The Road That Leads to Us (Us 1)

He chuckled. “They’re still in school. The high school hasn’t let out for the summer yet.”

“Oh, right,” I mumbled, having forgotten that my college courses ended before their schedule did.

“What happened with your road trip?” My mom asked.

“My friends are a bunch of cunt waffles.”

“Willow!” She admonished. “That’s not nice.”

“They’re not nice,” I reasoned. Waving my arms dramatically, I began to explain my t

ragic tale. “I showed up at Lauren’s apartment, where I was supposed to pick her and Greta up—and someone please explain to me who the hell would name their child Greta. I mean, honestly.”

“Willow,” my mom warned.

She said my name a lot.

She even had different ways of saying it.

So I’d know when I was in trouble, or she was irritated.

She was definitely irritated at the moment.

Me interrupting her and my dad about to go at it like a couple of rabbits probably added to that—not just my tendency to ramble endlessly.

“Sorry,” I said, even though I wasn’t really sorry. “Anyway, I get there, and I’m knocking on the door, and I’m all like, ‘Let’s gooooo my kemo-sabes!’ and then Lauren opens the door dressed in a robe. A robe. And informs me that they’ve changed their minds and roughing it isn’t appealing. Instead, they’re going to the Hamptons because Greta’s parents have a place there beside Ryan Goosling or whatever his name is.” I paused, pulling in a lungful of air. “I just don’t understand who in their right mind would pass up a road trip in order to sunbathe and spy on a guy with a name that sounds like goose.”

My parents stared at me and then their eyes slid to each other.

They both looked like they were fighting laughter at my pain.

Jerks.

I lifted the cup of tea to my lips and winced at the taste before setting the mug on the bedside table.

My dad, he tried, but he could not make tea to save himself.

“Princess, not everyone’s like you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I bristled.

He chuckled. “Simmer down, Tiger. All I’m saying is, you’re adventurous. A sedentary life isn’t for you. Most people aren’t like that. They’re afraid to put themselves out there into the unknown, but you’re not.”

“Are you saying I should join the traveling circus? Because that idea is looking more appealing every day.”

“Nah,” he laughed and leaned forward to tap his finger against my toe, “I’d miss you too much. Sending you off to college was bad enough.”

I frowned at the mention of college.

“What is it?” My mom asked softly, picking up on the sudden shift in me. She was perceptive like that.

I shrugged, picking up one of the many throw pillows on my bed and hugged it to my chest.

“Nothing,” I lied. “I’m just tired and cranky.”

She looked at me doubtfully. “Are you sure that’s it?”

I nodded.