Page 83 of Headstrong Like Us
“I won.” Farrow lifts and lowers his brows in a wave.
Irritation scrunches my face. “I let him win.”
Farrow doesn’t deny.
Him and me—we weren’t evenfriendsway back when. Yet, Luna befriended him. Sought him out and wanted him at her birthday parties. He was 100% not invited to mine.
They have a cool bond, and it only made sense that she’s his groomswoman.
Luna is beaming and rubbing her wet, splotchy face. “Thank you, thank you.” She bounces to her feet, and I take Ripley from Farrow so they can hug her without waking the little guy.
Really, though, Ripley might as well be checked-out. Booked a one-way ticket to Dreamland. I bet it’s better there than most places. Soft snores emit from his parted lips, and I climb upstairs and lay him down for a nap in his crib. On my way back to the dining room, baby monitor in hand, guilt drives into me at fatal speeds.
I didn’t wait for my parents. They missedthis.
They knew we were asking Luna, Kinney, and Xander tonight.Fuuuck.And I’m a thousand times more worried aboutwhythey’re not here over the fact that they didn’t see their kids’ reactions. Whatever’s keeping them must have been important. Still…
They’re going to be so upset. Not at me. At themselves. And somehow that’s fucking worse.
We’re all back in our seats. Eating meatloaf and mashed potatoes. None of my siblings touch the salad, but we’re in a passionate discussion about the most recent Marvel movie. Everyone shares their opinion. Xander feeds Gotham table scraps, and Kinney asks if she can give Ripley his bottle tomorrow morning.
You’d think as the youngest, Kinney would be the most averse to the baby. But I think she secretly loves anything that belongs to Farrow.
“Do we have to leave potatoes for Mom and Dad?” Xander asks me as he careens over the table to scrape the bowl clean.
“Go for—” I stop short, hearing the sound of the front door.
Everyone quiets like a bullet just sped by and struck the wall. Farrow’s hand slides to my thigh.
My siblings are all looking at me. The heat of their gazes burns my skin.
Growing up, I was always the spokesperson among the four of us. Now more than ever, being back home throws me into this old role.
The main difference is the guy I love. Sitting right beside me with fortitude and resilience. Carrying half the load.
I’m not alone.
I breathe easier.
Hollow pieces filling to the brim.
Farrow trains an eye on my dad.
He traipses in the dining room with cinched brows and a deep frown. His light brown hair is matted. Like he’s been wrenching his hands through it all night. Dark purple half-moons shadow his gaze, and he scans the unspooled ribbon and unwrapped gift boxes, then offers us a dry quarter-smile. “Why does it look like Hedwig just died a second time?” TheHarry Potterreference brings smiles to my siblings’ faces.
“Where have you been?” I ask.
“Work—” He stops short as my mom slowly shuffles into the dining room.
She’s small. She’s always been small, but her black sweater appears about a million-sizes too big for her tonight.
“Sorry, we’re late,” my mom mutters, brown hair hanging in her face. Head dipped a little. She won’t look at me, but her eyes are swollen. Like she’s been crying.
Farrow sweeps her features. “Lily—”
My mom flinches like a skittish bird. She whirls right around to the kitchen. “I’llberightback.” She slurs the words together. About to dart out, but my dad blocks the doorway.
“Lo,” she whisper-hisses.
