Because I don’t want to leave. “I’ve been busy.”
She caught the lip balm and sat up on the bed, applying it to her lips. “Busy doing nothing until marriage?”
My cheeks warmed. “Maybe.” That was true enough. When I wasn’t working, I was spending time with Jon or my friends, soaking up every minute I had before everything changed. Now change was unavoidable.
I turned my back to her and started on my dresser. The last part of my life in Woodman to get tucked away and transplanted to my dorm room. All my feelings from my last move bubbled up, but I had to remind myself this was different. My possessions were being stored in clean containers, not hastily shoved into garbage bags. I wasn’t healing from bruises. I would be able to show my face, my strong new body, instead of hiding behind layers of make-up and baggy clothing. There would always be a place for me to come home to. Grandma had assured me of that.
“You sure you don’t want help?” Stormy asked.
I shook my head, knowing she was watching me, and started transferring clothes into Grandma’s suitcase. It was covered in cream and red roses, faded from years of use.
As I pulled a pair of jeans from the bottom drawer, two letters fell from inside the fold. Both with the same blocky handwriting.
I hastily shoved the notes in my bag, glancing over my shoulder to make sure Stormy hadn’t seen.
She had.
She quirked a brow. “Love letters?”
I rolled my eyes, trying not to show how shaken up just holding them made me. “Something like that.”
My heart pounding, I stood with the suitcase. The letters made it feel a thousand pounds heavier than it was.
No one had admitted to sending them, but they had stalled for the last few weeks. I hoped it meant they were done—not-so-funny game over.
“Need help loading it up?” Stormy asked.
I nodded. “Don’t let Grandma see—”
“See what?” Grandma asked, coming in my room and gazing around. “You’re not trying to keep me from helping, are you?”
“Nooo,” I said sarcastically, handing her the smallest bag in my room. “Here, take this.”
Grandma glared at me, an echo of my mom’s deadly stares, and she picked up a heavier box. “Good lord,” she said, carrying them toward the front door. “I’m old, not an invalid.”
Stormy and I exchanged glanced. I cringed, but she grinned.
“Your grandma is goals,” she said.
I couldn’t disagree.
Stormy walked around to the back of my car. “How do you open this thing?”
I laughed. “The trunk’s up here,” I said, going to the front.
She shook her head. “I’ll never get used to that.”
The three of us made quick work of loading up my things, which all fit comfortably in the car, either in the trunk or back seat. I’d come with barely anything, and even though I was leaving with a lot more, I still didn’t have much.
I shut the trunk and locked the doors. Grandma stood with her hands on her hips while Stormy and I sprawled out on the grass, breathing hard.
Stormy rolled her head toward me. “Why didn’t Jon do this?”
“Because,” Grandma said, “we are strong, capable women.” She paused. “Well, you two are. I’m a helpless old lady, right, Abi?”
I pointed my gaze back at her, at the pleased smile on her face, and started laughing. “Fine, Gram, you win.”
She looked pleased. “Now, get inside and freshen up. We’re going to be late.”
Chapter Fourteen
Why we kept saying goodbye in public places, I didn’t know. The entire time we ate lunch with Jon’s family, Grandma, Frank, and Stormy, I felt seconds away from tearing up. Each swallow of my food had to go over this massive lump in my throat.
Yeah, Jon and I would be together, but what about Grandma? The woman who was there in the living room every morning when I woke up for my run, who offered me green tea and egg white omelets when I got back? Or Marta, who treated every Wednesday evening like a huge event with a three-course meal and cross-stitched place mats?
Or Stormy. Who’d somehow gone from a ray of hope to my enemy to the best friend I’d ever had.
What would life be like without them?
What would I be like without them?
After eating, we went out to the parking lot, walking slower than needed, even though it had to be more than a hundred degrees outside and some A/C would feel like heaven.
Marta squinted at me, her hand shading her eyes. “So, this is goodbye?”
I swallowed, nodded.
Without warning, she pulled me into a hug. “I know you have your grandma, but ever since that first night you ate at our house, I’ve thought of you as a daughter.” She rubbed my back and pulled away. “You’ll let me know if you need anything at all, right?”
I nodded. If this was how I handled my first goodbye, I was toast… full-blown, buttery, blubbery toast.
Glen squeezed me next while Grandma and Jon said their goodbyes. “We’re going to miss you. At our house and at the firm.”
I hugged him back. Marta said she thought of me as a daughter, but after months of seeing Mr. Scoller almost every day and working with him, I thought of him like a father. If Jon wasn’t his son and it wouldn’t be gross, I would have wished for him to be my dad.
“Take care,” he said.
“You too.” And I meant it. I couldn’t imagine his life outside of being Jon’s dad. This change would be hard for him too.
Then Grandma stood in front of me, and... I turned into a puddle right there, ready to evaporate under the late summer sun. She took me into her arms, holding me up. This woman had gone from being my grandma who lived a couple towns over to being my rock. She’d believed in me when society—my parents even—said I’d never amount to anything. She’d taken the shell of Abi and brought her back to life.
