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Hunter’s breath shook as he slammed the door behind him, eyes darting around his room. The panic coursing in his veins slowly gave way to adrenaline, the sound of his heart pounding overpowering the muffled sounds of his dad screaming downstairs. Quickly, he grabbed his backpack, slightly worn from years of use, and shoved his laptop inside. Flinging his closet wide open and rifling through his drawers, he packed his clothes, already folded in advance, waiting for the day his father would finally give him the boot.
“Hunter?”
A voice snapped him out of his frenzy. Turning around, he saw Willow standing in the doorway, mouth curved in a worried frown.
“Willow,” Hunter wheezed, now acutely aware of how much he’s been hyperventilating. “Don’t—don’t just stand there. Help me pack.” He swallowed, fighting back the lump in his throat. “Please,” he urged. “He’s gonna kill you too if he sees you helping me.”
Recognizing the urgency in his tone, Willow steeled herself, skillfully stuffing the backpack with items all around Hunter’s room. It wasn’t much—he always talked about how he was always prepared for the day his dad would kick him out of the house. “Anything I don’t take with me’s all yours, okay?” Hunter uncapped a glitter pen and scrawled a number onto some random sticky note, pushing it into her hands. “If you need me, just text. Don’t let anyone find out about this number, especially not Dad, or your mom.”
Willow was taking down some photos from the wall when she lingered on one of her and Hunter together, pulling silly faces. The filter made them look just like real siblings—even though they weren’t related biologically in any way. She remembered when they first met, the day Hunter’s dad brought him back home. She remembered his dumb haircut, the way he glared at his dad behind his back, the awkwardness in the air when they were left alone in the house those first few weeks. She remembered how much she hated him, and how much she thought he hated her.
When the ice finally broke, they came to agree on one thing: their parents were huge assholes that deserved each other. As time went on, they discovered that they had much more in common, and despite everything, they became inseparable—so much so that their friends joked about how much they were like twins. Before Willow knew it, tears were rolling down her cheeks and onto the photograph strip.
The sound of sniffling made Hunter stop in his tracks. Willow was tough. She never cried—or at least let anyone see her doing so. For a moment, he stood there in disbelief at the sight, before pulling her into a hug and letting her cry into his shoulder.
“Fuck you,” she said, muffled by the fabric of Hunter’s shirt.
“Huh?”
“Fuck you.” She pulled away to punch him in the gut, strong enough to knock the air out of him a little. Yep, there she was. That’s the Willow he knew and loved. “So that’s it? You’re just gonna fuck off to Massachusetts and fucking leave me here?” She wiped her nose with her sleeve, face red. “That’s fucked up, man. I’m gonna have to deal with both Mom and dumbass Michael alone!”
“Hey, hey, it’s not all bad,” Hunter tried to reassure her. “You get to keep my CD player! And when you get your driver's license, you can come visit! That’s something, right?”
“Fuck your CD player, man!” Willow shoved him away, making him stumble backwards. “I just wish…”
She trailed off, covering her face in her hands as she tried her best to stop herself from crying any more than she already had. “I wish you didn’t have to be so far away.”
Hunter forced a small laugh. “Willow, it’s not like I’m gonna be gone forever. I’ll always be a text away, you know that.”
“You better fucking be,” Willow muttered through gritted teeth, shooting him a joking warning glare. The two of them couldn’t help but laugh before they embraced again. “Or else I’m selling all your damn shit.”
Hunter gasped with fake shock. “You wouldn’t.” He knew she probably would if he forgot to check in with her. That’s why he loved her so much—if there was one person in the world he knew definitely cared about him through and through, it was Willow.
He took the picture from her hand and neatly wedged it into a secret pocket, right next to the wad of cash he’d secretly saved up for this moment. He zipped everything up and hauled it over his shoulders, not even fazed by the weight. “Guess this is goodbye for now, huh?” He flashed her a gap-toothed grin, though the edges were slightly more solemn than usual. He waited a beat, hoping for Willow to say something. Her lips parted like she was about to, but nothing came out. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “For what it’s worth, you’re the best sister I ever had. I… I love you. Okay?”
Still nothing. The silence stretched longer than he’d expected. Hunter shrugged, giving Willow a half-hearted wave to hide the mild sting of disappointment.
“...See you later, alligator.” He squeezed her shoulder as he passed, before disappearing down the hallway.
Willow couldn’t bring herself to laugh at how corny that was, or say anything at all, unless she wanted to burst into tears again. Instead, she walked away to her room, refusing even a single glance back, and closing the door. She couldn’t believe this was happening. He’s leaving. He’s really leaving. She thought about how quiet the house would be with Hunter gone. No one was going to steal her towels and leave them stained with hair dye. No one was going to barge into her room demanding lyric ideas at ungodly hours anymore. Her best friend, the best thing to come out of their parents’ shitty marriage—was leaving. And he’s never coming back.
Before she knew it, the sound of Hunter’s footsteps had trailed off, going downstairs. She heard the last words she’d hear from her brother for a long while, addressed to his dad: ‘Go fuck yourself’. The front door slammed shut, and with that, for the first time in years, she was all alone. As she reached for her phone, jamming in the new number while her vision grew blurry, she sent a message to Hunter. It was obviously rushed, with how riddled with typos it was for one short sentence, but she knew he’d be able to understand it.
“I love you too, dumbass. Don’t die out there.”