He took my hand across the console and linked our fingers, glancing at Riley’s house as we turned the corner. “How’s she holding up?” he asked, returning his attention to the road.
“She’s devastated.”
“Yeah, so is Tate.” He blew out a breath and shook his head. “They’ve been together for years. I never thought they’d break up like this, that a fight over colleges would be the one thing they couldn’t get through. It sucks.”
“Well, Tate knew Riley’s plans and committed to UNC without talking to her. Maybe he should’ve been more considerate.”
“Tate took advantage of an opportunity,” Adam said. “Riley could’ve been more understanding.” He glanced at me, his eyes lingering as we reached a stop sign. “She could still go to UNC. They have a cheer program, just like the University of South Carolina.”
“Except she wants to go to South Carolina,” I said, holding his gaze. “Maybe Tate could retract his verbal commitment and go there instead.”
“He wants to play for UNC.”
“They could do long distance.”
“I don’t know.” Adam’s gaze swept across my face, hesitating. There was a look in his eyes I couldn’t place, but it wasn’t warm. Something was up.
“What?” I asked.
“We need to talk about something that isn’t Tate and Riley.”
“Okay.”
His tone held an edge I wasn’t expecting, so my brow furrowed as I stared at him.
“Why did you tell my grandma I needed to go to Alabama for college?” he asked.
“What?”
“Because I don’t appreciate it. She harped on me about that all afternoon.”
Confused, I twisted in my seat so I could see him straight on. “I never told her I wanted you to go to Alabama. All we did was talk about your options.”
“Which includes Alabama, a college that happens to be in the same state as Auburn.” He pulled his hand away and wrapped it around the steering wheel. “She had a stack of info on Alabama, including dorm info, meal plan options, and undergraduate programs. I spent the rest of the day trying to hype up Clemson to her, but she wouldn’t hear of it. It was Alabama this, and Alabama that, and ‘Claire’s going to Alabama so you should go there, too.’” He looked at me again, his lips a thin line. “Where I go to school is my decision, and I’ll go wherever the hell I want. I don’t need your input. I don’t need you persuading my grandma, either.”
I glared at him. If he wanted to throw out accusations, he needed to check the facts. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” I answered. “I told her I was going to Auburn. I never said where you should go.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Tears pricked my eyes, burning the edges as they threatened to spill over. I hadn’t done anything, but I was the one getting blamed!
“Talk to me,” Adam said, his voice cold as the truck ascended a gravel road.
“I don’t feel like talking to you right now.”
He pulled the truck to a stop, and I pushed my way out, the breeze sending my hair in wayward directions as rocks crunched beneath my feet. We stood on a cliff’s edge, high above Pader like two specks in a pool of star-ridden darkness. Another time, the scene would’ve been beautiful, but we’d wasted it with false accusations and defensiveness.
“Where I go to school is my choice,” he said, coming to a stop beside me. “I thought I made that clear.”
“You did make it clear. You made it crystal clear.” I turned, meeting his irritated expression. “But I got into Auburn, and I’m going there with or without you.”
“Is this a threat?”
“It’s a promise.” I pulled my jacket close to my body, needing warmth where frost now lay. “And there’s something about Auburn you need to know.”
“What?”
“My ex will be there, too.”
Adam’s face smoothed for a moment, devoid of all emotion, and my nerves stood on end.
“Seth will be at Auburn,” I repeated.
Adam headed toward the truck, his fist balled as he walked.
“Adam.”
“I don’t want to hear it right now,” he answered. “I’m already mad at you. Don’t give me a reason to be madder.”
“Well, if you’re already mad, I might as well tell you everything, right? You can be mad at me all at one time.” He continued walking, so I sped up. “I knew Auburn was on his radar, but when I found out—”
“Hold up.” Adam pivoted and looked at me so disgusted I wanted to cry. “How did you find out?”
“Because I’ve talked to him,” I answered. “He texted me before Thanksgiving.”
“You knew you were accepted before Thanksgiving! So this whole time we’ve been talking about long-distance relationships, you knew you got in? You let me tell you how I felt about them without saying a damn word about getting accepted?”
“Would it have mattered?” I asked. “You had a pretty solid opinion of them, regardless of what I said.”
“Too late to find out now, isn’t it?”
I threw my hands up, so frustrated I could barely see straight. “I’m sorry, but I had enough I was dealing with. I’ve got a boyfriend I’m probably going to lose to football, an ex-boyfriend who won’t quit texting me, scholarships, school, and a million things in between! Why would I tell you and make it worse?”
“How long has Seth been texting you?”
“That’s all you heard?”
“How long?” Adam repeated.
“September.”
“September?!” Adam took a step back, closing his eyes as he tilted his head toward the sky. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’m not texting him back. He’s texting me. When he called while I was at the hospital, I told him—”
“You talked to him while you were at the hospital?!”
“He called me,” I repeated.
Adam’s jaw clenched as his head cocked to the side. “So let me get this straight. You’ve kept Seth a secret, you kept your admission to Auburn a secret, you told my grandma I needed to go to Alabama, and the whole time I thought you were being honest? Wow. Anything else you want to tell me? You and Seth getting back together when you get to Auburn?”
