The Road That Leads to Us (Us 1)

“I don’t know…” He said, waiting for me to fill in the blanks. When I didn’t he added, “College?”

“Oh God.” Not even the sweet taste of the lollipop could keep the bitterness of the word college off of my tongue.

“Come on,” he coaxed, “tell me about it.”

“You wouldn’t understand.” Standard teenage rebuttal right there.

“Try me, Will.”

I sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to let this topic drop anytime soon—same with that atrocious nickname. Dean was stubborn like that. I was too. That was another reason why we clicked.

“I don’t have the excuse that it was my first time being away from home. We were always on the road growing up. So that’s not the issue,” I explained. “College is…it’s a whole different ballgame. I feel so lost up there. Like everyone around me is moving a hundred miles an hour and I’m standing still. I feel like I’m going nowhere and that sucks.” I paused, inhaling a lungful of air. “I’m not happy there, but I’m not sure if it’s that particular college, or me.”

“Do you want my honest opinion?” He asked, glancing at me with a softened look in his eyes before they darted back to the road.

“Always.”

“College isn’t for you, Will. You’re so much bigger than that place and it’s sucking the life out of you. It’s like you’re moving backward instead of forward.”

“That’s exactly how I feel.” He’d summarized it so much better than I had.

He reached over with his free hand and grabbed mine, entwining our fingers together.

He didn’t say anything more.

He didn’t have to.

His gesture said it all.

He was here and he wasn’t going anywhere.

Dean

Getting Willow to open up was never an easy feat, but she’d caved readily this time.

From the moment she admitted how she felt, and I told her I didn’t think college was for her, it was like a weight had lifted from her shoulders and she could finally breathe.

I hated to think of Willow, practically alone in New York City for all those months feeling miserable. A city like that wasn’t for Willow. She needed open space where she could run free and be herself. Instead she’d been trying to be what everyone thought she should be. I knew Willow’s parents wouldn’t want her feeling so trapped. They were good people, and loved her a lot, and all they’d want was for her to be happy.

Willow still held onto my hand and I had to admit it felt good.

Maybe a little too good.

I didn’t know what had come over me, but from the moment Willow surprised me at the garage it was like my axis had shifted and everything was pointing towards her.

She was my best friend, and I’d always loved her, but suddenly my feelings were becoming less and less platonic.

I was scared, terrified really, because Willow might not feel the same way. She was almost two years younger than me, only having just turned nineteen, and her father would probably lose it…actually, he most definitely would, if we got together.

But more and more, the idea of having someone else in my life—some faceless, nameless girl—held no appeal.

When I closed my eyes all I saw was Willow.

When I opened them in the morning my first thought was of her.

My brain seemed to be in a constant loop of Willow, Willow, Willow.

I didn’t know quite what to do with this sudden turn of events.