Page 15 of Waysider
With that haunting image at the forefront of her mind, Cass had silently gone to the drawer closest to the phone, where her mom kept the pens, and took one out.
Cass mentally pushed the memory away, blinking as she lowered her head and refocused. In front of her, the gates were wide open, like a beckoning hand. The dirt path between them was too narrow for a car. It wasn’t long, either. Through the archway, Cass could see where the path ended, and the courtyard surrounding it. People filled the space, some of them holding books, others carrying bags and backpacks, like her. They were clearly finished for the day, because some of the students were waving goodbye, and others streamed through wide doorways leading away from the bright, busy square. Cass knew she should probably go find Old Main, where she’d been told to check in, but she couldn’t seem to bring herself to take that first step forward.
Back home, Cass thought suddenly, her family would be getting ready for dinner. She could picture Gavin’s bent head as he set the table. The pink frills of her dad’s apron that said, Don’t worry, it’s better than it looks! The serious twist to her mom’s mouth as she washed dishes, or looked over their homework, or opened the mail. The house would be bathed in yellow, or pink, or whatever color was pouring through the patio doors and the window over the sink. But this warm image wasn’t Cass’s last memory of them.
She’d said goodbye at the airport.
She remembered each moment vividly. Getting into the seat her mother would usually occupy. Watching the neighbors’ houses move past. Pulling up to the curb.
As Cass had undone her seatbelt at Albany International, she realized how scared she was to leave them. She’d been away from her family before, but this time was different. Her mom had never stayed behind before. Although they’d barely spoken since the fight, Cass really thought she would come.
Cass knew the feeling would only get worse if they drew this out. She turned her face away, pretending to be distracted by everything happening beyond the window.
“Is it okay if I go inside alone?” she asked.
“Cass,” her father started. He stopped, though. Maybe he’d heard something in her carefully neutral voice, or saw something in the line of her shoulders. Or maybe he just didn’t know what to say. In the backseat, Cal and Gavin didn’t say anything, either. Seconds ticked by, thick and stilted.
In the end, their dad got out of the car. Cass and Cal followed suit, but Gavin stayed where he was. Somewhere else in the neighborhood, a stereo turned on, and “Time After Time” floated through the sun-dappled air. Silas took Cass’s bags out of the back and shut the door.
Cass reached for her bags. Just as her fingers wrapped around the straps, her dad hugged her. She was so startled that she didn’t try to avoid it, which was what she’d been doing since the accident. Today, Cass couldn’t bring herself to. She squeezed her eyes shut for an instant, allowing herself to find comfort in her father’s familiar laundry detergent scent.
As if he knew one second was all he’d get, Silas pressed a kiss to her temple and pulled back. “Give us a call tomorrow,” he said. “We want to hear how your first day goes.”
She didn’t nod, or tell him she would. Cass tended to break her promises, and she’d already let her dad down so many times. So she just mustered a hollow smile, secretly committing every detail of his face to her memory. Then she turned and stepped back onto the sidewalk. Cass had expected to see Gavin standing there, but he was still in the car. She set her bags down and bent so she could see his face. Her fingers curled around the edge of the door.
“I’ll see you at Christmas,” Cass ventured. But Gavin kept his gaze forward, and a pause swelled between them.
Cass glanced over at Cal, and a look of pleading flitted across her face. He just looked back at her, expressionless. What should I say? Cass mouthed to him. But Cal didn’t help her.
She let out a soundless, frustrated breath as she turned back to the boy in the car. Just like she’d done with her dad, Cass studied him. It felt like she hadn’t looked at Gavin—really looked at him—in such a long time.
Her younger brother had the Ryan hair, which fell into his eyes in bright, silken strands, but their mother’s long, solemn nose. There was the faintest sprinkle of freckles over his nose Cass had never noticed before. And what was that in his hands, a book? Was he reading for school, or because he actually liked doing it? She didn’t know him, Cass realized, startled by the thought. She’d never tried to, because she was always wrapped up in her own bullshit.
“Yeah, okay,” Gavin mumbled, finally responding to her. When had his voice gotten so deep?
Cass hesitated again. She thought about what her former self would’ve done, but apparently she hadn’t interacted much with Gavin back then, either. After another moment, Cass reached forward and gave his shoulder a soft touch. “Hey… I’m sorry I ruined your birthday,” she said.
At last, Gavin turned his head. As their gazes met, some of the tightness in Cass’s chest eased. He had their eyes, she thought. Hers and Cal’s. They had at least one thing in common.
“Earth to Cassie. Hey. You okay?”
Cal’s voice brought Cass back to the present. Her twin stood beside her on the sidewalk, and though Cass knew he must’ve hated saying goodbye to their family, he wore an easy grin. His bright hair fell into his eyes and his hands were shoved in his pockets, elbows hanging loosely at his sides. He’d never looked more like his old self.
And it was all an act.
“I need to find Old Main,” Cass said, averting her gaze. “Maybe you should wait here so no one sees you. No ghosts allowed, remember?”
“Crane didn’t know I was there,” Cal pointed out. “If anyone does see me, I’ll just act like a normal student.”
“Fine.” For once, Cass didn’t argue. She could feel Cal’s eyes on her, and the pressure she imagined against her skin was enough to finally force herself forward. Together, the two of them passed beneath the empty archway, and they fully entered the Else & Bellows Institute.
The building was easy enough to find—it was the one at the end of the path. Cass didn’t slow down to look at the campus, or pause to meet any of her new classmates. She could still feel Cal watching her, so she kept her focus on that distant doorway. Cass went up the stairs without hesitation, her boots squeaking, then grasped the long handle of a huge wooden door.
Inside, a lobby split off into three different hallways. Cass found a plaque that read, ADMISSIONS, and didn’t let herself pause at this door, either. She walked up to the desk where another girl sat, her hair gathered into a side ponytail, braces gleaming on her big, square teeth. A fan hummed in the corner, sending halfhearted gusts of air through an elegant room. Armchairs lined the walls, which were covered in a patterned green wallpaper, and an enormous window peered out at the courtyard. A palm tree swayed near the glass, its leaves partially obscuring the view.
“Here to check in,” Cass said, shouldering her bag. Cal drew to a stop beside her, but the girl didn’t so much as glance in his direction. Instead, she pulled a clipboard out and looked up at Cass with a polite expression.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
