The Vanishing Girls Of Willow Creek (Willow Creek, #1)

Chapter Seventeen

Good friends are like stars. You don't always see them, but you know they're there. - Unknown

I couldn't remember when I fell asleep, but it must've been sometime after talking with my mom. The next thing I knew, a hand was shaking my shoulder.

"Sweetheart. It's time to get up."

Her voice was cheerful. I groaned, rolling onto my back, the scratchy hospital blanket tangling around my legs. The light filtering through the curtains was too soft, too kind for the day ahead. I blinked, my eyes adjusting slowly, the room coming into focus. The smell of antiseptic lingered, sharp and unrelenting.

"Harley," she said again, her tone firmer this time. I dragged myself upright, my head pounding. She was holding out a stack of clothes, neatly folded. "You have to get ready for school."

School. The word felt like a punch. My stomach twisted. "What about Jon?" I asked, still half asleep.

"The doctors think he should take the day off. Hopefully, he'll be released later today."

I nodded, but the words didn't sink in. My brain was still foggy, still clinging to the edges of sleep. I yawned, my jaw cracking, and she rustled through a plastic bag beside me. The smell hit me first—cinnamon, warm and sweet, cutting through the sterile air. My stomach growled immediately.

"Hurry up and get dressed," she said, her voice softening. "I brought you some clothes. And breakfast."

The cinnamon smell grew stronger as she pulled out a wrapped bar. My mouth watered, but the taste of guilt was sharper. Jon was still in the bed across the room, his breathing steady but shallow.

"Is that...?" I started, my voice trailing off.

"Apple cinnamon breakfast bars? You betcha." She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Baked 'em fresh this morning just for you two."

I took the bar, the wrapper crinkling in my hand. The first bite was familiar—soft oatmeal, the gooey apple-cinnamon filling, with an icing sugar drizzle. The closest thing I could compare it to was a Nutri-Grain bar, which, coincidentally, I only ate the apple cinnamon ones. It was a comfort, but it didn't erase the knot in my chest.

"Mmm. Do I smell your mom's apple cinnamon bars?" Jon's voice was groggy as he opened his eyes.

I glanced over at him, his face pale against the white sheets. "She made extras just for you. Better eat them before I do."

He chuckled weakly, reaching for the bar I handed him. His fingers brushed mine, and for a second, I felt the weight of everything we weren't saying.

"I'll be right back, you two," my mom said, her voice too bright. "Harley, you better start getting ready soon."

She left the room, the door clicking shut behind her. The silence that followed was heavy, pressing against my ribs.

Jon took another bite, his eyes closing as he savored it. "Your mom's the best," he said, his voice quiet.

I nodded.

Today was going to be a long day. A day without my best friend.

"Ugh. I don't even want to go to school without you," I muttered, my voice low, almost swallowed by the hum of the fluorescent lights overhead. "Today's going to be so boring. Who else will I talk to?"

Jon let out a small chuckle, but it sounded thin, like it took effort. "I can't believe I'm saying this. But, isn't Damon in your biology class?"

I paused, my brain scrambling to place the name. Damon. Right. The kid who always sat in the back, doodling in his notebook instead of taking notes. "Oh yeah. You're right," I sighed, my shoulders slumping. "But that's only first period. Gym will be a total nightmare without you."