“No!” Adam tugged on the truck’s door, but I pushed it closed. “We’re not getting back together. I don’t want Seth!”
“You obviously don’t want me, either, since you chose to lie about everything.”
“I haven’t lied to you about everything.”
“Okay, you didn’t lie,” he said. “You kept everything a secret, even after I let you in. Do you know how hard that was for me, or did you not care?”
“I care.”
“Clearly.” He leaned against the truck, crossing his arms as he stared at me. “How long did you know he planned on going to Auburn?”
I looked away. Adam was right. I did lie. I lied about everything.
“How long?” Adam repeated.
“We made an agreement last year,” I answered. “Seth knew how much it meant to me to go there, so we agreed to go together. He wanted to go to Auburn. I wanted him to go to Auburn. That’s changed.”
“The pair of you agreed to go to Auburn together, and you never said anything? This is fucking perfect.” Adam yanked the door open, and I moved out of his way. “I’m taking you home.”
“Adam.”
“I can’t be around you right now.”
I inhaled, trying to steady the world as it spun around me. “Don’t do this,” I pleaded.
“You did it, Claire. Not me.”
“I didn’t do anything!”
“You’ve been lying to me this whole time!”
I shook my head, tears streaming down my cheeks. “I didn’t know how to tell you, and I was worried about what you’d say. We aren’t in an easy situation, Adam. We already disagree about college. We’re already trying to figure that out, so the last thing I wanted to do was bring Seth into the mix.”
“Because I love you.”
“And I thought I loved you.”
21
Survive
“Isn’t there something better to look at?” Riley asked, frowning as we entered Senior Hall.
“No idea,” I answered, “but I’m getting the same stupid looks.”
I shot a narrowed gaze at a girl across the hall. She pretended to tie her shoes, oblivious to the lack of laces on her riding boots.
The week following my fight with Adam dragged at a snail’s pace. Pader High was too small for me to avoid him. He was everywhere, pretending like I didn’t exist while I tried to do the same. It was pointless, but it was the only option I had.
Riley had it worse. She and Tate were Pader High royalty. Their breakup was the biggest event of the year, and the most talked about topic on campus.
“Take a picture. It will last longer,” she snapped, passing a crowd of football players gathered by the bathroom. She raked a hand through her hair and groaned. “I’m so over this. I’m over these people. I’m over this school. When do we graduate? The sooner I get to South Carolina, the better.”
“Sixish months,” I answered.
“Let the countdown begin.”
She split off toward her locker, but I hesitated, transfixed on Adam, who was putting books in his locker with a girl at his side. She wore swoony eyes and was laughing too loud to be reasonable. It should’ve been me. Not too long ago, it was me.
“Want me to deck him?” Case asked, leaning against my locker. His brow was furrowed, and his eyes narrowed. My protective little brother had my back, yet again.
“I’m okay,” I said.
“You sure? It can be a punch and run.”
“He’s faster than you. You wouldn’t get very far.”
I traded out my books, and Case waited, staring at Riley from where he stood. I caught his glances and sighed.
“Don’t do it,” I said, closing my locker.
“Don’t do what?”
“Make a move.”
I stepped away and he met my pace.
“I’m your older sister, so I’m required to tell you when you have a bad idea,” I explained. “She’s going to college in eight months, and you’ll be here. Enjoy your time while you have it, and worry about girls after you’re graduated.” I turned, glancing at the library. “I need to stop in here before Mrs. Jenkins shuts the system down. Catch you after practice?”
“I’ll grab a pizza,” he replied. “We’ll watch Planes, Trains and Automobiles.”
“Sounds great.”
Through the library’s open doors, the lemony scent of furniture polish and the musty aroma of books hung in the air. Mrs. Jenkins, the librarian, stood behind the counter with a stack of books and a scanner in her hand. She nodded at me as I headed for the shelves.
“I’m checking these in,” she said, motioning toward the stack, “but then I’m closing up. Try to hurry, please.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I darted to the section on ancient Greece and pulled my notebook from my bag. I had a world history project due in a week, and I’d been too preoccupied to finish.
“Adam, we’ll be closing in a minute,” Mrs. Jenkins said. “Please find your selection as soon as possible.”
“Sure thing.”
My nerves stood on edge as I caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye. He was headed in my direction, wearing his red-and-black letter jacket over a navy T-shirt and a fitted pair of jeans. He looked good, but Adam’s looks weren’t the problem.
“You working on history?” he asked, his voice low as he stopped beside me and grabbed a book from the shelf.
“Yeah. You?”
“Same.” He flipped through the pages, then put the book back. “I’ve been too busy to get it done.”
“Football?”
“Among other things.” He chose another book and surveyed the writing on the back. “You haven’t been around much,” he said, shifting so he faced me.
“Neither have you,” I answered.
I put the book back, but Adam took it as soon as it hit the shelf. Fine. Wasn’t what I needed anyway. I took a step back, searching for a book on the top shelf. When I found what I was looking for, I tried to grab it, but it was too far out of reach.
