Starlee's Hope (The Wayward Sons 4)

“You sure you can make it up the ladder?”

“With a little help,” she smiles, placing my hand on her hip.

She climbs the ladder just fine, making me wonder if she’s not as drunk as she seems. On the second floor it’s another screened porch, complete with a trap door to keep people from coming up or down. I close it, just in case Starlee really is wasted. I don’t need her tumbling through a hole.

The little spot is quiet, giving a reprieve from the thumping music below. The view is amazing—the faint outlines of the lake and mountains in the distance. When I get a good look at the area, I see there’s a large swing that’s more couch than bench. There’s a thick padded cushion and soft-looking pillows, along with a fuzzy blanket hanging over the back.

“Ohh that looks comfy.” She lunges for the swing and I hold onto her to keep her steady. She lands with an awkward thud anyway, the swing chains rattling. She pats the cushion next to her. “Sit with me?”

I sit and she urges me to recline. When I do, leaning into a puffy red pillow, she kicks off her shoes, curling into me. The bare skin of her arms is pebbled from the cold.

“Where’s your sweater?” I ask.

She shrugs. “Lost it.”

I shake my head and reach for the blanket, spreading it over her legs, tugging it up to her shoulders. Her arms wrap around my waist and she rests her head on my chest, absorbing my warmth.

“What came over you in there?” I ask, finding that whole scene out of character. Starlee’s fun and carefree but usually only with us or back in Lee Vines. At school or in a group there’s usually more hesitation—one I relate to.

She looks up at me, hand reaching out to touch my chin. Her hands are soft, warm despite the cold, but send a shiver down my limbs. “I don’t know. Do you ever just feel like running away?”

From anyone else it may be rhetorical, but Starlee has run away before—ran here. Are we not enough? Does she want more?

She’s holding my gaze, waiting for an answer. I swallow. “From my dad, yeah, every day. But beyond that all I’ve ever wanted was the stability of a home.”

“And you have that in Lee Vines?”

“As much as I’ll ever get, I think, until…”

Her eyebrows furrow. “Until what?”

“Later, I guess. If I have a family of my own.”

She nods, but doesn’t push. It’s an unspoken understanding that the future isn’t a conversation any of us are ready to have. There’s so much that comes first. The decisions about college. George’s art school. Jake’s exams. Dad’s court hearing.

“I don’t know what to do, Charlie.”

Her thigh hitches over mine, pulling me closer.

“What do you mean?”

“For the future. College. Do I even want to go? Where? Study what? I’m not like the rest of you with goals and aspirations. For so long I just did what my mother told me, never knowing what I wanted on my own.” She swallows. “Until I met you. When I met the four of you, I knew what I wanted—but beyond that—I’m a mess."

Her forehead is creased and it’s all unnecessary. She’s winding herself up for no reason. I brush her hair aside, trailing my fingers across her cheek and down her neck. “Do you want my opinion?”

“Please.”

“It’s probably hard to imagine how messed up we all were when Sierra brought us into her home. George was a complete spaz, sneaking out, tagging what he could. Dex, as you know, was just a burnout with a nasty attitude problem and temper. Jake, a basic dum

b jock. Me? I could barely talk to anyone. I was deeply lost in my gaming. Coming to a party like this would have been unheard of. Sitting with a beautiful girl like you would have been a fantasy.”

She smiles. “So Sierra changed that?”

“Sierra, the social workers, therapy…we learned to turn our talents into a coping mechanism and then honed them into actual skills.” I link my fingers with hers under the blanket. “At least, hopefully.”

“My coping skills involved me hiding out at home and rebelling against my mother.”

“Maybe, but what I’ve noticed is that you’re really good at helping people. You’re awesome at the service projects. Not just the planning and organizing, but working with people directly. You’re great with guests and customers at the lodge or Wayward Sun. You have a way of anticipating people’s needs.” Her ear rests close to my heart and she makes little circles on my stomach. “You’re not afraid of anything, Starlee. You completely took us in stride, and trust me, loving two juvenile delinquents, one social recluse, and a jock with severe learning disabilities isn’t easy. Ask our parents.”