Falling Like Leaves (Bramble Falls, #1)(79)

Fern leans back and shakes her head. “This is so much, Ellis. I’m so sorry you’re going through all of this at once.” I hiccup out another sob, and she reaches over and squeezes my hand. “If I’m going to be honest, your dad is kind of a dick, and that isn’t some new revelation.” I look at her, surprised. Fern and my dad have always gotten along great. “I never said anything because you worshipped him, but it always seemed like he was pushing an agenda. And now I think you’re finally realizing the kind of hold he had on you.”

I finish off the box of tissues and sigh. “Yeah, maybe, but it’s a little too late. I ruined everything and everyone hates me.”

Fern pulls her leg up onto the couch so she’s facing me directly. “Things may seem bad right now, but you’ve never met a situation you couldn’t plan your way out of. So—without considering anyone else’s dreams for you—tell me: What do you want?”

“I…”

How do I even answer that question? I have no idea anymore.

“Think about it,” Fern says, unpacking the food and handing me plastic utensils. “If you could be living the most ideal life right now, what would that look like? Would it be in the city? Or would it be in that little town?”

“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “Is there even anything here for me anymore?”

“Well, I’m here for you, babe. But let’s think about it like this: Is Cooper part of this ideal life?”

I nod emphatically. “One hundred percent.”

She hands me what appears to be a walking taco. “Then we’ll figure out how to fix things with him,” she says, grabbing a container holding a giant burrito. “I know it’s raw right now, but do you want your dad to be a part of your life? Eventually?”

My eyes sting as I say, “I don’t know how I’ll feel ‘eventually,’ but right now, no.”

“One less thing on your to-do list, then. But I have to remind you that without your dad, you will most likely not have a choice between the city and Bramble Falls—unless your mom lets you move in with me.”

“Which she won’t.”

Fern shakes her head. “No, she won’t. At least, not until next year. So you’ll need to decide if patching things up with your dad is worth being here.” I look at the floor. I can’t even imagine trying to talk to him again. “You’re probably going to need to fix things with your mom regardless, right?”

“For sure,” I answer. I really messed up with her.

“Okay, so I think the plan is to go back to Connecticut and work things out with the people there. Then, with a little time and space, you can make a decision about your dad and New York.”

She’s right. That is the only thing I can really do right now.

I can’t worry about Columbia or New York or Street Media and my future until I fix things in Bramble Falls.

“What are you doing the rest of the evening?” she asks.

I’d been planning on staying here. I thought we’d eat, and I’d cry until I had no tears left, and we’d put on a movie.

But now that I’ve gotten some clarity on what it is I need to do, the idea of wasting time wallowing makes me antsy.

“I’m going to head back to Bramble Falls,” I tell her. “I have some work to do.”

“Are you sure? You’re welcome to stay.” She takes a bite of her burrito.

My heart swells as I smile at my friend. God, I’m so grateful to have her. To know she’ll always have my back the way I’ll always have hers. Even if my dad isn’t in the picture for a while, Fern is a big part of why the city feels like home to me. I’ll still have my tether here, keeping me connected to New York, ready to help pull me back when it’s time. But for now I need to head north.

“I know,” I tell her. “But I’m going to go. Thank you for everything.” I hold up my walking taco. “Especially the food. It’s perfect for my trip to Port Authority.”

“Of course. Call and let me know how it all goes,” she says.

We hug goodbye, and with the city drenched in darkness, I hop on a bus back to Connecticut, leaving my old life behind and hoping like hell I can make it back before the Pumpkin Prom is over.



* * *



By the time I get back to Bramble Falls, the town is quiet. There are no lingering couples dressed in costumes, no leftover decorations, no music or snap-lock dance floor set up in the square.

It’s too late to knock on Cooper’s door, but there’s no way I can do literally anything until I talk to him. I need to make things right. So I go to his house anyway.

His bedroom light is off, but the TV is on.

Me: Are you awake?

I wait for a response, but I’m left on read. Okay, then.

Me: Come outside.

A few seconds later, he appears in his window. At first he looks surprised to see me. Then his face sours, turning annoyed.

Autumn Cooper: go away

“I’m not going away, Cooper. Come out here,” I shout, not caring if I wake up the whole neighborhood.

He rolls his eyes and disappears from the window. A few seconds later I meet him in front of his house.

“Hey,” I say quietly.

“What do you want?”