Page 47 of No Way Home
She told me what you said to her about moving out west. Stop screwing with my and Maggie’s relationship!
Recently, Griff had come up with a harebrained scheme to move to Arizona or Montana and become a hotshot firefighter. When Griff told Magnolia to give up med school at UVA and move with him, I couldn’t keep my thoughts to myself. Could. Not.
According to her, Abilene and I gave her the same advice:If she didn’t want to move, Griffin should respect that. And if he loved her, he’d wait until she was done with med school.Andthe fact that he kept pressuring her to do something she didn’t want to was straight-up manipulation.
Griff was twisting Magnolia in knots, and it wasn’t okay.
Stop treating her like she’s a commodity then. She’s my friend, and friends don’t let friends do something they don’t want to just because their boyfriend is pressuring them to do it. Especially when they’re about to live their dream and start med school.
Think with your brain, bro. You’re sabotaging your own relationship. It has nothing to do with me.
Miraculously, he hadn’t texted back, and I naively thought maybe I’d gotten through to him.
I’d screwed up my chances with Magnolia a long time ago. I’d come to terms with that. She was with Griffin now. Might even be my sister-in-law someday. I’d learn to live with it even if it destroyed me.
But over the past couple of months, I’d had the chance to really get to know her. Magnolia was the kind of girl who stuck up for people, gave her Chick-fil-A sandwich to a hungry, homeless guy on the corner as everyone else drove right past. She prayed with her dad every night via FaceTime. She weeded my mom’s entire overgrown garden once when Mom and Dad were out of town for the day. She spent hours teaching Cash’s sister, Addie, to dive—a feat no one else had been able to accomplish since Addie had a fear of heights. Over and over, they dove into that water together.
Magnolia was selfless to a fault, which was exactly why she’d be a fantastic doctor someday. But her inner desire to take care of others, even at the detriment of her own mental health, also meant she might give up her dreams for Griff. Icouldn’t stand by and let that happen. She needed to be a doctor. Theworldneeded her to be a doctor.
So when she sent me this message…
Magnolia
I think I should train with Griff for the time being. He’s having a hard time lately. I promise I’ll be ready on race day.
And I saw her training with him at Dupree Ranch a couple of days later, and she barely looked like herself—no smile, no spark, just the weight of something heavy pressing down on every part of her—I decided to do something drastic. Something to encourage her to be brave. To live life on her own terms.
I tore open the box of saline solution, squirted a small amount onto a cotton ball, and dabbed it around the piercing. Then I stepped out of the car and headed inside.
My dad indeed lost his mind about the piercing. Almost everyone did, except for Charlie, who always had my back. Magnolia didn’t say a word, but the discomfort radiating off her could have melted steel. By the end of the night, I felt like a fool for turning my face into a human dartboard, all to motivate mybrother’sgirlfriend. Like, really. How stupid could I be?
Now I was in bed, lights out, trying to shut off my mind. But it was no use. So I opened a new note on my phone and began a to-do list for the next day.
Google how to remove a vertical brow piercing at home.
No need for a lifelong reminder of my dumbest idea yet.
Just then, a text appeared. From Magnolia. She hadn’t texted since she’d told me we couldn’t train together. I bolted upright, heart hammering.
Magnolia
I like your eyebrow piercing.
My shoulders sagged with relief and I pumped my fist.
Thanks. I’ve been thinking about doing it for a while. Two years, actually. A good friend put the idea in my head.
When her texting indicator bubbles wiggled, and wiggled, and wiggled, I thought maybe I’d gone too far. So I sent a laughing-face emoji to lighten the mood.
Magnolia
A friend of mine almost talked me into piercing my navel once. But I never went through with it.
My fingers flew over the keypad.
The race is a good reason to get one, maybe? We still haven’t ordered team shirts. Or matching compression socks. Maybe our thing could be that we both get piercings?
“Please, please, please.” I gripped the phone. Maybe if she could be bold enough for that, she’d be bold enough not to let Griffin talk her into moving.
