Free Everything That Makes You by Moriah McStay Page B

no other choice, Fi took Jackson’s arm. With Marcus a step behind, the three walked across the coffee shop.
    When Fi got to her brother, she grabbed him and muttered an awkward thanks to Jackson. He shrugged and walked back to their table.
    Marcus watched as he walked away. “My brother’s usually a little nicer, too.”
    Ryan was still with the blue-haired girl, so Fi wasn’t sure what to do next. In a matter of seconds, Ryan would remember their mother and drag Fi home. But she liked this boy, with his brainy book references and offbeat sense of humor. “Well, it was nice meeting you.”
    â€œWait,” Marcus said. “Can I have your number?”
    She rattled off her number so quickly, she hoped she didn’t look desperate. He typed it in his phone and pushed send . Her phone buzzed in her pocket.
    â€œSo you’ll have mine, too,” he said, smiling everywhere.
    Ryan finally noticed his crippled sister and the boy with her phone number. “Thanks for bringing her over, man.”
    â€œMy pleasure,” Marcus said.
    â€œRight,” Ryan said, brow furrowed. “We need to go.”
    Fi pointed to her arm linked around his. “I’ve been waiting.”
    She said good-bye to Marcus, who told her he’d call, and she didn’t even mind that Ryan grunted under the awkward bulk of her weight as they walked outside. All the way down the ramp, to the car, and on the drive home, she barely noticed the cast or the pain or her brother’s curious glances.
    His name— Marcus. Marcus King— swirled through her brain on endless repeat.
    As she cradled the hand Marcus had shaken, Fi asked Ryan, “Do we have Lord of the Rings?”
    â€œIn the attic, I think.”
    â€œHow long is it?”
    â€œThree books, like, four hundred pages each. Why?”
    â€œI’ve got all this time now,” she said. “I think I’ll read it.”
    She hoped she wouldn’t finish it before he called.

JANUARY
FIONA
    When Fiona got home from school, her dad was sitting at the kitchen table. He held up a thick envelope.
    â€œIs that—” she asked.
    His grin was huge. “From Northwestern. Mailman just dropped it off.”
    She took the envelope like it might explode, turning it back and forth in her hand.
    â€œOpen it,” he said. “I’m dying here.”
    She slid a finger under the seal and pulled out the five or so papers folded tightly inside. Her dad read over her shoulder. Two seconds later, he whooped, spun her around, and hugged her like she was little again.
    â€œYou got in!” He called upstairs. “Caroline! She got in!”
    Fiona sank in the chair and reread the letter twice. Early decision. Classes available in both the creative writing program and the music school. Requirements to maintain the scholarship.
    She held up the letter. “I got a partial scholarship.”
    Her father whooped even louder. “Caroline, get the hell down here!”
    Her mother came down the stairs, dripping wet in her robe, her hair wrapped in a towel. At the same time, Ryan walked through the back door, his soccer uniform clinging to every part of his body it touched. Grass, sweat, and dirt smeared the rest.
    â€œWhat’s going on?” they asked in unison.
    When her dad told them, Fiona was swamped in hugs of varying degrees of moisture. Her mom started to cry. Her dad commanded Ryan to shower and made reservations at Folk’s Folly. Fiona sat back and reread her letter five more times.
    â€œCan Lucy come to dinner?” she asked.
    â€œOf course. David, too?”
    Oops. “Yeah. David, too.”
    What was with her, lately? What kind of person forgets her boyfriend ? A few weeks ago, she’d gotten sidetracked by a song she was working on and forgotten all about their date. She kept zoning out during his exhaustive Monday morning football analytics. She even might have blanked out on his