maggie is the next-closest thing, so truthfully, I don’t mind the lack of freedom. “Maybe next time.”

Maggie turns off the engine and glances at me before I can open the passenger door.

“I forgot to mention—I’m looking for some help at my office after school, maybe a few afternoons a week.

Just filing, answering messages, and updating listings.

Jazzy is too busy with cheerleading, so I thought I’d ask you.

Are you interested? I’d pay you fifteen bucks an hour. ”

“Seriously?” I’ve been thinking about getting a part-time job, but I assumed it would be in fast food. This would be a lot better. “Sure, I’d love that. Thanks.”

“Fabulous! How’s Monday to start?”

“Great.”

We all hop out of the car, Jasmine going on about how Hi-Lites has the cutest earrings and clothes. When we get to the storefront, one glance at the flowered sundresses in the window tells me it’s not for me.

Connor points toward a sporting goods store. “I’ll be there,” he says, and walks off.

As much as I want to fit in with the Shipley women, trying on frilly dresses feels like a fate worse than death.

I spot a coffee shop in the center of the square, a cool locally owned one that looks more inviting than the Starbucks.

“Can I just go over there? I didn’t have lunch today and I’m starving. ”

Jasmine’s face falls, but Maggie says, “Sure, if that’s what you want.” She holds up her phone. “Check your texts.”

“I will.”

The coffee shop is packed. I get in line and order a caramel latte and a muffin. As I’m spinning around with my order, searching for a table in the corner, I see two gorgeous boys walking through the door.

Everett and Chase.

There’s no way to avoid them. They notice me almost instantly.

“Hey, Gemini,” Everett drawls.

Awesome. Now he thinks that because I call him Everest, he can respond in kind. I should’ve known that would happen.

“Hey.”

He motions to Chase. “You know Chase?”

“Yeah, we’re in a class together,” I say vaguely.

“Two. English and calc,” Chase mutters.

He’s in my calculus class too? How is this guy able to show up to school sporadically and not get kicked out?

“Cool,” Everett says, a corner of his mouth lifting to reveal a sinfully cute dimple. “Given any more thought to that dinner invite?”

“It’s all I think about.”

That makes him snicker. “You think the sarcasm turns me off, but it really doesn’t.”

Beside him, Chase stares at me. His body language tells me he’s dying to get away from this conversation.

“Anyway,” I say, holding up my latte and muffin. “I’d better—”

Just then, the door behind them swings open and Nikki comes in, arms laden with shopping bags. “You get me my chai yet, Ev?”

“Was about to.”

Her eyes drift to me. “Oh. I see what the holdup was,” she sneers. “Maybe start thinking with your other head—you know, the big one, between your shoulders—for a change?”

If Everett is affected by her words, he doesn’t show it. “Cool it, shrimp. I’m on it. Later, Ryan.”

He and Chase move toward the line, while Nikki continues to look me up and down. “I don’t get it,” she finally says.

I’m clearly being insulted, but I’m not sure what about. So I say, “Jasmine’s in Hi-Lites. Did you see her?”

“No, is she? Fuck. What does that bitch think she’s doing, shopping without my advice?”

“Uh, yeah. I don’t know. See you later.”

I make my escape, leaving the James siblings and Chase Hedlund’s brooding face in my wake. I decide to window-shop while I enjoy my snacks. The problem is, every few steps I feel like eyes are on me. Every time I look around, I recognize someone from school.

Finishing my muffin, I toss the wrapper in the trash and cross the street, into the main part of town.

Downtown Starling is growing on me. It’s really cute: old-timey streetlights with American flags, park benches, and fences around the trees.

There’s a little fountain in the town square across from the clock tower, featuring a statue of a Civil War general I’ve never heard of.

I’m trying to read his name on the plaque when my phone vibrates.

I pull it out to find a text from Everett.

Everest: You look hot af today.

