Page 22 of Wherever You Are
My stomach twists, unsettled all of a sudden.
Maximoff rips the tape off one of the smaller boxes, helping Garrison. It’s a good distraction for him, and I need a second to myself so that I don’t look like I’m about to puke.
Because I’m hiding something from Garrison. From my brothers. And if I can, I’d like to take this to my grave.
It’s about that night in London when Garrison visited.
After he flew home and I stayed back, I did some damage control. Students filmed Garrison punching Salvatore, and I saw the look on Garrison’s face. If that footage leaked online, he would’ve been prime fodder for the media. We both have been memes before, and it’s only ever easy when you’re emotionally and mentally prepared to handle it.
It’d destroy him, and since Connor Cobalt—the usual damage control expert—wasn’t around, I had to think of different resources. I couldn’t call Lo or Ryke without alerting them that Garrison was drunk, and he made me promise not to say anything.
So there was only one person left.
My dad.
Jonathan Hale.
I did what I swore I would never do after he cut me a check for school.
I asked him for more money.
He gave me a hundred grand. He knew what it was for and wanted to help. Though, he called it “pennies” which I found…a little insulting. A hundred grand is a fortune to me. And it was enough to put my plan into action.
Sheetal had filmed the whole fight, and I was able to identify everyone with cameras who recorded Garrison. Luckily, Tess knew most of the students at Bishop Hall that night. So I gave them cash in exchange for the footage. They deleted their videos from the cloud and cells.
I,Willow Hale, paid people off with Jonathan Hale’s money.
Ryke has constantly warned me about our dad. I know he doesn’t give things without something in return. Allegiance. Time. I’m not sure what he’ll ask for, but I never wanted to feel indebted to him. Now…it’s all I feel. And what happens when he comes to collect?
Or worse, what happens if Lo, Ryke, or Garrison find out?
They can’t.They can’t.
I practically carve those words into stone.
5BACK THEN – October
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
GARRISON ABBEY
Age 17
“Shit.” I check over my shoulder, noticing Hannah’s mom and her little five-year-old brother at Loren Hale’s neighborhood Halloween party. Located in his overly decorated backyard. Before Mrs. Nash sees me, I pull my hood over my head.
I’m not in costume. Just my usual hoodie and dark jeans.
“What?” Willow asks, both of us loitering near the long snack table. She’s filling her paper pumpkin-shaped plate with only a few kernels of caramel popcorn and two tiny bite-sized pretzels—you know the kind that people put in Chex Mix? Not like a giant soft pretzel at a movie theater.
“Just someone I know, or their mom, I mean. Not actually them.” I shake my head like I’m being stupid about this. She won’t talk to me. Would she? I wave Willow on. “It’s whatever. Keep doing what you’re doing.”
“I’m done. So…” She pushes up her black-framed glasses. Even though they don’t go with her Vega costume, I like that she wanted to be comfortable and keep them on. She tries grabbing the strap of her backpack. It’s not there, by the way. So she catches air.
Willow notices me staring for a long or quick second—I’m not really sure which. “What…is it?” Her hand shakes, the paper plate rattling, and she clutches it with both to steady the thing. I spot her anxiety more than she’d probably like me to, but all I want to do is lessen it for her. I’m just not fucking sure how.
“You look pretty,” I tell her the truth, “but you look pretty all days, so there’s not really a difference here.”
Willow pales. She does that instead of blush. “Um, thanks? You look pretty too.” She winces. “I mean, you look handsome?”
