Abi and the Boy She Loves Read online

  “Later?” I asked.

  “Duh.”

  I laughed and bent to my backpack. I had a policy class to study for. Our teacher was having us memorize countless supreme court cases, and I needed my grade to be good for my law school applications.

  Using index cards and brand-new markers Grandma sent in a care package, I began writing each case and the main points I needed to know. Getting lost in this was easy—something about one decision impacting people for generations to come spoke to me. Someday, I wanted to help people get these decisions right.

  Jon let out a heavy sigh. The kind you usually only heard from old men talking about millennials.

  My hand froze on Griswold vs. Connecticut. “Everything okay?”

  He let out another groan in response and pushed back from his desk.

  “You’re going full-blown caveman; it must be bad.”

  Not even a hint of humor touched his face. Instead, he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and slowly rubbed.

  I stood from the chair, setting down my notes. “What’s going on?”

  Refusing to speak, he gestured at the computer screen, where there was a handwritten note on a scanned document.

  Lacks personality. There has to be more to you than running, Mr. Gump.

  My eyebrows flew up my forehead. “Your professor wrote that?”

  “Yep,” Jon said flatly. “On my personal profile paper.”

  I couldn’t imagine some backward scenario where a professor had the gall to say something like that to a student. Much less one like Jon. “For what class?”

  “Human behavior.”

  “That’s so inappropriate,” I said.

  Jon ran his hands over his face. “He said I need to do it over or I’ll keep the D minus he gave me.”

  “D minus?”

  “Yep.”

  I hated that word now. Yep. And the professor who made Jon say it in such a dejected way. Didn’t he know Jon was the hardest working person in existence? That he poured his heart and soul and body into track practices to be the very best he could be? How could the professor minimize that into a poorly constructed Forrest Gump reference? The more I thought about it, the more I hated the guy.

  “I can go tell him exactly where to shove his D minus,” I grumbled.

  Jon cast me a sideways glance. “Maybe we shouldn’t be talking about professors shoving their Ds places.”

  “Oh God.” My cheeks went immediately red, and I covered my face with my hands.

  At last, I heard Jon laugh, but the tightness in my chest remained.

  Chapter Four

  I think I finally understood the creeps in vampire movies. I woke up before Jon the next morning, and for a while, I just watched him sleep. He looked so peaceful like this.

  Sometimes, I felt like I needed to steal his peace for myself. I didn’t have much lately. Even though the letters had stopped and Grandma said Eric was still in the hospital, I didn’t feel safe on campus. Or anywhere, really.

  Only when I was right next to Jon. Or Anika. Or Nikki.

  I didn’t trust myself to meet anyone new, especially when my radar had been so off with Eric. But I knew Jon in every way a person could know someone. I wanted to keep knowing him forever.

  He shifted, and his arm tightened around me. I froze, hoping he would stay asleep and I could watch him a while longer.

  When he slept like this, he looked younger, carefree, his dark lashes fanned across his cheeks and the corners of his mouth slack.

  I still couldn’t believe the professor had told Jon he didn’t have a personality. But then I remembered Jon’s past abuse from his mom’s boyfriend. He seemed so well-adjusted it was easy to forget he carried scars of his own.

  I hadn’t read the paper, but maybe his bland presentation of himself was his scar tissue. Sometimes, when you’re hurt, you don’t want to lay yourself bare. You can’t. You hide yourself behind a thick, protective barrier. The more someone knew about you, the more they could hold against you.

  My mom was proof of that.

  She might not know me anymore, but she knew the deepest corners of my insecurities and wielded them better than any weapon. Eric knew where I came from, the monster of a man whose blood ran through my veins, and he persecuted me for that.

  The ways they’d attacked me made me feel even luckier that I had friends at home who cared for me. Who I could trust.

  I couldn’t wait to see them over Christmas break. Especially Skye, Andrew, and Roberto. The East Coast was too far away. I missed them and having all of our friends together.

  Jon shifted again, but this time, one of his eyes opened. “Are you staring at me?”

  Slightly embarrassed, I said, “So what if I am?”

  “Then I’ll have to give you something to stare at.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I don’t know,” he huffed and scooted closer. “Now, shut up and kiss me.”

  We stayed in bed, kissing, enjoying each other until my stomach was growling and Jon was insisting we go to the dining hall. I didn’t want to leave though. I wanted to stay in this safe nest blanketed in the love we’d created.

  “Kyle’s going to be here soon anyway,” Jon reminded me. “Might as well give him some time to settle in.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed, even though I didn’t want to.

