Page 12 of Return Policy

“She would’ve gotten an invite if she’d been involved in my life the last ten years,Jacob,” I snap, sitting up straight. And who does he think he is? He abandoned me just as much as she did. Sure, we might have kept in touch the last eight years, but Jake left me too.

Everybody leaves.

I’m not sure if it’s worse to lose someone by death or by choice. That probably sounds insensitive to those grieving… but at least Chloe didn’tchooseto leave me. So even if I miss her, I can’t hate her.

But my mom?Yeah, I definitely hate her.

“Well, I think if you’d just give her a chance,” Jake presses, boring his green eyes into my matching ones, “she’d really like to make up for lost time, SophiaElysabeth.” My lip twitches in anger at his reminder I share a name with my mother.

“Since when did you become such a fucking mama’s boy?” I spout.

“Soph…”

“Jake.” I shake my head. “You just don’t get it.”

“Whywouldn’tI get it?” he asks with a flicker of pain in his eyes.

“Mom left and never came back for me.”

Neither did you.

“She left me too, Soph,” Jake argues.

“Yeah… except you were eighteen and moved out the same year. I had to spend eight more years in our empty house with none of you in it!” I huff and fold my arms over my chest, angry as fuck at him opening up a wound I would rather forget about completely. A wound he contributed to himself by letting his grief pull him away from Longwood, and me, for so long. He frowns, then comes over and sits down next to me, putting his arm around my shoulders to pull me in tight.

“You’re right,” he admits. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t push you. It took me a long time before I was ready to talk to Mom again… and I guess I just need to respect our timelines may be different. Okay?”

I rest my head against him and release the tension from my shoulders. “Okay…”

“Forgive me?” he asks hopefully.

“I guess so…”

“Rain or shine?”

“Yeah.” A weak smile spreads across my face. “Rain or shine.”

He pushes himself off the couch and before he can restart the movie, I stand up. “I’m pretty tired from the party last night and worrying about your criminal ass in jail all day.” I smirk playfully at Jake, and he narrows his eyes right back. “See you guys tomorrow.”

“Night, Ladybug.” Leah blows me a kiss, and my lips upturn as I “catch it” and slap it to my cheek.

“Wanna go for a run in the morning?” Jake asks before I reach the stairs.

“Only if you’re in the mood to eat dust,” I spit back.

“Kinda hard to eat dust when you're the one creating it,” he replies.

I dart up the stairs exaggeratedly to show my speed, and their laughter follows me all the way to my room.

My sketchbook and pencils are sitting on my unmade bed. I scoop them up and head to the one place that always makes me feel at peace: Chloe’s room.

It’s tidy and organized, the complete opposite of when she frequented its walls. The pottery shelf along the far wall contains all of her creations. Every single one, down to the lopsided teacup with a hole in the bottom she made during her first class. In the middle sits the bowl she and Leah made the day they gave me my nickname. I’ll never forget my excitement when Leah addedLadybugto the bottom in red paint, initiating me into their swarm.

My eyes snag on Chloe’s bed, the same white comforter reminding me of all the nights we used to snuggle up as she taught me to read.Alice’s Adventures in Wonderlandwas our book of choice, and I always loved the magic of it all. Sometimes I still lie in her bed and read it out loud, like she’s right there listening. Closing my eyes, I imagine Chloe in Wonderland, having adventures and searching for the rabbit hole to find her way back to us.

But she isn’t in Wonderland, and this small space is all I have left of her.

Sighing, my eyes fall to the ground where I’d sit as she braided my hair for school. On days I was feeling especially down after Mom left, she’d abandon the braid and tickle me until I practically peed myself and begged for mercy. It always helped.

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