Page 1 of Dreams and Desires

Chapter One

Juniper

I said I would never return to Cody. Not in some quietly- promise- to- myself way. No, I declared it out loud in front of my parents, and right in Jacob’s face. “I’m never coming back here,” I shouted with all the rage I could muster. I genuinely believed I would never set foot in that town again. Eighteen-year-old me slammed the door. The house shook. I screamed that Cody was dead to me.

Yet here I am, on a train speeding straight toward that place. My hometown.

The word “hometown” feels weird when I think about Cody. People hear that word. They think of warmth. Maybe love. Or friends. Or feeling like you belong. But that place? It never gave me any of that. What I got was being left behind. Always feeling like I was on the outside. Memories that still sting.

I did not grow up in Cody. I got through it. Barely.

To clear my mind, I lean against the window and stare outside. The mountains look the same. Harsh. Sharp. Covered in old black rock. Like they have been standing there forever just to make people like me feel small. That has not changed.

Nothing ever changes out here. Not the landscape. Not the silence. Not the way it makes everything in me ache.

And just like that, I am back in it. Whether I want to be or not.

Jacob, my brother, and I used to fight all the time. Stupid stuff. Whose turn it was to do dishes. Whether Blink-182 was overrated. We would yell like the world was ending, then pretend it never happened.

And in between all that, there were days that felt good. Afternoons at Riverside Park with Mom, Dad, and Grams. Sitting on a threadbare blanket, eating sandwiches, watching Grams throw breadcrumbs to ducks like it was the best part of her day.

She loved that park. Said she liked places that let her be quiet without asking why. Said the river made her feel less alone.

When she died, she asked for one thing. To have her ashes scattered right by the water in that park. Of course, my parents said no. Said it was too weird. Said it was not proper. So they kept her in some ugly ceramic jar on the fireplace like she was a decoration.

Jacob and I could not stand it. The thought of her stuck in that house, watching TV reruns for the rest of forever? No way. So we did what felt right.

One night, we grabbed our bikes and snuck out. It was freezing. I could barely feel my fingers on the handlebars. But we rode all the way to the park in the dark and we did it. We let her go. Right where she asked.

I remember we were so happy. We filled the jar back with sand and placed it back on the mantle above the fireplace. I think to this date mom and dad don’t know Grams is not in there.

But even that happy memory does nothing to ease the dread of going back. I almost decide to go back. Get off at the next station and take a train back to Silverton. But I can’t, I shouldn’t. I have to be in Cody, for the only person on my side. Jacob.

And I keep thinking about that little apartment he used to have. It was above a bakery. He told me the whole place always smelled like sugar and paint. I never saw it in person, but I remember the way he talked about it. It sounded like his own little world. He was teaching art back then, just getting by, living off whatever he could make. Sketchbooks everywhere, half-finished clay stuff on the table. It sounded messy but kind of peaceful.

But then the meds got expensive. The hospital visits got longer. The money dried up. So he moved back in with our parents.

And now, apparently, I am supposed to move in too.

Probably because he needs moral support dealing with them. Our parents aren’t the easiest people in the world.

I just don’t like to think much about my parents, so I pick up my book to get lost in. It is one of those steamy romances with a cover I would never read in public, but I do not care right now. My own love life is dead in a ditch, so this is what I get. A demon and a human woman falling in love while the world ends around them. These stories keep me from thinking too much. That is the whole point. Turn the pages, keep my mind busy.

After a while, my eyes start to sting. I take off my glasses and press my fingers into my temples, but it barely helps. Across from me, a mom is dealing with her little girl, who is losing it over a bag of chips. The kid wants it sealed again, like it had never been opened. Obviously, the mom can’t do that. It goes on for a while. The crying. The whining. The flailing. It’s getting to me.

I do not hate kids or anything. I actually like Cora’s teenagers. They are chill. But loud, dramatic toddlers? That’s not my scene.

Then the mom catches me staring. Crap. She smiles. It is way too kind for someone getting judged by a total stranger. I feel weird, like I owe her something. So I nod, kind of stiff, and blurt out, “Your daughter is really sweet.”

I do not even know why I said that. It just came out.

“Thank you.” Her voice sounds a little off—embarrassed, maybe. She looks at her daughter, then back at me. “Are you visiting family?”

Yeah. Definitely wants to shift the focus.

“Yeah. My brother.”

She nods. “That’s nice. Going home’s always… I don’t know, comforting, I guess.”

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