Page 22 of The Last Thing
Once we’re inside, Sophia scampers off to her room to unpack her backpack, but I lean against the closed door, hoping that for once fate is here to help me out.
CHAPTER SEVEN
HALLIE
I was bornin the wrong time. At least by like a decade. I wish I could’ve been a teenager at the height of the early 2000s emo-pop-punk days. That’s where my soul resides.
And as I cruise off the highway exit in my 2008 custom baby blue Jeep Wrangler with the top off, belting out the lyrics along with Taking Back Sunday, I feel a shred of peace.
I’m a strange mix of sarcastic, playful, and upbeat with a dash of doom and gloom. Very Peyton Sawyerpeople always leavevibes. Yeah, I really would’ve thrived as a teen in the early 2000s.
Frannie’s apartment is right on the downtown strip in Ida, overlooking the river, and when I pull to a stop in one of the spots in front of her building, I pause to look around.
Is this my home?
Is this where I’m supposed to be?
I don’t know, but at least Frannie’s here, and that’s a start.
I’ll have to come back out and put the top on my Wrangler later, but for now, I’m going inside to see my sister.
Frannie throws the door at the top of the stairs open before I’ve made it halfway up.
“You’re here!”
“Is there an elevator?” I tease.
“Mark wants to put one in, but he hasn’t figured out how. He’s tired of lugging his stuff up and down two flights of stairs. But we’d have to cut into your apartment to do it.”
I stop when she says that.Myapartment. And I knew that, but something about it really hits. I’m moving here.
We’removing here. I may not technically count as two people yet, but it won’t be long until I do.
I hurry up the rest of the stairs, then throw my arms around my sister.
She hugs me back tightly, closes the door behind me and locks it, then leads me over to the actual entrance to their apartment.
The last time I was here they were still unpacking, but this time everything is laid out and absolutely beautiful.
“Wow. This is amazing.”
“Thank you. I love how it turned out.”
The whole living area is charming and open, with a huge row of windows on the back wall where the kitchen is.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she squeals. “I know you’ve seen your new apartment since it used to be mine, but I’m so excited to show it to you again.” She pulls me in for another hug, then lets me go, putting her hands on my shoulders. “But first, how are you? Are you okay?”
Well, no point in lying about it.
“I’m pregnant.”
Frannie goes as still as a statue.
“You. What? Who? How? Hallie!”
“Great sentences.”
She smacks my arm. “You just dropped a bomb on me. Words are hard.”