  We stopped by my room so I could change and brush my teeth, then continued to the dining hall. The other reason I didn’t like going out? Everyone stared at me now. I’d barely gotten used to the forced anonymity college offered, and now I was a local celebrity. But in the sad, kitten-you-can’t-adopt-staring-at-you-from-behind-the-cage kind of way. Everyone wanted to know how I’d escaped Eric’s attack two months ago. What I’d done to earn such a wrath. Why the guy in news stories had gone from cute and rugged to vicious and bandaged in a hospital bed.

  “I hate this,” I muttered after the person swiping us in stared at me for way too long.

  Jon held on tighter to my waist. “It’s not your problem. It’s theirs.”

  “Doesn’t feel like it.”

  “Come on,” he said, grabbing a tray for each of us. “You know, maybe they’re just staring at your super-hot-but-lacks-personality boyfriend.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You forgot to add ‘melodramatic.’”

  “That’s good.” He scratched his chin. “Maybe I should add that to the re-write.”

  “Add ridiculous too.”

  He bumped my shoulder with his. “You’re mean when you’re hungry.”

  “Then feed me.”

  We walked to Jon’s favorite serving line—classics—which always had his staples of chicken, hamburgers, nachos and the like. I couldn’t quite bring myself to eat there much, but I waited with him before going to the Asian grill.

  They loaded my plate with grilled chicken, flavorful rice, and steamed vegetables. I couldn’t wait to dig in.

  When we sat down, Jon watched me take my first bites with the nervous look he always had at the beginning of a meal. Like he wanted to confirm I was following through with the nutritionist’s and psychologist’s advice. That I was getting better.

  I didn’t confront him about it because I knew his concern meant he cared. Even if the hovering bothered me. I’d done plenty to earn his worry.

  “So, what’s on the agenda for today?” I asked.

  “I have a surprise for you.”

  “Yeah?”

  He lifted his chin. “Actually, she’s coming this way.”

  Chapter Five

  I twisted in my seat to see Stormy coming toward me, looking way too adorable in a flowy polka-dot top that perfectly accentuated her growing bump.

  “Stormy!” I cried, bringing even more attention to myself as I stumbled out of my chair.

  She ran my way, curly hair flying behind her, and wrapped me in a hug.

  “I missed you,” I said, returning the embrace.

  “Same, chica.” She squeezed me even tighter. �
�Ugh. Track is stupid.”

  I pulled back, laughing. “So are full-time jobs.”

  “Right?” She flipped her hair back. “You know, other than the money.”

  “Money? What’s that?” I laughed and looked between her and Jon. “What are you doing here?”

  Her arms circled her stomach. “Mom wanted to do some shopping for the nursery.”

  “How long are you here?”

  “We’re leaving tomorrow. I was wondering if you’d want to do a girls’ night at our hotel?”

  “Um, duh!” I cried. Then I looked at Jon. “Sorry.”

  He chuckled. “I had to get some distraction-free studying done anyway.” There was a wink in his words that Stormy caught, going by her sly smile.

  “You know what distractions lead to, right?” She pointed at her stomach.

  I laughed. “Come sit with us. We’re almost done eating.”

  She and Jon shared an approving look I would have been blind to miss, but I pretended not to notice, focusing instead on my food.

  Jon talked her ear off about Frank and the baby and work and life in Woodman. He needed to add kind to his list of personality traits. He could walk into a party full of strangers and have them all feeling right at home before the appetizers even arrived.

  When my plate was cleared, Stormy asked, “Are you done with your homework?”

  I nodded. “Finished last night, even with the distractions.”

  Jon gently kicked my leg.

  “Awesome. Want to grab a bag and meet me out front?” She gave Jon and me a coy smile. “Maybe get a kiss goodbye? I know you two can’t stand an hour apart from each other.”

  “Hey, hey, hey,” Jon said. “We can stand an hour apart. It’s two that’s pushing it.”

  I giggled. “Truth.”

  Stormy pretended to gag herself. “Gah, I can’t wait for you guys to hate each other. Just a little bit.”

  “Like you and Frank?” I quipped. “You’re still giving each other googly eyes.”

  Stormy ignored my comment and stood up. “Downstairs in ten!” Then she reached onto a passerby’s plate and grabbed a roll.

  “What the hell?” he asked.

  “I’m pregnant,” she yelled back. “Sue me!”

  Still laughing, Jon said, “Well, one thing’s for sure. She knows how to make an exit.”

  “You can’t miss Stormy,” I agreed, then stood up. “Come on. I better get packed up.”

