Page 6

My stomach does a stupid little dip. Chicago. As in the Phoenixes. As in–

“Bishop?”

Dad gives me a strange look. “Last I checked, he still plays for them.”

Right.

Obviously.

I reach for the Diet Dr Pepper on my desk and take a long drink, letting the cold fizz bite into the back of my throat.

“So, Bishop will be in St. Louis tomorrow?”

“That’s generally how away games work, Laney Bug.” Dad’s mouth pulls into an amused grin.

Good. Better than good. That’s fan-freaking-tastic!

I’ll be arriving in Chicago while Hayes Bishop is safely several hundred miles away.

The universe and I are finally on the same page.

“Sure you don’t need any help?” Mom asks as she heads toward the hallway, pausing at the door.

“I’ve got this under control.” I wave her off with considerably more confidence than the state of my room warrants.

Liar.

“Come on, Laura.” Dad hooks an arm around her shoulders. “I need your help with the potatoes.”

“Thank you,” I mouth.

“Welcome.” He mouths back over Mom’s head.

“And Delaney?” Mom twists around beneath Dad’s arm.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.” Her eyes shine brighter than her smile before she disappears into the hallway with Dad.

“Me too, kiddo. Dinner in an hour.”

“Okay. Love you both.”

Their footsteps fade down the hall, and for a second, the room feels too quiet. I take another drink of my pop and grab my 1989 vinyl. The sound crackles softly from my little record player, filling the space again.

Darcy makes a growly noise from the middle of my suitcase, no doubt getting hangry.

“Not a word.” I turn back to the boxes.

Books are done. I’ve already narrowed them down twice, which means I’m only taking forty-seven. Maybe forty-eight. Electronics, chargers, and vinyls are mostly done. Clothes, shoes, and accessories shouldn’t be too hard. Leggings and sweaters. Sweatshirts and leggings. One little black dress and both my coats. More leggings. Fuzzy socks.

Uggs. Check.

Converse. Check.

Tall black boots, just in case. Check.

Ballet flats for work. Check.