“Grandma,” I began, but choked over the words I wanted to say. About how much I loved her and how I would miss seeing her in the evenings or being jealous about how she could out power-walk me, even at seventy years old. Instead, I sobbed into her shoulder. I’d been preparing for this day, this moment, but nothing could prepare me for this feeling of complete loss.
“Shh, shh,” she soothed me, rocking me. “You listen to me,” she said, a barely detectible waver in her voice. “You are amazing. You overcome obstacles, you love with your whole heart, and you never let what anyone thinks of you crowd out what you think of yourself. And when you start doubting yourself, you just come right back to me, and I’ll tell you how much I love you. How much you should love yourself. You hear me?”
I nodded against her shoulder and managed the only words that mattered. “I love you too.”
Her hand rubbed my arm, and she backed away until it fell at her side. “You’re going to do great things. Just you wait and see.” She squeezed my cheek.
“Ready to go?” Glen asked. “Give these kids some time to say goodbye?”
She nodded, reaching into her purse. In her grasp was a manila envelope. “I got your mail before we came here. You let me know your forwarding address so I can—”
“Get my mail forwarding set up,” I finished. She’d already mentioned it a few times in the last couple days. “I will. I promise.”
The business of it all held me together, at least while she, Glen, and Marta got into the Scollers’ car, leaving the four of us friends to say our goodbyes. But without her, I was already wrecked.
“Abi...” Stormy began, but I shook my head, stuffing the envelope in my own purse.
“I can’t take anymore,” I said.
She took my shoulders and shook them. “What are you talking about? You’re Abi freaking Johnson. You can do anything.”
I wiped at my nose. “That’s not my middle name.”
She snorted. “Jon, talk some sense into her.”
He took my hand, squeezed, but he didn’t try to talk me out of the pain. Instead,
he said, “It’s hard to say goodbye.”
Stormy’s lips faltered. “We’re not saying goodbye.”
“What do you call it?” I asked.
But Frank spoke first. “Go do something with your lives. We’ll be here cheering you on.”
I was pretty sure that was the most Frank had ever said at one time, but Stormy nodded like he’d captured it perfectly. Still, red rimmed her eyes, and she said with a false levity, “Just don’t forget us little people, yeah, chica?”
Wearing a bittersweet smile, I shook my head and hugged her. “I could never. I love you, chica.”
She smiled and pulled back. “Get out of here. It’s time to chase your dreams.”
Chapter Fifteen
When I moved into Grandma’s house, a caseworker—I didn’t even remember his name—drove me the hour from McClellan to Woodman and dropped me off at her front door. I sat in the back seat of the white van, even though he’d offered to let me sit up front. I ate the fast food meal he’d gotten me, not really tasting it, just knowing I needed the reliability of food’s comfort when everything in my life had been turned upside down.
How was I supposed to know what Woodman would hold for me? Friends, a family, a life?
Now, as I drove away from Woodman, tears streamed down my cheeks. A lunch box with healthy snacks sat in the passenger seat, even though Upton U was only a couple hours away.
Jon’s car blurred in front of me, and I blinked away the tears, my eyelids clearing my eyes like windshield wipers.
My phone rang, and I reached out to answer it. Jon.
“Hello?”
“You know what I think?”
I sniffed. “That phone greetings are dumb?”
He laughed. “No. I think that this is going to be the best thing that ever happened to us.”
“Yeah? Why?” I swiped at the tears on my cheeks. This didn’t feel like the best thing.
“We’re going to a great college, meeting all new people, getting the best in training advice, majoring in what we want...We’re finally going to live life on our own terms. No ex-girlfriends or boyfriends, no parents, no friends. Just us against the world.”
The corners of my lips twitched up. “Say that. Again.”
“What? That we get to live life on our own terms?”
“No, the last part.”
“It’s just us against the world?”
“Mhmm,” I said, setting my cruise. “Do you mean it?”
“I do,” he replied. “Abi, there’s no one else I want to have all these firsts with.”
My stomach clenched, dropped, soared. All of my firsts would be with Jon. And I hoped my lasts would be too.
“How does that sound?” he asked.
“Like perfection.”
I could practically hear his smile through the phone. “It does to me too.”
We talked for the rest of the trip, sharing our hopes, dreams, fears, everything and nothing at all, growing closer even as we drove in separate vehicles toward an unknown future.
I wanted to believe in all these things, but as we pulled into a gas station on the outskirts of Austin and I waited for him to run in and use the bathroom, I realized how afraid I was to hope. Hoping and being disappointed was crushing. Fearing and being right was affirming, if nothing else.
I sighed and pull out the manila envelope Grandma gave me earlier. Might as well get rid of some junk mail before having to clean it all out of my dorm.
I flipped each of the envelopes forward on the stack and then froze. A single, white envelope with no return address and my name written in little block letters. My fingers trembled as I ripped open the back flap and saw the writing insde.
Chapter Sixteen
You won’t last six months.
I wanted to ball it up, throw it in the trash outside my window and never see this person’s words again, but my fingers stayed frozen on the page. Was the letter a doubt in my abilities...or a threat?
