Sunlight warms my face. I blink the remnants of sleep away, and every muscle in my body stiffens — I'm in Tara's bed.

Then, I remember why. 

I held her on the bathroom floor until she fell asleep. I'm not sure she was aware of what was going on. She was in a trance, but I couldn't leave her alone, so I stayed with her. I also slept well for the first time in forever.

She's curled up under the covers by my side, hands tucked under her chin, breathing softly as she sleeps. Like a magnet, she pulls me in, making me want to stay and sleep some more. Remember what calm feels like.

But I have no clue how to deal with the awkwardness if Tara wakes up and sees me here. Careful not to disturb her, I slip out of the warm sheets and go to my room.

A glance at my phone makes me dash to the bathroom. It's almost noon, and I had to be on the road half an hour ago. 

After the quickest shower I'm capable of, I open my closet and throw a bunch of clothes into a bag. 

When I'm dressed and ready to go, Tara is still asleep. I leave the apartment with something pressing on my chest. Maybe it's worry. Or confusion. Or a weird mix of both.

Calling Mom is the first thing I do when I get behind the wheel of my Mustang.

“Basti, I'm ready to go. Are you near?” she says after the first tone.

“Hey. I'll be late. Sorry. I had to take care of my roommate and overslept.”

Mom sighs. “Boys will be boys. Is Brian okay?”

He most definitely is. 

And yeah, I chose not to tell my parents about Tara yet. I'll have to listen to a hundred reasons why it's great that she's a girl if I do. Dad wouldn't care, but Mom is a different story. 

“He’s good,” I say. “See you in forty minutes.”

“Don’t rush.”

“No worries. I won't.”

My parents only have one car, and Dad needed it today, so I have to take Mom to the mall and suffer through the afternoon of shopping. 

I did this to myself by offering to go with her. She's miserable, stuck at home with nowhere nice to go in the vicinity, and Dad’s too busy to spend hours in packed stores. 

Music distracts me from my thoughts about Tara and last night on my way home. When I park in my parent’s driveway, Mom rushes out of the house and gets in my car, not even letting me unbuckle. 

She squishes my cheeks and plants a kiss on my forehead, and I shift in my seat, groaning. “Mom.”

“Okay.” She sighs. “I'm just happy to see you.”

“Me too,” I say, starting the engine. “How’s it going?”

“Your father’s at work day and night. I sent a ton of resumes, but no luck yet. How are your classes?”

“Good.”

“You’re not drinking a lot, are you?”

“Getting smashed every evening. Wasting my youth away.”

Mom smacks my thigh, and I burst out laughing. “Kidding.”

Even though I keep my eyes on the road as I drive, I can feel Mom’s gaze glued to my profile.

“Something’s going on.”

I drive onto the highway, heading in the opposite direction from Ashwick. It’s a last-minute change of plans Mom has no idea about, but she deserves a proper day out. Everyone deserves to catch a fucking break once in a while.

“What’s going on? What do you mean?” I ask.

“With you. You look happier.”

“Just slept well. And I'm taking you somewhere new.”

Mom’s eyes light up. She giggles like a little girl and claps, making me feel sorry for her. Dad needs to get a fucking clue before she dumps his ass. No job is more important than the person you love. 

“The new mall?” she gasps.

“Yeah. I need to get some gifts for the guys.”

Most of us are broke, but we do the Secret Santa shit, a.k.a the most embarrassing gift contest. Last Christmas, Evans got me red boxer briefs with white hearts all over them, and I have to do better than the fluffy pink socks I got him.

Mainly because he wore them proudly, saying they kept his giant feet warm. This year, I'll have to get him underwear with Baby Boy plastered across the dick area.

“... for your dad.”

I glance at Mom and nod, pretending I heard what she said. Twenty minutes later, I leave the Mustang in the parking lot of the mall and accompany her inside.

We're lucky because the stores aren't too crowded yet. Mom buys what she needs, and I carry the stuff she picks. 

Her eyes light up when she sees a new store called Cozy Home. She drags me inside, and while she talks to the clerk asking about curtains or some shit, I study the display of scented candles. 

None smells like the one Tara has, but I find something a bit similar and buy it for Mom, taking advantage of her distraction as she gapes at the framed mirrors.

We end up having lunch at the food court and see the rest of the stores.

Lucky for me, Mom doesn't realize one of the gifts I buy is for a girl.

***

The first few days at home are busy. I take care of the garden and the yard, paint the porch, and fix everything Dad didn't so Mom doesn't sulk. I wouldn't blame her if she did — I've hardly seen my father since I arrived. Mom and I had dinner without him every day, and my only hope is for him to be home tomorrow. It's Thanksgiving, and not spending it with us would be shitty on his part.

