My mom smiles as she walks up to me and strokes her hand down my hair. “Are you excited, darling?”
I don’t miss Melanie’s eye roll.
“Yes,” I reply automatically, locked in my stepsister’s heavy gaze. Unlike her, I don’t complain. I stay in my lane and play the part of the perfect daughter, girlfriend, and student. “Can’t wait.”
My stepdad takes my suitcase and theirs, and we follow him outside into the cold air.
While he puts our belongings in the trunk, Jaxon hands me my black winter coat. It’s thick, reaching my knees, with fake fur that lines the hood.
He wraps me up in his strong arms, and I melt into his embrace, breathing in his warm scent of cedar and cinnamon. His padded parka rustles when he leans down to whisper in my ear. “Text me when you arrive.”
“I will,” I reply, shifting to gaze up at him. He’s so tall that I have to crane my neck.
Brushing the tips of his calloused fingers over my cold, reddening cheek, he smiles. “You’re freezing. You should get in the car.”
I move away, feeling as if I’m putting on a show, and attempt a weak smile before making my escape. As soon as the car door shuts, I fasten my seatbelt with trembling fingers, then brush my hair out of my face. Relief is an overwhelming emotion inside of me. I have one full week away from the suffocating expectations I try so hard to live up to. One week to simply breathe.
Or so I think until Melanie slides in beside me.
She fastens her seatbelt, puts her earbuds back in, and turns the volume up high. She doesn’t look at me again. Not until we arrive at the airport.
Even then, it’s a scathing look that reduces me to ashes.
One week suddenly feels like an eternity.
* * *
“What’s with the knife?” I question, seated on the edge of the bed while Melanie shuffles through the suitcase for an oversized hoodie to wear over her band T-shirt.
“Just because our parents made us share a room doesn’t mean you can talk to me.”
Unsurprised by the venom in her voice, I scan my eyes over the damask wallpaper and heavy, cream curtains. A rug covers most of the wooden floor to ward off the winter chill. Mounted to the wall above the chest of drawers—where an old box TV is playing the news in Norwegian—is a framed photograph of the fjords. The mattress is soft, and I can’t help but bounce on it. I’m a big kid at heart.
Melanie pulls out a black hoodie and puts it on before zipping the suitcase back up.
“What do you think our parents have planned for us today?”
“Don’t know. Don’t care.”
The news gives way to the weather report. I don’t understand the language, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that snow is predicted. “Maybe we’ll go hiking?”
Melanie snorts and pulls the suitcase down to the floor, then pushes it under the bed. “It’s negative degrees outside. We’ll freeze to death.”
I watch her for a moment while she grabs her earbuds from the nightstand. The room is small, so there’s not much space between our single beds. “You never answered my question.”
She sighs heavily as she plops down on the unmade bed. “What question?”
“What’s with the knife?”
“I always carry one with me. You never know when you’ll need to stab some fucker.”
Chewing on my lip, I study her as she selects a song on her phone. There’s something very intriguing about Melanie. Maybe it’s the simple fact that she hates me and refuses to have anything to do with me, or maybe she hates the world and everyone in it. This is the first time we’ve been in the same room together for this long. It’s uncomfortable, and I find myself talking to fill the silence, which annoys her even more.
“Did something bad happen to make you want to carry a knife?”
Ripping out her earbuds, she spits, “I just want to be able to defend myself, okay? Mind your own fucking business.”
“Okay, sorry.” I hold my hands up placatingly.
