A/N: Sorry for such a long wait and such a short chapter! I haven't had much motivation for this story lately but it's coming back to me! A short chapter this time, but they can't all be long.

A big thank you to stargurlll for the gorgeous cover on the side! <3 Thank you so much!

Also, dedicated to the top person for the amazing comment she left :') She even reread the story and that seriously just made my day.
To all the other commenters (don't worry, I didn't forget about you!) thank you so much for your comments and your dedications are coming!
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Twenty-Three

          “She went back home,” Dad says as turns away from me to place the box he’s carrying into the back of his SUV. It’s filled with copies of old books from Mom that are signed. I can tell that it’s a heavy load when my dad straightens out and rubs his lower back.

            “Do you think you could contact her for me?” I don’t mean to make a show of looking away when he meets my eyes but I do. My right hand rubs my opposite arm in attempt to appear more nonchalant than I’m feeling right now.

            “Your mother told me that you were positive you didn’t want to meet with Cade’s mother.” With his name, I cringe and I catch an apologetic expression crosses his face when I turn back to meet his gaze. “Bama, that’s what I told her. She went back last week.”

            I chew on my bottom lip, hesitant. “What did she say?”

            Dad leans against the side of the SUV and folds his arms across his chest. He flexes his back a few times, noticeably in pain. “She was disappointed.”

            I frown. “Oh.”

            “She really liked you, Bam. You weren’t just what you think you were to his family.”

            I think about what he said for a several minutes, having no idea how to respond. I feel like I’m dreaming as I think about the past and all the time I spent with Cade’s family, a hand full of times when he wasn’t even there. His house was really like a second home for me, but when he passed, even though his family reached out for me, I cut them off cold turkey. I haven’t ever spoken to them again.

            “Can you call her?” I ask quietly. My eyes are fixated on the ground as a wave of nostalgia passes over me. “I think I want to meet with her.”

            “Your friends are coming,” he replies. “I don’t think it’s right for them to go with you to see her.”

            “I want to do it alone,” I state. “I’m sure Evan and Hadley will understand.

            Dad nods and takes a step towards me. “I’ll call her.”

            Before I can look up he’s wrapping me in his arms and hugging me tightly in the middle of our driveway. Three cars drive by before he pulls back, but not completely.

            “I’m proud of you, Bam. Really proud.” He smiles down at me but his eyes look sad. I wonder if it’s the happy kind.

            “I don’t understand why,” I mumble back in response.

            Dad laughs quietly and shakes his head. “That’s why.”

            By the time he leaves to get another box, I still don’t understand what he means.

            The next day we load the last minute things into the SUV and make sure we have everything we want to bring. For only going for a night, maybe two, we definitely over packed. I think it’s partially from my mother’s old books to sell and other odds and ends of hers, but instead of saying anything, my father and I shoot each other knowing glances.

            When Evan pulls into the driveway in his shiny Jeep I tear away from the spot where I was sitting on the trunk and walk towards him. He slams his door shut and brushes his dark hair away from his face just as the wind picks up. The moment his eyes land on me he grins, walking towards me with open arms.

            He’s dressed in a red, white and blue striped tank top and shorts, making him look incredibly beach-y.

            My cheeks flush at this new kind of affection but a smile materializes on my lips. Just as I wrap my arms around his thin torso someone clears his throat behind me and I jump away from Evan. His arms are stuck at my sides for a moment before he lowers them, staring over my head through his sun glasses.

            “Hi, Mr. Reed,” he says, not losing his cool in the least. My face is so hot that I feel like I’m on fire, so I take a deep breath before turning around, hoping no one notices my sudden embarrassment. 

             “Hello, Evan.” My dad smiles and I don’t detect any sign of anger towards Evan. In fact, my father looks as if he’s trying to hide his embarrassment, just like I am. “Bam says you’ll be driving her and Hadley down behind us?”

            Evan nods and removes his hand from my fathers. He shoves both hands inside his white pockets and rolls back on his heels. “Bam said that the SUV would be a little cramped so I offered.”

            “Do you mind a cat in your car?” Dad asks.

            As they talk about details of where they’re going and maybe putting some things in the Jeep’s trunk, Hadley and her mother pull up against the end of the driveway in a rusting, blue car. Her mother waves to me as Hadley gives her a half-hug and slams the door immediately after. She rushes to grab her things before speed-walking towards me. Her hair is up in a messy bun and loose strands catch in the breeze as she reaches me.

