at this point was my love and my presence. Reaching across the table, I covered her hand with mine, and we sat together in silence for a long time.
Chapter Sixteen
Tuck
“Hey, Tuck.” Gia waved to me from next to her car. “Over here.”
I wheeled down the sidewalk that led from the school’s front doors to the curb. “Hey, Gia. Thanks for picking me up. I really appreciate it.”
“Not a problem.” I thought she might have smiled, but it was so fleeting that I couldn’t tell for sure. “Can you get into the seat? I’ll put your chair in back once you’re in.”
I transferred to the front seat of Gia’s small car, and then she folded my wheelchair and slid it into the trunk before climbing into the driver’s seat and pulling away.
“How did your day go?” I settled back, watching as Gia frowned through the windshield.
“Ah . . . same as always. Classes and then back to the apartment. I slept this afternoon for a few hours.”
Sleeping seemed to be one of the few pleasures in Gia’s life these days. I hated to deny her that luxury, but at the same time, I worried that it was indicative of depression. “You should be done with just about everything, right? You finished the course work you needed for graduation.”
“Yeah, but I figured, since I’m here on campus, and we have the apartment for another couple of months, I might as well keep going to class. No one cares.”
I wasn’t sure that was true, but neither was I going to argue with her. Being in a class with other people was a step in the right direction.
“It’ll keep you in the school mindset for when you start your graduate program in the spring, anyway.” I grinned at her. “It’s going to be good, G. You’ll be moving on and living in a new place . . . all of that is positive.”
“I guess.” She turned a corner and glanced at me. “How was your day?”
“I spent it educating the young minds of Eatonboro. No one threw up, no one broke any bones, and a few of them learned something. We’ll call that a win.” Leaning forward, I dug my phone from my back pocket. “Have you heard anything from Zelda? She said she had a late meeting, I know, but I wonder when she’ll be home.”
“Don’t know.” Gia’s tone was flat. “She didn’t say anything to me about it. Just asked if I would pick you up at school.”
“Huh.” There weren’t any texts or message from Zelda on my phone. I was slightly unsettled; for the past few weeks, or maybe even a little longer, something had been wrong with my girl. I didn’t know what was going on; I couldn’t pinpoint exactly when I’d noticed it or even say what made me sense it, but it felt as though she was pulling away from me.
These last months hadn’t exactly gone the way either of us had expected. Back in the spring, we’d been so excited about our new jobs and the idea of moving into our own apartment together. But then Matt had killed himself, Quinn had married Nate, and Gia was left with no one but the two of us to look after her. Gia’s mother sure as hell wasn’t any help; when Zelda had spoken to her two weeks after Matt’s funeral, Mrs. Capri had informed us that if her daughter needed help, she’d have to move up to Trenton. Otherwise, she was on her own.
Even so, I thought we’d made this compromise work. We were still in the campus apartment, sure, but that was temporary. We’d start looking for our own place soon, since Gia was going to move to Philadelphia for grad school and her internship. Zelda seemed to like her job at the farm-to-table non-profit, and I loved what I was doing.
Everything felt like it was moving in the right direction . . . which was probably why I was feeling uneasy. Whenever I brought up the idea of looking for an apartment, Zelda somehow changed the subject. Maybe that was only my perception, though. We just needed to reconnect a little and talk about what came next. Then we’d both feel better.
Once back in the apartment, Gia disappeared into her bedroom, leaving me sitting alone in front of the television, channel surfing. I’d just stopped to watch a documentary on honey bees when Zelda came in.
As always, she robbed me of breath just by being. She’d