Year on Fire by Julie Buxbaum

Author:Julie Buxbaum [Buxbaum, Julie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2022-04-12T00:00:00+00:00

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“Thank you so much for rescuing me,” Paige said an hour later. Immie had left Arch at the cafe, which meant she’d had to drive back to school, pick Paige up, and drop her on the west side at her house before turning around again. “I’m so sorry. I realize this is way out of your way.”

“Don’t even worry about it,” Immie said, and she didn’t look put-out. She looked happy to be doing this for Paige. Perhaps this was more penance, but Paige didn’t want to think about that right now.

“Seriously. Thank you,” Paige said, and she could hear the warbling in her voice, like she was close to tears. Immie reached out and grabbed her hand and squeezed; this only made it worse.

“What happened? You okay, P? I was super freaked out,” Immie said. “You never get sick.”

“Coach overreacted. She wouldn’t let me drive myself home or Uber, and my mom and dad are away, so…” Paige cleared her throat. She didn’t mention that she could have called Marta, who was paid to be first on her emergency contact list. “I think it was a migraine. Or dehydration. I’m fine.”

They had pulled up to the curb, and Paige looked up at her house. Its immensity felt startling from this angle. There were eight bedrooms; two had been repurposed for her parents’ offices, one had been turned into a home gym, and another was a full guest suite with its own separate entrance. When broken down like that, the size had seemed reasonable and necessary. From the passenger seat of the twins’ Corolla, though, it felt oafish and absurd, maybe even disgusting.

She wondered if Chase was doing rounds of the neighborhood, and she couldn’t decide if that made her feel safer or more vulnerable.

“You here alone tonight?” Immie asked.

“My mom will be home late.” Paige made no move to get out of the car. She knew the longer Immie stayed, the worse the traffic would get, and her drive home, which would normally take thirty minutes, would balloon to way over an hour. Still, Immie didn’t seem to be in a rush. She felt Paige’s forehead with the back of her hand and she shook her head, as if almost disappointed Paige didn’t have a fever.

“What if I can’t do it?” Paige asked, again looking out the window, though this time at her lawn, at its impossible green slope and the long winding pathway to her front door.

“Do what?”

“All of it,” Paige said and waved her hand around to mean everything, starting with the getting out of the car, the walking, the closing of the door to the world behind her. The making her way into the kitchen and then the bathroom and then her bedroom. The homework and the SAT prep and the studying and the school magazine and the running for president. The brushing of her teeth and the washing of her face and the application of her prescription acne cream and then a serum and facial oil on top.

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