The Passengers (Book #2)

𝔇𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔊𝔢𝔱 𝔐𝔢 𝔚𝔯𝔬𝔫𝔤

I lie in my bed staring blankly at my homework and refusing to look at the bedroom furniture Joohyuk designed for his sister. Our conversation from earlier plays on a loop in my head. Where has he been all this time? Why didn't he say something if he was here?

I smack my hand down on my bed. No. I'm not doing this. He's here. I don't care. That's it.

A hand touches my arm. I look up quickly.

Zoe. "Go away," I say.

"Mum always told me that if you come across someone sad and you do not try to make them smile, then you have disgraced your own humanity," Zoe says in her British accent. "Everyone deserves happiness," she says.

"I'm not sad. But I'm also not in a smiling mood," I say.

"We shall see."

My bed moves as Zoe steps over me and plops down. The tulles on her dress billow before settling in layers around her legs. Zoe puts her head on my other pillow, her hand tucked under her cheek, so that we're looking at one another.

"Is it a boy?" Her expression is serious, and her little eyebrows are furrowed. She's so genuine about it that I almost do smile.

"What makes you think it's a boy?"

"My sister did just what you are doing after she found out we were moving to America. She said that she had no friends in Florida and never would." Zoe nods her head against her hand. "But it turned out she was just upset to leave a boy. Well, that is what her diary said, anyway."

I lift an eyebrow. "You read her diary?"

Zoe's eyes widen, like it's me who said the shocking thing. "She was crying. No one was doing anything to help her, so it only seemed right that I take matters into my own hands. In life-and-death situations, it is acceptable to read other people's diaries."

"When you put it like that, it makes perfect sense."

"Exactly." Zoe giggles, mischievous satisfaction dancing in her eyes. "I saw it, you know."

"Saw what?"

"Your smile."

"Did not?"

"Did so. It was small, but it was there."

Now I do smile, but Zoe disappears.

There are footsteps in the hallway moving closer to my room.

"Suzy?" my dad says just outside my door. "Sehun's here."

Sehun? I look at my phone: 8:01 p.m. Crap.

My dad knocks. "Suzy?"

"Tell him I'll be right there."

I open my armoire. Stupid Joohyuk. I trade my hoodie for a black sweater dress and grabbed my knee-length coat Yoomi bought for me and was trying to get me to wear it instead of my vegan leather jacket. Stupid Yoomi.

I open my door. The lantern sconces give the hallway a soft yellow glow. Paintings of long-dead relatives loom over me as I walk. I grab the banister and take the steps quickly. Sehun waits at the bottom with my dad.

"Ready," I say as my black boots thud dully from the oriental rug onto the wood floor.

"There she is," my dad says, and takes a good look at me. I can feel him trying to assess my mood.

I force a smile. "Rough homework night. I lost track of the time."

My dad kisses me on the forehead. "Have fun. Call me if you need anything."