Page 29 of No Way Home
“We’d like you to stay for another hour or so, just to make sure your body maintains a good temp. But yes, you can leave after that.” He exited the room.
Bowen grabbed his coat from the chair he’d set it in and put it on at breakneck speed, like he couldn’t get out of here fast enough.
My stomach clenched, waiting for whatever biting comment was coming. Bowen couldn’t let a single interaction pass without saying something hurtful. Usually, he saved his harshest putdowns for our goodbyes. Like he wanted to send me on my way with no doubt of how much he despised me. Leaving me bleeding out until the next time.
But he’d saved me today. Surely, we could be friends now.
“Thank you.” I gave him a gentle smile. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t come along.”
He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, like my words hurt—which made no sense. When they opened again, I knew I was wrong. We couldn’t be friends. Not even today.
His face had turned to steel. The old Bowen was back.
I barely had time to brace myself before he rolled his eyes. “I mean, I guess. I would’ve stopped for a stray dog. Don’t mistake basic decency for something more.” His brows lifted, ready for my retaliation.
I didn’t even try to hide how much that hurt. “What did I ever do to make you hate me so much?”
For a split second, he looked ashamed of himself. But then he hardened his expression and shrugged like my pain was no skin off his back. “Nothing. Just don’t make a big deal out of something that isn’t.”
Then he pulledthe curtain of the ER bay open and stepped into the hall. When he yanked the curtain back in place without giving me a second glance, it felt like he’d kicked me off a cliff. As I heard his footsteps fading, my heart ached so much it took up all the room in my chest, making it hard to breathe.
I didn’t know why I cared about Bowen Dupree or how he felt about me. But for some stupid reason, I just did.
When Abilene and I entered our apartment that evening, there was a sketch waiting that someone had slipped under the door.
It was of me, sitting on a couch, in front of a fire, in a chunky heather-blue cable knit sweater, a fuzzy blanket tucked over my lap. My fingers were wrapped around a marshmallow-filled mug of hot chocolate. I looked warmer in that picture than I’d felt all day. And, as always, unrealistically beautiful.
I lived for the sketches. Even though Abilene said I should take them to the police station and turn them in because I obviously had a stalker, they always calmed me. Reminded me that tomorrow was a new day and that my future was bright and waiting. There were at least twenty pictures now, pinned carefully in a neat collage over my bed.
They continued to appear out of nowhere every few weeks. In January, there was one of me with fireworks bursting overhead. A promise of a happy new year to come. In February, it was Valentine’s themed with red hearts, balloons, and roses—though I did notice I was date free. March was me blowing out candles on a birthday cake. In April, I was standing in a field of tulips that looked suspiciously like Holland—my favorite flower and vacation I’d taken with my dad.
But May? Was a high five and a punch to the gut, all rolled into one. A perfect snapshot of me in my graduation gown, School of Medicine stole and honors tassels around my neck. I stood in front of the Rotunda, laughing as I stared up at thecap I’d just tossed into the air. It was a quiet, anonymous congratulations from someone who saw me. Who celebrated me.
It should’ve felt like a triumph…and it did. But it also felt like a goodbye.
It was the end of an era. Of friendships I’d made over the last four years. Of the opportunity for Bowen and me to stop pretending we didn’t see each other whenever we passed on campus and the chance to bond over being Cavaliers at the same time.
But also, it was the end of the sketches.
Chapter Nine
BOWEN
THAT SUMMER, DUPREE FAMILY SPARTAN RACE TRAINING—PICK YOUR PARTNER DAY
Everyone was hypedthat we were doing a money pool this year. The partners who crossed the finish line first would win over twelve thousand dollars.
The money would be nice, but mostly, I just wanted to do the race with my family and make it out with my sanity still intact. With Magnolia constantly underfoot, I wasn’t sure it was possible.
Why was she doing the race anyway? This was DupreefamilySpartan Race training. Not Dupree Family Plus Griffin’s Now Full-Time Girlfriend Spartan Race Training. No one else had brought a plus one who wasn’t related.
Also, there should’ve been a dress code. Especially if your last name wasn’t Dupree or Bishop. No more tiny shorts and near non-existent tank tops. My stupid eyes kept drifting to Magnolia’s ridiculously long legs. No matter how many times I yanked my gaze back to Appropriateville, it kept veering off on its own. I did not need this kind of torture.
“Should’ve stayed in Charlottesville this summer,” I mumbled.
“What was that?” Gramps asked, leaning closer.
I chuckled. “Don’t make me tell Granny you need those hearing aids she keeps talking about.”
