applying right now to all the Georgia schools. My number one has been Emory, but UC-San Francisco has a good PT program.”
His face was completely blank. I had no idea what he was thinking.
“Say something,” I begged.
“You’d move to San Francisco for me?”
“I don’t know,” I said, suddenly unsure if I’d overstepped. “I just … I don’t have to go to PT school here.”
“That would be amazing,” he finally said.
I broke into a smile. “Yeah?”
“Yes. Absolutely. I want nothing more than for you to come to San Francisco.”
I swallowed back the rise of emotions. This was what I wanted too. So bad.
“Well, I still have to get in.”
“I have every faith in you.”
He kissed the top of my head and let the subject drop as our food arrived. It wasn’t a guarantee that we’d work out, but it was a kernel of hope. A kernel that I hadn’t had in a long time. I held on to it for dear life, and the next day, I set to work on the PT applications I’d been ignoring since graduation.
22
Savannah
April 8, 2012
My mom liked for all of us girls to come home for Easter Sunday. Even though none of us had been raised Catholic and I was the only one who had gone to a Catholic private school, she insisted on mass for Easter.
So, I’d driven down to Savannah for the weekend. I sat with Mom as we went through the pile of PT school acceptance letters. I’d gotten in everywhere, except my two biggest reach schools. I could go to Emory and stay in Atlanta. I’d still get to cheer for the Falcons on the weekends and only be four hours from my mom. Or go to the University of California, San Francisco and try something new. Move a thousand miles away to a place I’d never even been, let alone lived. All for the hope that things with Cole would work out again. Maybe I could even audition for 49ers cheer. Anything was possible right now. I hadn’t felt this light in ages.
My mom was excited that I’d gotten my spark back. I’d been floundering for too long, and I felt more like me again. I had to make my final decision.
“You remember that girl that you went to school with, Amanda Rochester?” my mom asked as mass finally finished and we rose to our feet to stretch.
“Uh, no?”
“She was the blonde. I think she was in your Chemistry class junior year.”
“Hmm … maybe?”
“Well, she married Destin Holloway. Do you remember him? Such a nice young man.”
“Nope.”
“Anyway, they had their second baby. She’s such a cutie.”
My mom did this. She liked to regale us all with people that we might have casually known as an adolescent and then talk about them as if we were all still friends. If Amanda had been in my Chemistry class, I had no real recollection of who she was now. But my mom had been working at St. Catherine’s since I was a sophomore and now actually knew everyone. I was glad that she was full-time at the school and didn’t need a second job anymore.
We filtered out in the aisle, and I scanned the cathedral seating. It was packed for Easter. I hoped that the sheer size of the place gave us some anonymity. Because though I never knew the people my mom was talking about, I did know people here in Savannah. Especially a certain someone who would likely be here for Easter mass with his parents.
Running into Ash Talmadge was low on my priority list. Really low.
I hadn’t seen him since we’d slept together that night on Frat Beach. I’d been furious with Ash and not returned a single message since. Not that it stopped him from sending them. I still occasionally received messages from him that I should have deleted but hadn’t.
We’d almost made it out of the church and onto safer ground. I could see the exit in front of me like a beacon. Then my mom was stopped by an elderly couple a few feet from the welcoming double doors, and my sisters broke off into clusters to talk to friends.
“Mom, I’m going to step outside,” I told her.
“Of course, honey.”
She’d be at this for a while.
I took two steps outside and breathed in the air of safety when I heard a voice behind me. My eyes closed, and I sighed. Should have known better.
Ash stood in front of the church. He looked so … Ash. A crisp