“Sucks to be short,” Adam said, grabbing the book. “Bet you wish you had a few more inches.”
“Bet you wish that, too.”
He chuckled and handed me the book, giving me the first real smile I’d seen since our fight. Even though we were broken up, that stupid smile tugged at my heartstrings.
“I need to go,” I said, turning. “Thanks for the book.”
I checked out while Adam searched the shelves. He lingered behind, but caught up as I exited the school’s back doors.
“Hey,” he said, slowing as I stopped beside my car.
I pushed the unlock button and glanced at him. His cheeks were tinged pink from the cold, and his hair was windblown.
“What do you need?” I asked, rubbing my arms to ward away the cold.
“My grandma’s asking about you. It’s been over a week. She misses you.”
“I miss her, too.”
Adam shifted the weight on his feet and scanned the empty parking lot. “Would you call her?” he asked, sighing. “She hasn’t been doing well. It would do her some good to talk to you.”
“I’ll call her on my way home,” I answered, nodding.
I paused as he met my gaze. There were so many things I wanted to say to him, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t find the words to tell him how sorry I was, and how much I still loved him.
“You doing okay?” I asked.
“I’m fine, but I’ve got to go.” He turned, the gravel crunching beneath his feet as he walked to his truck.
We were far from good terms, but Wanda was an exception to our conflict. If she needed me to call, I’d call. That would never change.
* * *
The hospital sent my call to Wanda’s room the same time I entered my driveway. Outside, dressed in a thick Christmas sweater, my mom hauled a tote across the yard. The holidays were upon the Collins household; no light would be spared.
“Hello?” Wanda said.
“Wanda?”
“Claire!” In the background, her heart monitor beeped. She grumbled something about respiratory therapy, then returned to our call. “Sorry. That darn doctor is stuck on these three-a-day therapy sessions. Thinking about tossing the breathing thing in the hazardous materials bin. Think it’ll keep him away?”
“Probably not,” I answered, chuckling.
“Fine. Guess I’ll deal with it.” She coughed, heaving heavily. “You see,” she sputtered. “All this therapy and still got this cough.”
“It’s for your own good.”
“Now you sound like Adam.” She paused, coughing again. “I’m glad you called. I need you to do me a favor. Waited a tad too long, and I’m afraid if I don’t ask, it won’t get done.”
“What is it?”
“I need someone to get Adam a birthday gift from me.”
My words hung in my throat. Hadn’t Adam told her we broke up?
“His birthday is the fifth,” she said. “I would do it myself, but I’m limited to the hospital gift store. The selection is a bit underwhelming. Nothing in there screams teenage boy, unless he’s taken a sudden liking to stuffed animals and angel figurines.”
“Wanda.” I sighed, trying to figure out how to let her down gently.
“Oh! I bet I could order him a small cake. Maybe one of the bakeries would be willing to deliver to the hospital? What do you think, dear?”
“I think he’d like that.”
“Fabulous! It would have to be sugar free, of course, given my dietary restrictions, but maybe we can spruce it up. I don’t know. I’ll think on the cake while you focus on the presents.” She
coughed again, this time longer than before.
“Wanda, are you okay?”
“Peachy,” she answered, coughing. There was a brief pause, then she was back on the line. “There’s some cash in the second drawer of my nightstand. Feel free to take whatever you need.”
My mom knocked on my window, and I held up a hand to halt her. She ignored me and raised a tangled string of icicle lights.
“One minute,” I mouthed.
“I wonder if they can do a sugar-free ganache!” Wanda continued. “Oh, chocolate truffles?! Tiramisu?”
“All of those sound great,” I answered, “and I’ll get him a gift. Don’t know what it’ll be, but you’ll have something to give him.”
“Thank you, dear. You’re a real sweetheart.”
“You’re welcome.” I glanced at my mom, who was now standing beside a ladder, this time scowling as she held a clump of tangled icicle lights. “Um, hey, I’ve got to go. My mom’s decorating our house, and she’s having an issue with the lights.”
“Okay, hun. I’ll see you soon?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I walked across the lawn, meeting my mom as she made progress untangling the lights.
“This looks fun,” I said, “but I thought we were doing this after Friday, when Dad could help.”
“He’s distracted. Besides, I want the lights up sooner rather than later.” She handed them to me and scooted the ladder across the grass. Dead leaves crunched beneath her feet. “And, since you brought it up…” she said, smiling.
“Friday’s the championship. I know.” I studied the candy-cane stakes strewn across the lawn. “Those new?” I asked, changing the topic.
“Yeah.” She stepped off the ladder again. “Got them in the mail today, along with another box you’ll love.”
“A box of what?”
“If I told you, the surprise would be ruined.” She hooked her arm around mine and led me toward the front door. “Now, I know you already have the mock version from Homecoming, but this is different.”
“What’s different?” I asked, following her into the house.
She entered the living room, beelining to a large cardboard box beside the couch. She squatted and pulled an object from inside, a piece of clothing wrapped in a clear plastic.
“Happy early Christmas,” she said, handing it over.
Surviving Adam Meade Page 17