Free So Over It by Stephanie Morrill Page A

dining room table, but there were two stereo systems and a TV that took up nearly an entire wall.
    As Kelli promised, I found the bathroom clean. I washed my hands with off-brand soap that smelled of gummy bears and dried them on what had clearly been one of their mom’s old dish towels—red gingham printed with green peppers. Soon, this might be my life too—skimping on soap and using castaway towels. Maybe living with Kelli. Working a lousy job or two.
    A thrill ran up my spine as my hands grew clammy with fear. How could I be so conflicted about the idea of moving out on my own? A year ago, when my life was warring parents and a pesky little sister, I’d yearned for this moment. Now that it had arrived, would I be brave enough to seize it?
    Walking through the house to the back porch, I heard the muffled sound of my cell phone beeping from my beach bag, indicating a message. I thought I’d silenced it back at the beach.
    When I pulled out my phone, I found I’d missed another call from Connor and now had two voice mails. I couldn’t resist finding out why he’d called twice.
    As I waited for my password to register, Kelli’s loud, clear laugh reached me. Why was I wasting time checking voice mail? I should be out on the patio enjoying my new friends.
    I moved my finger to disconnect the call, but stopped when Connor’s excited voice burst in my ear. “I can’t believe you sent me such awesome news in a text message! I’m so happy for Heather. And Brent seems like a really nice guy. You like him, right? I think you said you did, but I can’t remember now. Anyway . . . thanks for letting me know. Talk to you later. Bye.”
    Thankfully no one could see me smiling. Or saving the message when it made so much more sense to just delete it.
    Connor’s voice came on the line again, this time more subdued. “Hey . . . I hoped you’d pick up, but I probably should’ve expected voice mail. Anyway, I thought I should apologize for yesterday when I hung up on you. I heard that guy and just . . . And it’s stupid because you told me when you left that we were over, so I had some idea that you’d be moving on, but . . . I don’t know. I sound stupid. All I wanted to say is I’m sorry for reacting the way I did.” He paused and my breath caught. “I miss you, Skylar. Hope to see you soon.”
    I snapped shut my phone, blinking away the tears blurring my vision. How could I even think of going back home? I’d just wind up back together with Connor. Or falling back into the trap I had this spring—Eli and parties and so on. I could not let that happen again.
    “Hey, Skylar, everything okay?” Justin called through the screen.
    I shoved my phone into my back pocket, along with my cozy feelings for Connor. “Everything’s fine.”
    I rejoined my new friends on the patio, all smiles and chatter. They didn’t know to look for the tick in my left eye to see if I was emotional. Or the bridge of my nose creasing when I fought back tears. They didn’t know me, but they wanted to, and I wanted them to. Or at least the things I didn’t mind sharing.
    And with their help, I could reinvent Skylar Hoyt.

10
    “You, like, have to come back,” Lisa said with a loud pop of her gum. “There’s nothing to do here.”
    “Yeah, sounds great,” I said as I applied mascara. Juggling my cell phone, compact, and Lash Factor brought a pang of nostalgia for the spacious vanity in Abbie’s and my bathroom. At least in three days I wouldn’t be sharing Grammy and Papa’s half bath with my entire family.
    “Oh, has Madison told you? Eli’s hooked up with this really obnoxious girl. She laughs at everything he says. I’m not even kidding.”
    I forced myself to giggle along with her. I’d hate for Lisa to suspect I felt strange about Eli replacing me. Not that I hadn’t expected it. We hadn’t talked since that night Connor came to get me because of Abbie’s meltdown. Which, now that I thought about it, really irked me. Eli