Where We Used to Roam Jenn Bishop (red white royal blue TXT) 📖

But you barely know me.

“Well?” he says.

I’m not sure what to do. He trusts me. We’ve been talking for only ten minutes and already he’s treating me like… like a friend. He probably shouldn’t. He doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into.

“Come on.” Tyler reaches his hand out for the book. “I’ll take it to Stephanie. She’ll check it out for me. I’ve got an in with her. Big-time.”

An in with the librarian? What is he, the male version of Becca? Except, no. He’s weirdly self-confident. Becca would never be this way with a stranger our age.

“You sure?”

“For the billionth time, yes.”

By the time Sadie comes over, the bison book is back in my hand with a little printed slip tucked inside. “Of course you would find a book about bison. You’re really obsessed, huh?”

I shrug.

“See you around,” Tyler says. Just then I catch the cover of the book in his hand. Boy Meets Boy. The words are inside little candy hearts.

It doesn’t necessarily mean he’s gay, I tell myself. Still, I wonder.

As we head for the exit, I ask Sadie, “So what’s your project?”

“Just this math thing. Nothing exciting.”

As I unlock my bike, I can’t stop myself from comparing Sadie to Austin. I just want to get to know her a little, but she’s so closed off. With Austin, any question is like an open invitation for him to ramble on about who knows what. At least that’s how it used to be.

But then again, he’s my brother. And Sadie? She doesn’t have to open up to me. We’re not anyone to each other.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

When Sadie and I get back to the house, we find the kitchen table covered with maps and travel books. “I’ve got an idea,” Delia says with a grin.

Sadie snags an apple from the fruit bowl and mumbles, “Oh great,” before biting into it with a snap.

“You haven’t even heard it yet.” Delia pretends to be insulted and turns to me. “I bet Emma here keeps an open mind. Right?”

Before I have a chance to answer, Sadie sneaks in another quip. “That’s because she’s not your daughter.”

“Oh, stop it already, Sades. Enough with the suspense. Here is my idea.” Delia stretches her hands out for the official announcement. “A girls-only camping trip!”

“Can I bring some friends?” Sadie asks, although with her mouth full of apple it sounds more like “Can I brih suh fruhz?”

Delia furrows her brow. “We’re the girls. Us three.”

Sadie eyes me and her mom before swallowing. “Oh.”

“Oh, come on. We don’t have to go far. Just the Bighorns. Emma’s never been. All of this is new to her. What do you say, Em?”

I’m torn between pleasing Delia and appeasing Sadie. “That sounds fun,” I say. “But I don’t mind if one of Sadie’s friends wants to come along.…”

Delia bats that suggestion away. “There’s plenty of time for Sadie to hang out with her friends all summer. But we’ve only got two months with you. Let’s make ’em count, kiddo.” She squeezes my shoulder. “You like camping, right?”

I have a feeling there’s only one correct answer to this question. “Suuuure.” In truth, we O’Malleys haven’t camped since that one time when I was in third grade. Our first mistake was trying to cram all four of us into one tent. Evidently I kept kicking Austin in the night. And then I woke up in the middle of the night having to pee but was too afraid to walk to the restrooms and may have wet my sleeping bag and—yeah, beyond that I’ve blocked out the rest of the camping trip.

“Great!” Delia claps her hands together. “Oh, and I just finished this article in Real Simple about unplugging, and I think to truly experience nature, we’re going to have to leave the cell phones at home.”

“Mom, no,” Sadie says.

“Only for a couple nights. We’ll get back into town just in time for your summer school class on Tuesday. It’ll be good for all of us. We’re all, myself included, far too addicted to—” The second that word comes out, she winces. “Oh, Emma.” She turns to me, her mouth in this puckered pity frown, and I want to evaporate. No, really. I want to turn into air, be invisible.

Aside from the conversation with Chris this morning, no one’s said anything about Austin. But I guess I knew that couldn’t last.

“It’s okay,” I tell Delia.

“No, it isn’t. I’m sorry, Em. We use these words so carelessly sometimes, not thinking what they truly mean to people.”

Sadie stands there uncomfortably, twisting the stem on the apple core. What does she think about Austin? Does she judge him—me, my parents? She sets the apple core on the table and snags her phone out of her pocket, proving Delia’s point.

“When would we leave?” I ask, eager to change the subject.

“In an hour or so? We’d get in just in time for dinner. How does that sound?”

“Like I have a choice,” Sadie mutters, scooping up the apple core and chucking it in the nearby trash can. It hits the bottom with a clang, and then she retreats downstairs, resigned to tagging along on this trip.

“Don’t worry about her,” Delia says, once Sadie’s out of earshot. “She’s still adjusting to everything. We’ll have fun, the three of us. You’ll see.” Her earnest smile makes me think it’s still possible. In any case, the decision’s not mine to make. I’m just a guest here.

I excuse myself and head downstairs with my library book. Worry about Sadie? Why would I waste any time worrying about Sadie?

No, her reaction makes perfect sense. I only wonder why Delia doesn’t see it. Maybe she feels indebted to my mom in some way, enough to help out, but Sadie’s got nothing to do with it.

There’s no space left in my mind to be concerned about Sadie when there’s so much to worry about with Austin. If Mom and Dad think putting two thousand miles between me and Austin will stop the