First and Forever (Heartache Duet #2) - Jay McLean Page 0,63
and I can hear the contemplation in his tone.
“Would you have to go back to school for it?”
“I guess, yeah. But…” But this is my life now, he doesn’t say.
The conversation dies there, and soon enough we’re all heading out for the day, saying bye to Krystal and Mom at the door.
“What are you doing?” Connor asks, looking over at me on the drive to school.
I turn over a page on my English assignment and answer, “I just wanted to check over this paper real quick. It’s due today, and I only finished it this morning.”
“When this morning?”
“While you were sleeping. Just give me two minutes.”
He stays quiet until I finish reading over it and shove it back in my bag. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“When—how—why—”
“Pick an adverb, any adverb!” I sing.
He chuckles. “I just don’t understand when you have the time to study as hard as you do, and how you managed to get early admittance to all these amazing colleges, and why you do it in the first place if you initially never intended on going.”
I let his words sink in. “Wow. That’s a lot of not understanding.”
“I know; there’s a lot I don’t understand about you.” He smiles over at me.
“Like what?”
“Like, why you’re with me, for one.”
“Your self-deprecation is only cute sometimes.”
“Fine,” he laughs out. “Then I don’t understand how you always manage to deflect every question I throw your way.”
I sigh. “I study at night when Mom goes to bed—”
“But I’m there now, and I don’t see you—”
“I do it once you’re asleep.”
“What? How do I not know that?”
“Because you sleep like the dead.”
“Fair. So next question, how?”
“Early acceptances?”
He nods.
“I had a killer essay. Pity me, I’m the daughter of a wounded war veteran…”
“Ahh.”
“Plus, my grades are good, not great, but good enough.”
He nods again. “So, lastly… why?”
I suck in a huge breath, let it out slowly. “Because it’s always been important to Trevor. There are certain things he doesn’t want me missing out on, and education is one of them. A big chunk of the money we got from the sale of the house went to that, and so I don’t want it to go to waste, and… more than anything, I don’t want to disappoint him. He’s sacrificed so much, the least I could do was give him that.”
Connor nods again as he chews the corner of his lip, and I know him well enough now to realize that means he’s thinking, contemplating.
“What’s on your mind, number three?”
He huffs out a breath. “What are your plans for next year or the year after?”
That’s the million-dollar question right there, and I really should’ve seen it coming. “I’m not sure. I’m actually meeting with Miss Turner about it all today. Hopefully, she can guide me.”
“Isn’t that what the guidance counselor’s for?”
“Yeah, but Miss Turner’s invested in me. I’m her little pet project. Besides, I like her. She’s a good person.”
“She is?”
“Yep. You know she grew up around here? She went to West High. I’m pretty sure she loves her job, but she hates St. Luke’s. You know she’s been asking for funding for three years, and they just keep shutting her down?”
“That sucks.”
“It’s like no one takes mental health seriously around here, especially at that school. We’re the future, and no one gives a shit how we feel. It’s like, your brain’s an organ, right? It should be treated the same way as if you had pain in your kidneys or something. You’d go get it looked at, and everyone around you would tell you to go see a doctor. But when there’s a pain in your brain, these fuckers—”
“You’re preaching to the choir, Ava. I get it.”
“Sorry,” I mumble. “It just sucks for her that no one takes her seriously.” I look through the windshield when he begins to slow down, his gaze focused on the green light.
“Why are you slowing down? It’s green.”
“Go red, go red, go red,” he whispers, then smiles when the light turns amber, rolling the car to a complete stop.
“You could’ve easily made that.”
“I know, but I didn’t want to.” He faces me, a smile tugging on his lips right before he leans across, his mouth pressing to mine, kissing me slowly, openly, perfectly. When he pulls back, he says, “Hi, remember me? I’m your boyfriend, and I’m leaving today for four whole days. I won’t be back until Monday night.”
“I’m sorry.” I hold his arm to my chest while he takes off again. “I know.” Believe me, I