Free Stolen Wishes by Lexi Ryan Page B

tuck her hair behind her ear
and dry her wet cheeks with my thumb. “What’s wrong?” Jesus. Is
this about what she just did? Does she think that makes her like
her mom? Should I have stopped her? “Talk to me.”
    She draws in a shaky breath, rolls off me,
and walks across the room to look out the window. I follow her, my
stomach churning and sour. I’ve never seen her this upset.
    “I knew this couldn’t last, but everything
was going so well. Now she’s ruining it all.”
    Her words terrify me. I knew this
couldn’t last . “You’re not making sense. What couldn’t last?” I
already know she’s talking about us, but I don’t want to admit it
to myself. I can’t let myself belief she’s ending this. Not
now.
    She presses her palm against the glass.
“We’re moving.”
    Those were the last words I expected to
hear, and at first they don’t even make sense to me. “What?”
    “To Las Vegas. We’re moving to Las
Vegas.”
    I feel like the earth has just been yanked
out from under my feet, but I make myself take a deep breath.
Turning her around, I look into her eyes. “Start from the
beginning.”
    “Mom and Dad are getting a divorce, and
Mom’s taking us to Vegas to live with this guy she met online.” Her
voice shakes and her eyes brim with tears.
    I slide her hand into mine, interlocking our
fingers and squeezing. “Can you stay with your dad?”
    She shakes her head, and a tear spills onto
her cheek. “He’s going on some spiritual journey in Asia. He’s
already left.”
    “You can stay with me,” I blurt. God, my
grandmother would pitch a fit, but I ask for so little, and we
could make it work. Somehow.
    Cally shakes her head. Another tear escapes.
“My sisters. You know my sisters need me. Mom’s cleaning up, but
what if that doesn’t last? What if…” She squeezes her eyes shut and
her chest shakes with her tears.
    I gather her against my chest and smooth her
hair. “Shh,” I whisper. “Shh.”
    I guide her back to the couch, where I pull
her into my lap and hold her.
    I keep my thoughts to myself and let her
cry. She needs this as much as I need to hold her, to feel her in
my arms while I still can.
    My brain is scrambling to come up with
reassurances, plans for how we’re going to make this work—because
there’s no alternative. We are going to make this work.
Anything else would be like rejecting a piece of me. She’s my
heart, my breath.
    We’re connected. Tied together by something
bigger than ourselves. Like the moon brings the tide back to the
shore, the stars will always bring me back to Cally.
     

Chapter Nine
    William
     
    Her room is empty. Her walls are bare, the
posters and knick-knacks taken down and packed into the boxes now
filling the moving truck parked in her driveway. Her dresser and
bed are gone, and her chair and reading lamp with them.
    All that remains is a makeshift sleeping
spot on the floor, a small pile with tomorrow’s clothes, and a tiny
toiletry bag.
    The sight tears me right in two, but I don’t
let on how much I’m hurting. I can’t. I’ve done everything to make
the most of our last weeks together, and tonight will be no
different.
    “You should get home,” she says. “Get some
sleep.”
    We’ve been sitting here most of the night,
cuddled into the corner of her room listening to NIN on my iPod. I
don’t intend on going anywhere without her tonight, and I certainly
don’t intend on sleeping.
    Her mom announced they’ll be leaving at
sunrise, and I won’t miss a second with her.
    I stand. “Come with me.”
    She takes my hand and follows me out the
front door. I can’t take another moment sitting in that house,
watching her eyes scan the bare walls, the empty closet, the spot
where the bed used to be. Besides, I have a surprise waiting for
her.
    Hand in hand, we walk to town and behind the
old factory and onto the dock. I have everything set up for us
here. We’ve made a habit of this since our anniversary. Blankets,
candles,