Heat floods my cheeks. I hate that he has such an effect on me. The school quarterback, of all people. At least Marco had the decency to not be the king of our school in Allentown. We could hook up without everyone whispering about it.

Everest: I wanted to tell you that in class today, but you were going out of your way to ignore me.

He’s right. I was.

Rather than reply, I slide my phone back into my bag and wander past a few antique and thrift stores, which are more my speed. Something about giving old things new life always appeals to me.

I find Maggie outside the Starbucks, scrolling on her phone.

She tells me more about the job offer and how I can help her with open houses too if I’m interested.

She’s still chatting when someone steps out of one of the shops ahead of us.

A tall man with dark hair and piercing ice-blue eyes.

He spots us and waves, heading right in our direction.

I don’t recognize him, but as he gets closer, I get the distinct sense that I know him.

“How’s it going, Maggie?” he says in greeting, but his smile seems a bit forced.

“Going good, JP.” She touches my arm. “This is my niece, Ryan. She just moved in with us.”

“Ah, Ryan. Nice to finally meet you. I think my son’s mentioned you once or twice.”

His son? Something clicks, and now I see it. The resemblance. He looks familiar because he looks like Everett. This is his father.

I manage a polite smile. “Nice to meet you, too.”

“How’s Dan doing?” he asks my aunt, and once again I sense a shift in his energy.

“He’s great.”

JP’s gaze slides to me. “Your uncle and I went to high school together. We go way back.”

I nod awkwardly. There’s a weird tension in the air when he mentions Dan. I wonder if they don’t like each other.

“So, Ryan, how do you feel about dogs?”

I’m caught off guard by the abrupt topic change. “Dogs? Like a certain breed or in general?”

JP looks sincere now. Enthusiastic. “I run the animal shelter in Starling,” he explains. “And we’re always looking for extra hands to help out. The dogs could use some more walking and attention, so I’m constantly on the hunt for new volunteers.”

“Oh. Cool. That sounds fun, actually,” I say, and I’m not just being polite.

I love dogs. I always wanted one, but Gran was highly allergic, and apparently Maggie inherited that gene, because the Shipleys can’t have a dog either. Jess has a big goofy golden retriever who used to sit in my lap and make me laugh with his antics. Ugh. I miss Taco.

“Great!” JP says. “Swing by anytime, then. We’ve got plenty of pups who’d love the company.” He nods at my aunt. “Good to see you, Maggie.”

He’s turning to leave when Nikki suddenly comes stomping toward us, her expression set in a scowl.

“Dad, can we go now? I’ve been waiting forever,” she snaps.

“Sorry, hon,” JP says. “I was catching up here.”

She crosses her arms, not bothering to acknowledge me or my aunt even though she’s fully aware we’re both standing there. “Well, are you done catching up or should I roll out my sleeping bag and make myself comfy on the sidewalk? Because I’m bored out of my fucking mind.”

The tension skyrockets. Nikki’s tone is harsh, dripping with irritation. It makes my skin crawl. My own father is an actual murderer and I’d still never speak to him with such disrespect.

JP winces slightly but doesn’t say anything back. Instead, he forces a smile and turns to me. “I’m right behind you,” he tells his daughter.

“Thank you,” she huffs before flouncing away.

“I’m really sorry about that.” JP glances over his shoulder as Nikki reaches the red pickup truck parked nearby. “She’s going through a phase.” He keeps his voice light, but I see the weariness in his eyes.

Maggie nods with genuine sympathy. “Teenage girls are rough.”

Despite being one myself, I don’t disagree with her. I couldn’t imagine parenting girls like Nikki and Jasmine.

JP sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Anyway, if you’re interested in stopping by the shelter, you’re always welcome, Ryan. Sorry again about Nikki.”

He gives us an apologetic look before joining his daughter, who’s standing by his truck, tapping her foot impatiently. I can’t help but feel a little sorry for him. Nikki James is a real piece of work. Entitled brat if I ever saw one.

