Saint

2

“You can still change your mind, you know.”

Forehead crinkling, I focus my attention on Carley. She’s standing in the doorway of my bedroom, dressed in pale pink scrubs, watching as I finish packing what few belongings I have left. Her expression is weary, her big blue eyes dulled with worry. I offer her a reassuring smile and shake my head.

“We’ve been over this a million times. I’m not changing my mind. This is a good thing, remember? I’m going to get an amazing education, and when I graduate and become a rich bitch, I’ll buy you a big ass house by the Gulf.”

The corner of her mouth tilts up, but I can tell she’s still reluctant about my decision.

“You’ve just been through so much, Mal,” she says on a deep sigh before raking her teeth over her bottom lip. “I don’t want you to make any rash decisions.”

“This isn’t a rash decision,” I try to assure her for the thousandth time since I received my invitation to attend Angelview. “This is a fresh start and a chance at a future I could have only ever dreamed about before.”

It’s been a month since my acceptance letter arrived, and as summer began to wane, my anticipation began to grow. When I had first told Carley about the letter, she was naturally skeptical and wouldn’t believe it was real until she called the admissions office herself. Anthony assured her that my enrollment was legit, and my scholarship was guaranteed. The school would even pay for me to fly to California. When she had hung up the phone, she acknowledged that everything sounded on the up and up, but she was still hesitant about me going.

I’ve been working to convince her that this is a good thing, but I’ve run out of time. My flight to Los Angeles leaves in two hours, and as much as I want Carley completely comfortable with my choice to leave, her reservations aren’t going to stop me. She knows this already, but it doesn’t keep her from trying to get me to stay.

“You don’t know anyone out there,” she continues as I zip up my black duffle bag and move to grab my laptop from the center of my bed. “You’re in a delicate place right now, and you’ve been doing so well, living with me and going to therapy. What if this is too much of a change too soon, and you undo all the work you’ve done since last year?”

I sigh, twisting around to face her. “Carley, I appreciate your concern, and I love you, but I need you to trust me right now, all right? I can handle this. Please, please believe that.”

She lets out a huff of breath and looks like she really wants to say something more. After a long pause, though, her shoulders slump in defeat and she pumps her head slowly. “All right, all right. I trust you. I believe in you. I’ll always believe in you, Mal, you know that.”

I grin as relief washes through me. I really wanted her to be on board with this. Stepping over my luggage, I throw my arms around her and hug her tight.

“Thank you, Carley. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

She hugs me back, and for a split second, I do feel a stab of hesitation. I feel so warm and safe with her. More so than I ever felt with Je

Carley has become my home.

But I know, in my soul, that I can’t stay here, even if I am almost three hours from Rayfort and the disaster I left behind because it’s still too close, and I’ll always be looking over my shoulder. I need to move on. I need to start over. I need to stop seeing flames and blood in my nightmares. I need to stop believing that every good thing that comes along in my life will be ripped away from me because I don’t deserve to be happy.

I need Angelview, and deep down, Carley knows I need it too.

We break apart, and my heart cries out, wanting to linger in her arms a little while longer. I need to get outside for my Uber, though, or I’ll end up missing my flight.

There are tears swimming in her eyes as she smiles at me. “Well, baby girl. I guess you should get going.”

I nod and reluctantly turn from her to get my bags. Part of me had expected this part to be hard, but I hadn’t realized it would be heart wrenching to leave this woman. She walks with me to the sidewalk outside the condo and insists on waiting for the Uber with me, refusing to let me out of her sight for a moment.

“I’m sorry I can’t take you to the airport myself.” I’ve lost count of how many times she’s apologized for this.

“You have a shift this morning.” I lift my shoulders in a half shrug. “It’s fine. I’m a big girl. I can handle the airport.”

She shakes her head and laughs, but her eyes are still shimmering. “I know you are, but I still wish I could go.”

I spot the silver Toyota Prius turning the corner down the street, heading our way, and I tug in a sharp breath. “I know you do,” I tell her quickly. “This isn’t the last time we’ll see each other, though. I’ll try and come home for Christmas, I promise.”

The Prius pulls up to the curb, and I give her a hug that’s so big it knocks the wind out of us both.

“Love you, Carley,” I murmur at her ear.

“I love you most, baby girl,” she whispers back, breaking away from me. “You call me when you get to the airport,” she orders as I load my bags into the back of the car. “And when you land. And when you get to the school!”

“Okay, Carley, Jesus!” I’m gri

She waves her hands. “All right, all right, I’m sorry! I’ll just … I’ll just miss you!”

“I’ll miss you too!”

“I don’t have all day,” the driver snaps.

I wave to her once more. The driver is still bitching and groaning about wasted time as I slide into my seat and shut the door, but I barely hear him as he pulls away from the curb because I’m too busy watching Carley until she disappears from sight.

I arrive in Los Angeles a little nauseous, but excited, nonetheless. My first experience on a plane was thankfully uneventful, but the landing was jolting, and my stomach is still an uncomfortable ball of knots. It doesn’t help that I’m nervous as hell to get to Angelview and LAX seems bigger than the whole town of Rayfort. Anthony had told me reps from the school would be at the airport to drive me to the academy, so I stop in a bathroom on my way to the baggage claim area to check my appearance.

No surprise, I look like shit.

I’ve never been a supermodel—don’t get me wrong, I’m pretty enough, but I’m short and thin and I’m still keeping my fingers crossed that I’ll eventually make it out of a B-cup—but today I look particularly godawful. My dark hair is disheveled, and my face is pale, save the large red blotches on my upper cheeks and the dark circles under my ocean blue eyes. Usually, my eyes are my favorite feature, along with my full lips, but the irises staring back at me are almost … faded. Probably thanks to my lack of sleep last night.

Whenever I closed my eyes, I saw James, his hazel eyes accusatory, so I stayed up, pacing my bedroom and half-listening to my favorite playlist.

I pat my hair to try and tame the worst of the flyaways, then splash cold water on my face, leaving me looking a half step up from shit. Hopefully, whoever is picking me up understands that I was just on a five-hour flight.