WAKE (Wattpad edition)

51. No baggage.

{Kadee}

It was a lot to ask from her parents—to trust her to drive alone for 10 hours round-trip and stay overnight with a guy and a woman her parents didn't know. She had to promise to check in every two hours by text, to pack her mace and whistle, to not talk to strangers on the road or pick up hitchhikers. ("Honestly Mumma, no one does that.") Finally, her father said quietly, "We trust you, Kamiko." He murmured to her mother, but in English so she could understand. "We raised them for this. To go."

"I'll be back on Sunday," Kadee said, and she couldn't stop the grin from breaking over her face.

On Saturday, she woke up way earlier than she'd ever get up for school, to shower and blow dry and braid her hair. She put on a minimal amount of makeup, and her favorite jeans—the ones that were too worn to wear to school but fit her perfectly. Her stomach was all butterflies and she couldn't eat anything. She made herself a smoothie and didn't stop once on the road, singing along with the radio to keep from thinking too hard about how the weekend might go. She was sure of just one thing: she'd been given a second chance, and she wasn't messing it up this time.

It was only mid-morning when her tires bumped into the lane Cary had described to her. She pulled slowly into the yard, taking in the cabin crouched on the edge of the trees, and the barns and outbuildings joined by fences in various states of disrepair. The first thing that struck her when she stepped out of her car was the quiet. It filled her ears and her chest with a big breath of pine-scented air. She could hear the wind moving the trees behind the house, and the drone of insects in the grass and wildflowers growing along the lane.

She looked down at her flats, dainty and bright in the clods of dirt, with a flash of regret. Definitely not the right shoes for today.

The screen door smacked and Cary's boots clattered down the steps. He pulled up a little ways away, his hands closed at his sides, looking sideways at her. She'd forgotten how wary he could be—how flat his face was when he was uncertain or afraid.

She flashed him a smile, her hands on her hips. "Hey, handsome." Her stomach was a flock of butterflies the size of swallows.

"Didn't expect you so soon." His voice was a little gruff, like he hadn't used it much yet today. Before she could answer, he hunched his shoulders and headed back up the stairs. "You want some coffee? Lunch?" He held the screen door open, looking back at her. The morning light had painted him all honey and rose, softening the bruise above his eye and the hard lines of his face. She wanted to put her arms around his faded quilted jacket and hold him tight—but she always wanted that. She wasn't making a move today until she was sure it was what he wanted too. This was her new leaf.

She smoothed her braid and passed beside him, glancing up through her lashes as she went by. He was looking down at her, and the corners of his mouth lifted when their eyes met. Like maybe she mattered to him too.

She prowled around the living room while he cracked eggs at the stove—really, the whole house was just one room—lifting dusty books off their stacks and prodding a heap of screws and bolts on the end table next to the ancient couch.

"Where's your aunt?" she asked.

"Probably in the barns. She gave me the day off."

Kadee leaned against the fridge, looking around the little kitchen. There were two mismatched wooden chairs at the table, and a wooden crate was standing on its end to make a third seat. "It's smaller than I pictured it," she said frankly.

Cary lifted his head and his expression was light and relaxed as he glanced around. "It's big enough. We're mostly outside, or in the barns."

She watched his hands work, feeling his eyes on her now and then. She'd also forgotten how quiet he could be—and for once, she didn't feel like filling the quiet with words. It wrapped around them, comfortable as his flannel jacket.