I have nothing to do for once. Mom settles on the couch in the living room to binge one of the soap operas she loves, and I go to the woods behind our house to burn some energy. 

Chilly air bites my cheeks, and I bury my hands in the pockets of my parka, walking down a narrow trail. It reminds me of the hiking trip Dr. Garcia took us on, and Tara appears on my mind like she did dozens of times since the break started. 

I sit on a log and take out my phone. There are no texts; Brian’s in his hometown with Leah, Evans is helping his mother take care of his younger siblings, and Nash and Connor, two other friends of mine, are with their families too.

My knee bounces. I run a hand over the back of my neck and pull up the messaging app.

Me: Hi.

I stare at the phone in my hands, smoothing my thumb over the edges, my heartbeat fast. 

Minutes pass, but nothing happens. I shove the cell in the pocket of my sweats and resume the stroll. Birds chirp around me, and bare tree branches rustle overhead, moved by the cold wind. 

My boots thud against the damp ground, and my thoughts spiral more and more with each step.

Why didn't she answer? Is she embarrassed, hurt, uncomfortable? Does she think I'll hold what happened that night against her? 

I guess I did everything to make her hate me. Then why did she agree to be my roommate?

My foot collides with a thick branch blocking the path, and I stagger, nearly losing my footing. I grip the trunk of the nearest tree, saving myself from falling flat on my face, and as I straighten, I catch a glimpse of someone behind the trees.

Our gazes collide. Before I can utter a word, Maverick runs away, disappearing among the towering pines.

I shake my head and rub my eyes.  That’s what happens when I’m sleep-deprived because how the hell would Tara’s friend end up in the woods dozens of miles away from home, in Ashwick of all places? And let’s not forget the guy could barely walk. 

I spin around and survey the dark forest. I’m definitely alone, but a trickle of unease lingers in my insides. I should do something about my insomnia. Maybe Mom worries for a reason, after all.

***

The following day, Dad’s home. When I go to have breakfast, he’s sitting at the kitchen table. Smoke hangs in the air, and I open the window right away. 

“Sorry,” he mutters, giving me a sheepish smile. “You painted the porch.”

I pour coffee into a mug and sit across from him.

“Yeah, I did. Mom asked me to.”

“Good boy,” he says. “How’s college?”

“Cool. Same old.”

“Do you need money?”

I take a sip. The drink burns my throat, and I wince, shaking my head. “I’m good. Will you be home today? Mom’s been grouchy because you’re never here.”

Dad leaves his cigarette in the ashtray and clasps his hands on the table. “It’s not by choice, Bast. When I accepted this position, I thought I’d spend days shuffling papers and drinking coffee, but too much is going on. I’ll be here today; I want to spend time with you two.”

“Try to do stuff with Mom, okay? She'll be happy.”

Dad rises from his chair and smiles at me. “Promise. I'll go check on her.”

As soon as he leaves, I grab my cell.  That Tara didn't reply puts a damper on my mood because almost a day has passed. She doesn't want to talk to me, and while Mom is happy as Dad helps her cook, I'm the one who sulks.

Over dinner, I struggle to pay attention to what my parents tell me. Maybe I should've talked to Tara before leaving to make sure she was okay. Fuck the embarrassment — she can't blame me for staying by her side after what I've seen. 

I still don't know what happened to her, but something did, and it involved blood.

“Basti.”

Mom puts more turkey on my plate, and I nod in thanks.

“What’s wrong?” she asks when I zone out again.

I heave a sigh. “Just worried about a friend. Listen, I know it wasn't the original plan, but I'll head back earlier if that's okay.”

“I took a couple of days off,” Dad says to Mom. “We could do something fun. If Bast is busy, we could plan something for just the two of us.”

Mom's eyes dart between Dad and me, looking for signs of conspiracy. Finally, she shrugs. “Sure. Why not.”

***

I drive back on Saturday, and my car must be significantly heavier because of the food Mom asked me to take. Not that I needed convincing — not having to cook for a few days is bliss.

I could say I know what I'm doing, but I don't. Tara didn't tell me when she was planning to return, but one thing is clear — we need to talk before classes restart, even if she doesn't want to.

Anxiety doesn't let go of me for a second. Not even when I park in the garage of our building do I feel calmer. It's unlike me to be this rattled, but I can't help it no matter how hard I try.

When I unlock the door to our apartment, it's silent, and the familiar scent of orange and vanilla hits my nostrils. I pad to the kitchen to unload the contents of the bags Mom gave me, and as I step into the kitchen area, something catches my eye.

Tara’s mug is in the sink. 

I rest the bags on the counter and open the fridge. 

It's full of half-eaten takeout lunches and dinners. They're more than enough to feed someone for a few days.

They're also enough for me to know Tara didn't go anywhere at all.