            “I’m so sorry for being late,” she says, a little breathless. I imagine her running around her little house and dodging her siblings before she came. “I overslept and-“

            “You’re not that late,” I interrupt. “Evan just got here.”

            She sets her things down beside her and rubs her palm across her forehead. “Thank God. I thought you might have left without me.”

            “I would never,” I laugh, taking one of her bags. I help her put them in the trunk of Evan’s car before going into the cottage to retrieve my over-the-shoulder bag and Cat. After my mother’s continued questions about contacting each other and where we will meet up, we finally get on our way.

            Evan puts a CD in the Jeep and rolls down the windows, letting the warm summer humidity blow away in the wind. Cat sits in my lap on his hind legs while his front paws linger on the edge of my passenger door. He sticks his head out most of the time, looking as if he’s smiling with his squinting eyes while the wind hits his face.

            “You’re not a dog,” I say, stroking his fur.

            Hadley laughs from the back seat. “Let him be whatever he wants to be. If he wants to be a dog, he can be a dog.”

            A smile peeks its way to the corner of my lips. “I’m pretty sure he is a cat though.”

            “I think he’s a dog.”

            I stick my hand out the window and let the air slide between my fingers and crash into my palm. Cat eventually sits back down and curls up on my legs, closing his eyes for a nap. For the most part we’re all quiet, Evan focusing on driving and Hadley and I on the scenery. We meet my parents at a diner about halfway to my hometown and grab ice cream and milkshakes to go. I have to help Evan eat in the car while he’s controlling the Jeep and my cheeks flush each time he asks me to feed him a French fry.

            As soon as the first sign indicating we’re almost in town comes into view, my stomach begins to do summersaults. Suddenly I let my milkshake melt and wish I never ate any French fries at all, hoping that they won’t soon make a reappearance. For a moment, I imagine my mother pointing to things on the drive in, saying how things look so different and yet so the same and I’m glad that I’m driving with Evan and Hadley.

            “Is this our exit?” Evan asks, nodding towards a cut-off. My parents are no longer in front of us. I think we may have passed them a ways back.

            I manage to choke out a yes and Evan signals towards the cut off, bringing us closer to home I no longer want to return to. As if sensing my anxiety, once we’re on a straightaway he takes my left hand in his right and gives it a strong squeeze.

            Everything looks exactly the same to me in memory, but as we pass familiar stores, homes and signs, I feel like I’m looking at them through someone else’s eyes, someone who has only seen pictures. I’m detached from this place though it’s where I spent most of my life. I feel like I never really lived here at all.

            We pull in the two-story brick home driveway sooner than I expect. We beat my parents to the beige home that looks like somebody else’s and certainly not mine. Someone has been cutting the grass and trimming the bushes, giving the appearance that the empty house has been lived in this whole time.

            I set Cat on the passenger seat while I tear my hand away from Evan’s. My shoes hit the pavement with a thump like they had many times before, only it was a different day, and a different Bam. My fingers linger on the door handle as I stare up at my house. Over the summer, the tiny, musty cottage has become somewhere I felt safe in when I didn’t think I could ever feel that way again. Returning here doesn’t feel the same way.

            “It’s a nice house.” I don’t notice Evan until he puts his arm around my waist a follows my gaze. “A nice neighbourhood, too.”

            Hadley carries a sleepy Cat in her arms while we put our things at the front door, waiting for my parents. By the time we have everything out of the Jeep, including our leftover fast food, my parents still haven’t come down the street and pulled into the driveway.

            “Do you have a key?” Hadley asks, bouncing Cat like a baby against her collarbone. “Or do you want to call your dad?”

            I shrug, and shake off the feeling of not wanting to enter. “We can go inside.”

            I snag the extra key from under the rose flower pot and put it in the lock. The key turns in my hands and the lock makes a click before I remove the metal. My breath catches in my throat as I brace myself for whatever kind of feeling I’ll get as I open the door. Like ripping off a Band-Aid, I turn the knob and throw open the door.

            Nothing happens.

            Everything looks exactly as we left it, if not cleaner. I expect memories to form in flashes as I kick off my shoes and look around the foyer, or when I let my fingers crawl over the fabric of the living room couch. Even the old quilt, one I had used each night to snuggle with doesn’t trigger anything. I glide through the kitchen as if this is somebody else’s house. Still, nothing happens. Things happened here, in this house. Each memory involves Cade. But nothing here reminds me of him. The memories remain exactly where they should – in the past.