The Road That Leads to Us (Us 1)

I was sure even my sweat was sweating and the graduation ceremony hadn’t begun yet.

“Thank goodness you dressed up,” my mom leaned over to tell me, “it’s more than I can say for your father.” She glared at the jeans he wore with a red and black plaid shirt.

“Honey,” he rubbed her shoulder, “it’s the school’s colors. What’s wrong with that?”

“It’s our daughter’s graduation, I would’ve thought you could have at least made the effort to not wear something you wear practically every day.”

“I didn’t make the effort for Dean’s either,” he argued.

“I feel the love, dad,” I chuckled.

Beside me Linc snickered. “He’ll dress up for my graduation, mom. I’m his favorite.”

“You wish kid.” I reached over and ruffled his hair.

“Dude, don’t do that.” His cheeks reddened and he quickly flattened the strands. I noticed him glancing across from us at a girl his age.

“Oh.” I elbowed my brother. “Linc has a crush. Mom,” I leaned around my dad to see her better, “Lincoln has a crush,” I repeated.

Linc’s hand slapped against my mouth. “Shh, she might hear you!” He whisper-hissed.

I removed his hand with ease. “What’s her name?” I asked.

“I’m not telling,” he muttered.

“Boys,” my mom groaned, “keep it down.”

“Sorry,” we said simultaneously.

“Is Willow coming?” My mom asked, looking around.

We’d saved her a seat on the bleachers, but so far she’d yet to show.

But Willow was always late.

It was something I had accepted about her a long time ago.

“She’ll be here.” When Willow said she was going to do something, she did it.

My mom looked doubtful and continued to scan the crowd of people still looking for seats.

Two minutes before the ceremony was set to start I saw Willow’s white Lexus come barreling into the parking lot above the football field. It screeched to a stop as she parked in the middle of the lot—there were no available parking spaces—and tumbled out of the car.

“She’s here,” I informed my mom with a grin.

She shook her head as Willow came running down the main set of stairs into the stadium.

I stood and cupped my hands around my mouth. “Willow! Over here!”

She’d had her head down, wa

tching her step, but at the sound of my voice she looked up and her blue eyes collided with mine. She smiled widely and waved.

She hurried up the bleachers and I couldn’t help but scan the bare expanse of her legs. I was shocked she’d actually worn a dress, but I wasn’t surprised to see a pair of solid white Converse on her feet.

Willow was simple like that.

“I’m sorry I’m late.” She panted as she collapsed onto the empty space of bleacher beside me.