Maggie clearly agrees, as she lowers her voice and says, “Of all the best friends Jazzy could’ve chosen…”

I hide my grin. “You’re not a fan.”

“Would you be?”

Unable to fight my reaction, I let out a laugh. “Nope.”

“At least Gillian is a sweetheart. I suppose that makes up for it.” Maggie returns the laugh before shifting her gaze to her phone. “Jazzy needs an opinion on the earrings. You coming or still exploring?”

“Exploring,” I answer, and she nods, not seeming to mind.

“Meet us at the car in thirty?”

“Sounds good.”

I walk off, following the sidewalk and window-shopping until I reach the end of Main Street. At a T intersection, I look across the street and spot bare trees, park benches, and a wide expanse of lawn beyond a wrought iron fence. At first, I think it’s another park, until I notice the headstones.

It’s the Starling cemetery.

Something pulls my now-unsteady legs there. I never went to my mother’s funeral—I was whisked away to Allentown before it happened—but I imagine it was a media circus. All Gran told me was that she was buried somewhere in town.

Here.

I’m drawn to it, just like I was drawn to the cabin, dreading what I’ll see and the whirlwind of emotions it’ll create but needing to see it nonetheless.

Walking among the headstones, I read each name until finally I come to a small one, a plaque raised slightly from the ground, half-consumed by weeds.

The grass in front of it has worn away, suggesting it’s had quite a few visitors over the years, likely podcasters like Zed and other people obsessed with the morbid.

The stone is bare except for two dates and a name.

Sarah Mayfair

They used her maiden name. Makes sense. Gran would’ve set fire to the entire town before referring to her murdered daughter as Sarah Thorn.

I stare at my mom’s name, letting the memory of the last time I saw her flood my mind.

She was so frantic, running about the house, trying to get everything packed before he came home.

I’d been no help—in fact, I’d probably been a hindrance, because I didn’t understand what was happening.

I wanted a snack. I wanted her to play with me.

I wanted her to stop scaring me, which she was, with that rabid look in her eye.

If I hadn’t slowed her down…

Well, things would be different. We might’ve gotten out.

Instinctively, my hand reaches for the diamond pendant at my neck, and moisture floods my eyes when I remember it’s missing. Gone.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “I’m so, so sorry. You should be here. You should be with me.”

When the tears start to fall, stinging my cheeks, I realize what I’m doing and furtively check to make sure I’m alone. I wipe my face and force myself to leave, weaving my way out of the cemetery. By the time I return to the car, Jasmine, Connor, and Maggie are already there.

“Where were you?” Jasmine demands.

“I texted you several times,” my aunt says. She doesn’t sound mad, only concerned. “Was your phone dead?”

“Sorry. I forgot to check it.”

“You need to see the dress I got. It’s hot,” Jasmine says, rummaging through one of several bags at her feet.

“I thought you were just getting earrings,” I say in amusement.

“There’s no such thing as ‘just earrings,’ ” Maggie grumbles under her breath. “C’mon, guys. Let’s go.”

On the ride home, I’m silent, watching the scenery blur past me. When we get back to the house, I grab a zip-up hoodie from the bedroom, then head for the mudroom, swapping my combat boots for sneakers.

“Where are you going?” Jasmine asks from the doorway,

“I want to look for my necklace before it gets dark.”

Her features soften. “Um, look, I know I was a total bitch about it this weekend, but I really am sorry you lost it. I know it was important to you.”

She has no idea. “Thanks.”

“I’d help you look, but Sofia and, ugh”—she makes a face—“Zed are coming by to go over yearbook stuff.”

Even more reason to flee the house. I want nothing to do with Zed and his Gabriel Thorn obsession.

I leave through the side door and head for the trail, desperate for some solitude. As I walk I think of my mother and her beautiful laugh, the wavy cinnamon hair that framed her face, the way she smelled like vanilla and roses. I have so few memories of her. I had such little time with her.

And it rips me apart to know that if it wasn’t for me, she might be alive today.