Page 34 of PS: I Hate You

I never considered coming to Alabama. Really, none of the southern states hold much appeal for me. I’m a cold-weather person. I want sweaters, hot drinks, and stormy skies that randomly expel torrential downpours that give me endless excuses for not leaving my home.

But Josh’s envelope said Alabama, so here I am at an airport in Birmingham.

Step one: pick up my rental car.

Step two: stop at the first drugstore I spy and buy a bottle of sunscreen too large to have been allowed in my carry-on.

Step three: find the hotel address Dom emailed me last week.

Yes, I still refuse to give him my number.

Partly because I don’t like the idea that his name could pop up on my phone screen whenever he feels like it.

But mostly because I know not having it gives Mr.Must Maintain Control At All Times a hefty dose of heartburn.

After I complete step two, slathering my upper body in SPF 75—you can get burned through the car window, FYI—I pull up my email and find a message waiting for me.

Sender:Dominic Perry

Subject:Alabama Trip

Maddie,

Let me know when you’ve landed and you’re on your way. Text me using the number I gave you.

Sincerely,

Dom

I smirk, imagining him popping antacids to deal with me.

Sender:Maddie Sanderson

Subject:RE: Alabama Trip

Dear Control Freak,

On my way.

Sincerely,

I Don’t Use Phones Because That’s How The Aliens Find You

Somewhere in the world, he’s angrily growling my name, and that brings me an immense amount of satisfaction.

Flipping back through our email exchange, I find the address he sent me. The vindictive goblin that lives in my soul wanted to wrestle all control of these trips away from Dom. But I found myself letting him take the lead on booking our stay for this first excursion. An oppressive weight bore down on my brain whenever I tried to think about the logistics of each of these trips.

Planning another goodbye to my brother.

So when Dom pressed for me to let him handle reserving roomsfor our stay, I folded. But I booked my own flight, refusing to allow him that much control over my movements.

Turns out, not taking control was a mistake. I discover this the moment my GPS announces I have arrived at my destination.

There was supposed to be a hotel.

Instead, I pull up to a cabin.

Like, in the woods. Outside of civilization.