Where We Used to Roam by Jenn Bishop (sites to read books for free .TXT) 📕

finish it. And then I made one last night after I got back, but then when I tripped, I smashed it. I ruined it. I—”

“It’s okay, Em. It’s okay. I mean, it was weird at first. I thought I’d hear from you sooner, but then, things have been kind of weird between us for a while, right? Ever since you started hanging out with Kennedy and Lucy. Maybe even before.”

She’s not wrong.

“I didn’t get it then. I was jealous. But now, now I think I get it.”

“Get what?”

“I hadn’t met anyone before that I really clicked with, but then at camp this summer, I made these new friends and it was different. Easy. Not that being your friend was hard—it’s just… we didn’t fit together the same way, like how we used to. Sometimes you meet someone and it just makes sense.”

“Like me and Tyler.”

“Wait, did you get a boyfriend this summer?”

“No, no,” I say, laughing at the idea. “He’s a friend I made in Wyoming. Becca?”

“Yeah?”

I know Mom and Dad haven’t given me the all clear yet to tell people what’s going on with Austin, but I know they trust Becca. And after what happened with Austin, chances are they aren’t going to be able to keep this a secret much longer.

“Austin’s sick.”

We’re still walking, but Becca’s steps have halved in length. “With what?”

I fill her in on all that’s happened between the shoulder surgery and now as we make a big loop around our neighborhood. Maybe Becca and I don’t quite click anymore when it comes to a lot of stuff, but when it comes to Austin, we still do.

“You must be so worried about him,” she says.

“I am.” I don’t know when the worry will ever stop, only that it feels so good to tell Becca about it.

We’re almost back at her house now. I know I can’t keep her out here forever. She’s got friends waiting inside.

“Becca?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we just—”

When you’ve been friends since you were four, there are some things you can say without speaking a single word. And as we wrap our arms around each other, I know it’s not the last time, but also that we can’t go back to the way things used to be. Our friendship has changed, but it doesn’t mean we don’t care about each other. It’ll never mean that.

“You smell different,” I say, and then laugh. “Not that you’re smelly. It’s just—your hair. Did you change shampoos?”

“It’s the straightener,” Becca says. “Do you like it?”

“It looks really pretty.”

Becca scrunches her nose like she’s not so sure. “I think I miss the curls. But it’s not permanent, right?”

“Right,” I say, and I smile.

Thankfully, few things are.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

On the short walk back to my house, I call Tyler and update him on Austin and my makeup with Becca.

Mom’s not back from the hospital with Austin yet, so I let myself in and head to the bathroom to wash off my hand.

“I’m putting you on speakerphone, okay? I’ve got to wash the blood off before Mom and Austin get home.”

“Uh, Emma? The blood? Did you leave something out? Like, I don’t know, a murder?”

I let out a laugh so big it sounds almost like an evil cackle. “Yes, Tyler. I murdered someone,” I deadpan as I pull out the drawer where Mom keeps first aid supplies. “No! I tripped on Becca’s front step, remember? Although, now with blood all over my shirt and shorts, it actually does a little bit look like I murdered someone.”

“Can we switch to FaceTime? I need to see this.”

I click to accept his FaceTime call and then hold back the phone to show him my murderer ensemble. Now that I think about it, I could use it for a pretty scary shadow box. Though I don’t know if a murder box would have a shot at winning that contest. More likely it would lead to a call to the local police.

“It doesn’t look that bad. Though I like your bathroom. Marble countertops? Fancy. Emily Gilmore would approve.”

“Aw, we didn’t get to finish our Gilmore binge.” I wince, dabbing the cut on my hand with a rubbing-alcohol-soaked cotton ball.

“There’s always next summer,” Tyler says. “Maybe if I start doing some chores around the neighborhood, I can save up enough money for a plane ticket to Boston! I could mow lawns, walk dogs, feed cats—well, as long as they’re nicer than Dumbledore.”

“Or we could come to you.” I slap a Band-Aid on my palm. It’s hard to imagine a whole year out, especially when I’m trying to take things one day at a time. But maybe next summer Austin will be doing better and we can fly out as a family. See the buffalo together.

“But then how am I going to get to see Stars Hollow?”

“Ty, it’s not real.”

“You know what I mean. New England! Ooh—sorry, Em. I’ve got to go in a sec. We’re almost there.”

“Almost where?” I ask, suddenly noticing that Tyler’s been in a car this whole time.

“I’m with Grams. We’re going to see my mom.”

There. He means the prison. “When did you change your mind?” I head outside and sit on the front steps.

“When you texted me yesterday about Austin and heading home, it hit me. My mom’s so far away. Anything could happen to her—stuff happens in prison, you know? And I don’t want her to think I don’t love her. It’s not that I’m not mad at her still, but I love her too. That counts more.”

What Mom said last night, about the goodness counting more than the mistakes, comes back to me. “I’m glad you’re seeing her.”

“Me too.”

Just then Mom’s Subaru Outback turns up our block. “Hey, Ty? Mom and Austin are back. I’ve got to go. Text me later, ’kay?”

“I will.”

“Emma, what happened?” Mom exclaims as I click out of my call with Tyler.

“Dude, you lose a fight with a bottle of ketchup?” Austin chuckles, and for a moment it feels like nothing has happened,