Gasp (Visions) - Lisa McMann Page 0,61

listed.”

Ben nods. “I’m just glad I still had my wallet. It was a bit wet after the phone ordeal, but obviously the credit card still worked, and that’s all that matters.” He checks the clock on the wall and frowns. “The driver dropped us at my dorm and waited so we could quickly change into some clothes, and then took us straight here.” He looks at Trey and reaches for his hand. “We couldn’t wait to get here. It was so frustrating how lost we were, not having anybody’s contact information memorized. I always had it there in my phone. And now it’s at the bottom of Lake Michigan.”

I notice Ben checking the time, and reluctantly I stand up, because we need to go. “Sawyer, do you want to go to school or just go home?”

“I want to go where you go.”

Ben says, “My only class today starts in ten minutes, so I think I’m skipping one more day.” He grins. “You want me to hang out here and wait for you?” he asks Trey. What a guy.

“Um, no.” Trey looks sidelong at Rowan. “You wanna be Mom and call in sick for me?”

Rowan smirks. “How much is it worth to you?”

Fifty-Two

Trey drops Rowan, Sawyer, and me at Kate’s. Sawyer brushes his teeth and grabs his backpack, and we take his car to school. Trey takes a sick day and spends it with Ben. Mr. Polselli checks in with me and I give him a bright smile. Lunch is intimate, just Sawyer and me, and we hold hands across the table as he tells me all the places on his body that hurt so I can feel sorry for him. In sculpting, Ms. White asks me if Trey and I got the news we were hoping for.

“We did,” I say, and I can’t stop smiling. I decide to work extra hard on my vase today to thank Ms. White for being lenient. And maybe I’ll even pull off a better grade on it than Trey, which would rock.

After school, Sawyer drops Rowan and me off at our house so he can go home, rest for a bit, and catch up on his homework.

And there’s my dad, sitting in the living room with the shades drawn and the TV on at three o’clock in the afternoon.

Rowan gives me a look of doom. My stomach drops. The stretch of good times is over. Did I do this to him?

He looks up when we walk through the room on the way to our bedroom. “Girls!” he booms. “How was your day?”

I freeze. And slowly turn to look at him. “Fine,” I say.

“Good. Rowan, your mother wants you to help her in the backyard. She’s planting a garden so we can grow our own stuff for the food truck.”

Rowan’s eyes widen. “Oh. Okay.” She drops her backpack in the bedroom and escapes out of here like a sidewinder.

Dad turns the TV off and reaches back to open the blinds behind the couch. “I was just killing time waiting for you to get here.” He’s shaved and showered and nicely dressed as usual for the past few weeks. “We never finished talking yesterday.”

“Oo-kay,” I say. I slide my backpack off my shoulder and lower my body to perch on the edge of the couch next to him.

“Your mother told me I need to communicate more, and that I should tell you that we, ah, we like your friends. And that it’s nice to have them come over, and at first we weren’t used to having them in the house, but now it . . . it’s nice. Because then we know where you are, and . . . well. She told me to tell you that.”

I raise an eyebrow. “So you like Sawyer now?”

He shifts uneasily. “I . . . yes, I think he’s okay. Your mom said he’s not living at home.”

I tilt my head. “Oh, I get it. He’s having problems with his parents, so you like him more because of that.”

“That’s not what I meant. That’s not fair. I tell you something nice and you throw it in my face.” He fidgets with his hands and I can tell he’s getting defensive.

I choose to let it go since he seems to be trying to be a better . . . whatever. “Okay. I’m sorry. I’m glad you like our friends.”

“Also,” he goes on, his face pained, “you told me I needed to own my mistakes, and I’ve been thinking about that. And