I shook my head. “I don’t eat bacon.”
Julian paused and set his fork down on the table. He gave me a curious look. “But I thought you said you weren’t religious.”
I shrugged. I was too overwhelmed to try to explain the detailed nuances of the rules my mother had set.
“Well, I think I’m going to follow Mom’s lead and go to bed, too,” Julian said. “I’m an old man these days and today has been … long.”
“It’s only eleven,” Harlow protested. “You should take us somewhere cool in Oak Falls.”
I kicked Harlow under the table. I wanted her to knock it off. I was also tired, and lying down sounded really good to me, even if I wasn’t certain I would be able to get to sleep.
“It’s Oak Falls,” Julian deadpanned. “There’s nothing cool.”
“Come on,” Harlow said. “You’re Julian Oliver. You must know of something cool. Isn’t Oak Falls a college town?”
“JP,” I said without thinking.
He gave me a weak smile. “Yes. In this house, I’m JP. Not Julian Oliver.”
“And JP is your lame alter ego?” Harlow teased.
He shrugged and a long silence stretched between us. I kept waiting for him to get up and go to bed like he’d declared he was going to, but instead he stayed planted at the breakfast bar, dragging his fork through the meaty lasagna.
“JP is my best self,” Julian finally said, sounding like one of those new age-y self-help books.
“Your best self?” I asked tentatively.
“Yes,” he said. “It just took me a long time to realize it.” His eyes went hazy and I assumed he was thinking about his dad. Or maybe Mom. “Maybe, really, it actually took me until now to.”
As much as I wanted to push him to elaborate on that, I couldn’t. I didn’t know how to enter such a personal space with him. It had always been just Mom and me. I knew how to talk to Mom about anything. Well, anything other than Julian.
A nervousness nibbled in my stomach and I stood up from my chair. “Well, I’m going to go to bed, too.”
“Taliah?” Julian said.
“Yes?”
“Are you okay?”
“I don’t know,” I said, because it was the most honest answer.
“Me either.”
I stood frozen in the kitchen for a brief moment. So far, being in the Oliver household had been like living inside a movie that was playing at half speed. Each action was elongated; too much time was allotted to overanalyze and agonize over the meaning of every single gesture, every quip. I needed someone to press fast-forward.
But maybe half speed was the side effect of grief. I wasn’t familiar enough with loss or the anticipation of it to really know.
I gave Julian a halfhearted wave and glanced at Harlow, who was absorbed in her phone. “See you guys in the morning.”
And now it was morning. I slipped outside the front door, and even though it was early, the sun was already high in the sky. It fell against my skin as I ambled along the edge of the property, ducking under the shade of some tall and leafy oak trees that were planted beside the white equestrian-style fence that snaked around the Olivers’ land.
The property seemed to stretch on endlessly. As far as I could see, there were grassy, rolling hills. An earthy musk floated in the air. It smelled like mud. And maybe cows. I squinted, trying to catch sight of any livestock, but I couldn’t spot any. I craned my neck to look over at the other side of the fence.
“Hey,” an unfamiliar voice called out.
I froze, unsure whether I should turn around.
“Hello?” the voice called again.
I stayed in the shade of the oaks and started to run back toward the farmhouse. I kept my eyes down out of fear of making accidental eye contact and focused on the grass, which was wet with morning dew and tickled my ankles.
Even with my face aimed down, I could see the house emerging on the horizon. I let out a deep breath of relief and then I felt my body collide against someone else. I tumbled backwards with a thud, and splayed out in the damp grass.
“Oh dang!” the same voice from before howled. “You okay?”
A hand stretched out in my direction. I didn’t have the courage to glance up at the face that went along with the hand.
The hand didn’t move. “You came home with JP, right?”
I refused to grasp the outstretched hand and instead helped myself up. Once I was back on my own two feet, I took a deep breath. The face I found in front of me was warm. It belonged to a guy who appeared to be about my age. He was sun-freckled, with floppy auburn hair that curled up around his ears. It was long in a way that seemed hip, but the length somehow seemed less like a purposeful style choice and more related to a lack of attention. He was wearing a gray baseball cap. He had wide brown eyes that reminded me of a puppy in the best sort of way. My body, at odds with my anxious mind, slowly relaxed.
“Yes,” I said, my eyes flitting around his face, unsure where to settle. “I’m Julian’s daughter,” I said without thinking, and then instantly regretted it.
“I know,” he said. “Word travels fast around here.”
“I’ve been here less than twelve hours.”
“Your cousins told me,” he explained.
“My cousins?”
“Yeah. Brady and Carter.”
I tried not to look as clueless as I felt. “Brady and Carter,” I repeated.
He gave me a self-assured grin that I probably would’ve found charming a few moments ago, but now found irritating. “Yeah. I know you don’t know who they are. But they know who you are.”
I forced myself to laugh. “That’s a little creepy.”
“There’s not much happening here in Oak Falls. Especially on this side of town. And especially amongst us townies.” He gestured toward the other side of the fence. “I live next door. I’m Toby, by the way.” He stuck his hand back out again.
I tentatively shook it. Treating it as though it were a hot potato. A quick grab, shake, and drop.
“I’m Taliah.”
“Yeah. I know,” he said, the self-assured grin reappearing on his face. I didn’t know anyone who was that happy. If anything, the people I knew often pretended to be less happy than they were.
“I’m sorry about Tom,” he offered.
“I’ve never met him,” I said in a way that I’d hoped would sound frank and actually came out sounding a little callous. I winced.
“Then I’m sorry about that.” Toby looked like he was about to say something else, but instead played with the bill of his baseball cap. “So what are you doing up so early?”
“I’m a morning person.”
He squinted at me. “I’m going to call bunk on that.”
“Bunk?”
He shrugged, and I saw a bit of self-consciousness cross his face. “Hooey. You know …”
“Bullshit,” I filled in. “And you are right. But how’d you know?”
He shrugged again. “I’m a good guesser.”