The Boy Who Has No Belief (Soulless 7)

Emerson heated up their leftovers from the night before, and we ate together at the table before we watched a movie in the living room. When it grew late, Emerson told Lizzie it was time for bed. “Brush your teeth and go to bed.”

“What? It’s not a school night.”

“Doesn’t matter. Still need your beauty sleep,” Emerson said.

Lizzie rolled her eyes. “I could not sleep ever and still be this beautiful.” She left the couch beside me and walked into the kitchen.

Emerson smacked her butt as she walked past.

I watched the TV again.

Lizzie returned a moment later, holding my book in her hand. “Sign it for me?”

I stared at the book in her hands, seeing my name on the cover along with my best-selling label. I stared for a moment before I lifted my gaze and looked at her.

“I’m only on the second book, but I’ll get there.” She extended the pen.

I still didn’t move because the request was so unexpected. “Um…”

Lizzie sat beside me and placed the book in my lap. “And make it out to Liz…since that’s what you call me.”

I lifted my chin and looked at Emerson.

She smiled from her seat in the armchair.

Lizzie handed me the pen. “And make it good. I want to show everyone at school.” She left the couch and walked into the hallway. “Night, losers.”

Emerson rolled her eyes. “Night, honey.”

I opened the first page that had the copyright details and the publisher information. The pages were cream-colored, and the font for the title was in a futuristic style. I grabbed the pen but didn’t write anything.

“Don’t take as long as you did with mine…”

I looked back at her, seeing the smile on her face that suggested she was joking. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say what you really feel.” She turned back to the TV like she was trying to give me privacy.

I stared at the book awhile longer, trying to think of the right words to add to the blank page. When the message came to me, I pressed the pen to the paper and started to write.

For Liz,

The best student I’ve ever had.

-Your friend,

Derek Hamilton

I closed the book and clicked the pen so the ink wouldn’t get everywhere.

“What did you write?”

I left the couch and walked toward her before I handed it over.

She flipped the page and read the message, her eyes softening. “Aww, she’ll love that.”22Emerson“I’m nervous.” Lizzie stood beside me on the sidewalk as we waited for Derek to pick us up on Friday.

“Don’t be.” We didn’t have a car, so we had no way of getting to the cabin outside the city, so Derek had offered to drive back and get us. “His parents are very nice and warm.”

“I know, but…I don’t know.”

I rubbed her back as I stood beside her. “Trust me, you’ll do great. They’re going to love you.”

“I hope so.”

Derek appeared in his black Range Rover and then pulled over at the curb.

We both climbed inside, fastened our safety belts, and then we were off. Derek was in black jeans and a maroon sweater, his jaw freshly shaven, his handsome features stark and undeniable.

“Hope you guys aren’t still full from yesterday.” Derek drove with one hand on the wheel while the other moved to mine so he could hold it on the center console. “Because we’ve got a lot of food at the house.”

“I mean, I’m always hungry,” Lizzie said. “That won’t be a problem.”

“What about you, baby?” he asked without looking at me.

I liked that he still called me that, even in front of my daughter. “I skipped lunch, so I’m pretty hungry.”

“Great.” He maneuvered out of the city with a single hand, getting onto the open road once we were past the tunnel. With more distance between us and the city, the wilder the landscape became, showing patches of snow along the road and in the fields.

Lizzie had her face pressed to the window as she looked outside. “It looks like it’s going to snow.”

“It usually does on Thanksgiving every year,” Derek said. “At least out here.”

I knew Derek spent a lot of his childhood at this cabin, so I was excited to see, to imagine those steps he took as a five-year-old boy.

An hour later, he made it past one security gate and then another, and drove down the gravel road between tall pine trees and approached the front of the house. There were already cars parked outside, probably from his siblings.

Derek parked the Range Rover then we walked up the steps to the front door. Voices were already audible inside, then uproarious laughter.

Lizzie stilled. “Sounds like people are drinking some wine…”

I gave her a gentle smack on the arm. “Be polite.”

Derek smiled. “She’s fine. They’ll get a kick out of her.” He opened the door and walked in first. “We’re here.”

The voices turned quiet, and Cleo emerged from the living room and to the front door. “Happy Thanksgiving!” She threw up her arms and hugged her son even though she’d seen him yesterday and then turned to Lizzie. “It’s so lovely to meet you, Lizzie. You’re so pretty.” She opened her arms and hugged my daughter tightly.