Travis (Pelion Lake) by Mia Sheridan

Easton reached out and grabbed my hand, squeezing. “I’m not leaving,” he said. “You’re stuck with me for life.”

And then my little brother opened his arms and I fell forward, face-planting into his chest and grasping the fabric of his shirt in my fist, holding on to what felt solid. Easton held me as I cried, releasing some of the long-held pain and the deeply lodged fear.

Finally.





CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE




Haven



A buzz of voices welcomed us as we pulled the door to the town hall open. A few heads turned, some smiled, some looked mildly curious as they sipped from Styrofoam cups. I took a deep breath of the air redolent with coffee and baked goods, running my hands over my thighs. “Come on,” Easton said, leading me toward the table where three large silver urns sat beside platters of cookies and baked goods.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked under my breath.

Easton picked up a donut, taking a big, sugary bite and not bothering to chew or swallow before answering, “Yesh.” He paused, gulped. “The Pelion firehouse guys will all be here. There’s the captain right over there,” he said, lifting his chin and giving a small wave to the stern-looking man near the stage. The man gave a head nod in acknowledgment. “Might as well jump right in if we’re going to join this community.”

Easton moved from one foot to the other. His tell. He was nervous. He’d never admit it but he wanted to be accepted. He’d always been the odd man out, the kid who couldn’t invite others over.

The one whose mother never showed.

The one who’d waited anyway.

He deserved this. To make friends. To be accepted.

I was doing this for him. But I was also doing this for me. My nerves felt frayed, heart quickening with both excitement—hope—and trepidation. It had been two long years, and I was about to take my first big risk.

You can do this. It’s time.

I helped myself to a cup of coffee, sipping tentatively at the scalding liquid. All the seats were taken, but Easton and I stood against the back wall, watching as the community members chatted and laughed, enjoying each other.

You can be part of this. That hope soared in my chest again, and yes, fear accompanied it, but wouldn’t that always be the case? Easton was right. I couldn’t wait for the doubt to disappear entirely, because that might never happen. I had to make the choice to embrace it and lean in to what I wanted, despite the worry.

I deserved to have dreams.

And how would they ever come true if I wasn’t willing to stop, face my past, and then move on, unencumbered, into my future?

And I wouldn’t be doing it alone.

My heart gave a jolt and then soared as Travis came into view, standing near the low stage, taking a stack of papers from a younger man who was also wearing a police uniform. Travis took a portion of the stack of papers off the top and handed them to a short, slender woman with a brunette bob haircut who began handing them to the people at the end of each row to pass down to the others.

For several minutes I simply watched him in his element, listening as people passed by and said a word or two, laughing along with them, squeezing one man’s shoulder, and patting him on the back as he gave Travis a grateful look and walked away.

Give us a chance, Haven.

Yes. Yes.

The man next to him—the young cop with the buzz cut—elbowed Travis and leaned in, speaking in a hurried manner. Travis froze, frowning, glancing down at the papers in his hand for several seconds, squinting, holding it away slightly, and then blinking in what looked like confusion, before his head shot up and he met my eyes. The young cop was staring at me too and even from the distance, I saw his throat move in a swallow.

Travis stared in shock as I bit my lip, shy, happy, and hoping to God he understood why I’d come. Vulnerability made me feel breakable, shaky, and yet that hope continued to flutter inside.

I’m going to stay.

I saw him take in a quickened breath, his expression morphing into . . . horror.

My heart dipped and distractedly I took the papers that had made it to us, handing one to Easton as well.

Why was Travis looking at me like that? A buzz started in the back of my head. Was he not glad I was here? A tremor took up inside me, those excited nerves taking a sudden nosedive.

“Oh God,” I heard Easton say, his voice choked.

I glanced at him to see he’d started to read the flyer we’d been handed and, confused, looked down at my own, everything inside me going frigid as I saw what it said, my heart plunging lower and lower as I read.



The newly formed community relations committee, along with the Pelion Police Department, will be putting out this monthly bulletin in an effort to protect the safety, well-being, and happiness of our fellow citizens. It has come to our attention that a seasonal employee of The Calliope Golf and Tennis Club has hurt and disrespected our very own chief of police. For that reason, Easton and Haven Torres are listed on this edition of PELION’S MOST UNWANTED. Encourage these individuals to move on from our close-knit community as quickly as possible. When one citizen is hurt by an outsider, all citizens are hurt. Pelion is a family-friendly town, and the community relations committee vets all residents, both permanent and temporary.



And there were pictures of us below the caption, photos I recognized as ones Easton had posted on social media, only blown-up and made into close-ups of our faces.