My Life After Now - By Jessica Verdi Page 0,60

could have sex, so could I, dammit!

I didn’t want to be alone anymore. And here was this hot guy, who meant so much to me, telling me he wanted me. There was no way I was going to say no to that. Not when I needed him the most.

• • •

When it was over, we lay together, skin-to-skin, under the blanket. I closed my eyes as he stroked my hair, and breathed him in.

“I missed you,” I whispered.

“Me too,” he said. There was a long, peaceful moment of quiet. “By the way, congratulations again on getting the commercial. That’s amazing.”

I smiled. “Thank you.”

“It’s national, right?”

“Yup.”

“Do you think there’s any chance you could get them to find a part for me?” he asked.

I lifted my head up to look at his face. “In the commercial?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, um…I don’t think there are any other parts. I think it’s just going to be me.”

Disappointment appeared and then vanished on his face so quickly I thought I’d imagined it. “Oh, right. It was just a thought.”

I put my head back down on his chest.

“I bet you’re gonna be able to sign with a major agent after this,” he said.

I shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe.”

“Oh, you totally will. And then you could refer me, and we could both be repped by the same agency. Think how awesome it would be, the two of us living in the city and going on auditions together, just like we’ve always talked about. Maybe we could even move to L.A.!”

Now I was the one who was frowning. We had always talked about living together after I finished high school, but for some reason I didn’t want to talk about it right now. I sat up and began pulling on my clothes. “You hungry?” I asked, ready to change the subject.

Ty started getting dressed too. “Nah, I’m good.” He looked at the clock. “Actually, I should go, before your dads get home.”

A lump began to form in my throat. My dads had never minded Ty being over before, and he knew that.

“Okay, sure,” I said, fighting to keep my expression emotionless.

He gave me a quick kiss and headed for the door. “This was amazing,” he said, turning back momentarily. “I mean, how awesome are snow days?” He grinned.

I nodded weakly. “Yeah. Totally awesome.”

And then he vanished into the blizzard.

30

A Fact Can Be a Beautiful Thing

My dads had let the Thursday and Friday group meetings slide because of the snowstorm, but they ardently refused to let me bail on Saturday’s doctor appointment.

We took the train into the city because the roads were still a mess, and cabbed it across town from Grand Central to the medical center. The closer we got to the building, the more the butterflies in my stomach seemed to multiply.

“It’s going to be okay, Lucy,” Dad said, noticing my white knuckles clenched nervously around the shoulder strap of my bag. “Remember, you’re going to a different doctor this time.”

“I’m sure she’ll be better,” Papa said. “And if not, we’ll keep searching until we find the doctor that’s right for you, I promise.” Papa still felt bad about the Dr. Jackson debacle.

Even though it was the same practice, the lady at the front desk made us refill out the paperwork. Apparently Dr. Vandoren had a different record-keeping system than Dr. Jackson. It was like some cruel déjà vu.

As I waited for my name to be called, my mind kept wandering back to Ty. He hadn’t called or texted me since he left the house yesterday. I checked my phone about once every twenty seconds, but it remained silent. Where was he? Wasn’t he thinking about me as much as I was thinking about him?

“Expecting a call?” Papa eyed me curiously.

I shoved the phone back in my bag. “No.”

Not expecting, just hoping, I thought.

Just then, I heard my name. A different nurse from last time escorted me through a different door. She led me down a short hallway and gestured to an open door.

“Have a seat. The doctor will be with you shortly,” she said.

It wasn’t an exam room—it was Dr. Vandoren’s office. There was a big wooden desk with papers and files stacked all over it, bookshelves with numerous medical books, and framed photos of her family everywhere. There was also a shelf with several thank-you notes propped up on it. I couldn’t see inside any of them, but I was curious. Could they have been from patients? I was debating sneaking a peek at one when the doctor