When I glanced up, I saw Jon walking toward my car, and I hurried to shove the letter back in the manila envelope. I didn’t know why I hid it from him. Telling him just didn’t seem right, like it didn’t fit in my relationship with Jon and this perfect dream he had for us. Stress, panic, over something I wasn’t even sure amounted to more than a mean prank, wasn’t worth worrying him.
He opened my door and handed me a Nerds rope.
I eyed it, already guessing how many calories it had and how hard I would need to work out to make up for the extra sugar intake.
“Live a little,” Jon said, like he was reading my mind.
I looked up at him, unable to come up with a witty response or even a smile.
His eyes immediately shifted from brilliant to worried, and he squatted next to my car so we were closer to eye level. “What’s going on?”
Um, maybe I’m moving away from the only real home I’d ever known to a place where, like the card suggested, I didn’t even know if I’d make it through the first semester, let alone all four years. And I was on my own, other than a boyfriend who was likely less than a few months away from realizing how much better he could do than me. And I had a letter in my passenger seat, saying all of that in a single sentence.
But I didn’t tell him that. I just shook my head, trying to swallow down the fire ball of a lump in my throat.
His palms covered my knees, and I tried to focus my every thought on the warmth that lived there, but it was hard.
“Abi,” he said, squeezing a little. “Look at me. Let me see those beautiful eyes.”
My lashes fluttered, and I turned my eyes away for a moment, fighting tears. His thumb brushed under my chin, lifting my gaze.
“Hey,” he breathed. “Are you scared?”
I nodded, letting him assume about what.
“I’m scared too.”
Jon Scoller, afraid? He’d have everyone on campus in love with him within a matter of minutes. “What do you have to be afraid of?”
He smirked. “Maybe some jock stealing my girl.”
I rolled my eyes and stole a line from Clueless. “As if.”
“Maybe I’m not cut out for college courses. It’s not like I was ever amazing at school.”
“At least you didn’t need a teacher to hand-feed you answers twice a week.” I tried to keep the pain out of my voice at the mention of Mr. Pelosi. He’d been my saving grace that first semester at Woodman. Now I’d probably never see him again.
With an exasperated expression, he shook his head. “What if I can’t juggle it all? College and track will be a lot.”
The real fear behind his words showed through in the tightness of his eyes. And it struck me. Jon really was afraid. It wasn’t right. His perfect features shouldn’t be pinched like they were now.
I took his face in both of my hands and put my forehead to his, breathing for a moment. I hoped he could feel the love I had for him through the connection. “You’re going to be amazing. You already are.”
One of his hands covered mine on his cheek, and he pulled it away. The only thing that gave me any hope was the fact that he kept holding it, albeit loosely. He refused to meet my eyes as he said the next part. “You know I don’t have any friends, right?”
My brows came together. “What do you mean? We hang out with my friends all the time.”
“Right,” he said. “Your friends. I can’t think of a single person from Woodman, outside of my family, you, and your friends, that I want to stay in touch with. Don’t you think there’s something wrong with that?”
I chewed on my lip. “I’m the least qualified person to comment on that.”
He groaned and buried his head in my shoulder. “What if there’s something wrong with me?”
The very idea of him thinking there was anything wrong with him was like someone saying the sun was cold. It just didn’t make sense. “Jon, I was being serious when I said you’re amazing. There’s not a doubt in my mind you’ll fit right in.”
His eyes seemed tro
ubled, free of his usual confidence. “Promise you’ll stay by my side, through it all?”
“Of course.” I couldn’t imagine it any other way.
Chapter Seventeen
The farther we got into Austin, the more cars crowded the road, the harder it was to stick right behind Jon’s car. Soon, traffic separated us, and his number flashed across my screen.
“I lost you,” he said.
“I know,” I grunted, holding the cell between my cheek and my shoulder. Driving a stick in the city called for two hands.
“Need me to pull over?”
“We’re on the interstate,” I argued. “You go ahead. I’ll stop and plug it in my phone. Just...save me a spot, okay?”
“Promise.”
I took the next exit and typed in the address. Even though I knew Jon would be waiting for me, I felt so much more alone. Energy thrummed through my body as I entered the freeway again, attempting to keep up with it all.
Eventually, finally, I saw the signs for freshman move-in. They unsettled me more.
Since Jon and I both went potluck on the roommate situation, I’d be meeting the person I’d live with for the next year in only moments. I hoped she wasn’t weird or cult-y or any of the other horrifying ways movies portrayed terrible roommates.
But maybe if she was bad, that would give me just another reason to go see Jon in his dorm room...
I hit my signal and turned into the drive along the dorm building. The car in front of me slammed on its brakes, and I did too, effectively killing my engine. I glared at the guy who jumped out, and he gave me an apologetic look under dark wavy hair as his ride drove away.
“Sorry,” he mouthed, his wide eyes earnest.
I looked away, trying to hide how embarrassed I was as I started my car back up. Finally, finally, finally, I was able to pull up behind Jon’s car, where he stood with his arms folded over his chest, waiting.
He smiled at me through my windshield, and I smiled anxiously back at him, parked my car. I took a deep breath to still my shaking hands. This was it.
Abi and the Boy Who Lied Page 4