  We walked down to my dorm, and while I gathered my things for an overnight stay, he tapped on his phone screen.

  “Hot date?” I asked.

  He rolled his eyes. “With a D minus paper.”

  “Still want to tell that jerk where to shove it.”

  “Again with the shoving things.” He shook his head, amused. “No, I’m texting Kyle. He said Anika’s birthday is next Sunday. He wants some help making it special.”

  “That’s sweet.” I put the last of my toiletries into my bag and zipped it shut. I could already feel my chest tightening at the thought of being farther than a floor away from Jon. “You’ll call me tonight, right?”

  He held my face with both of his hands and kissed my nose. “I wouldn’t miss a chance to tell you goodnight.”

  My heart warmed, and I closed my eyes as he kissed my forehead. “I’ll see you at lunch tomorrow, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Do you want me to walk you downstairs?” he asked.

  “Nah,” I said, trying to be brave. “I’ll be fine.”

  Was I reassuring him or myself?

  He wrapped me in a hug and held me to his chest just long enough for my heart to pace itself with the slow beats of his. “I love you, Abi Johnson.”

  “I love you, too, Jon Scoller.”

  His lips landed softly on the crown of my head. “Now, go have a good time with Stormy. She needs you.”

  My brows came together. “Since when did Stormy need anyone?”

  “The strongest people got that way for a reason.” His smile was conflicted. “I’ll let her tell you herself.”

  Chapter Six

  I turned over yet another four-figure price tag and tried not to make a face.

  Stormy said that was embarrassing. But gah, two thousand dollars for what equated to a baby cage on wheels? Come on.

  “Is there a scratch-and-dent section?” I asked the salesperson who’d been following us around the store like we were criminals.

  She pointed over her shoulder at an impossibly small yellow sign that said sale.

  Stormy’s mom grabbed her arm. “Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner.”

  “Cha-ching,” I said.

  Stormy gave us an exasperated smile. “You two are the worst,” she said and followed us back to the room. Half of the fluorescent lights were burned out, casting a low, flickering hue over the room full of discarded baby gear.

  Why a six-pound human needed so many things, I had no idea, but here we were in the land of lost items ready to find a home.

  Stormy’s mom flipped up a tag on a lamp and grinned. “That’s more like it.”

  Stormy walked past her to a dark wooden crib and ran her hands over the surface. Her eyes gleamed, and I could tell she wasn’t seeing the furniture, but her future. Her child, her world, lying on the bed.

  I reached down beside her and checked the price tag. “I’m getting this for you.”

  Her dark, conflicted eyes found mine. “Are you sure?”

  “It’s the least I could do.”

  Her mom found a matching changing table, and Stormy picked out a rocking chair. After we paid, Stormy and her mom made plans to pick everything up the next morning before they went home.

  Stormy’s mom said the flickering lights had given her a headache, so we went to the hotel. They had gotten two separate rooms, and it made me even more worried about what Stormy needed to tell me. What was going on with my best friend?

  The baby had to be okay—we’d just dropped some serious money on the nursery—but she hadn’t mentioned Frank. My gut dropped. If he’d skipped out, I would end him. Stormy and my goddaughter deserved more than a deadbeat sperm donor.

  We stood in the doorway of Stormy’s mom’s room while she searched through her purse for our room key and I made plans for revenge.

  She handed one to Stormy and one to me, then handed over the keys to her car. “Why don’t you two go have some fun while I take a nap?”

  Stormy turned to me and smiled, but I had a hard time telling whether it was real or not. “You game?” she asked.

  “Of course,” I said, masking my rage.

  We left the hotel, and she handed me the keys. “I don’t know why I even have these. I have no idea where things are here.”

  “Me either,” I admitted. “The dorm and the track are about the extent of it. Oh, and the corn run.”

  “Corn run?” she laughed.

  “Yeah, it’s this country loop where we go training.”

  “Show me everything,” she said. “I want to see what college is like.”

  So I obliged. We drove around campus while I told her all about my professors. The funny ones, the boring ones, the ones who always complained about teacher’s pay. Then I told her about cafeteria food that all tasted the same after a while and how no one talked to each other on campus except for sorority girls who squealed at the sight of matching Comfort Colors T-shirts.

  She laughed. “I bet it would be fun to join a sorority.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Who are you, and what have you done with my best friend?”

  “Seriously,” she said. “A bunch of girlfriends all living together? It would be like Gilmore Girls, but with frat parties and more than two cute guys at a time.”

  “Well, when you put it that way.” I laughed.

  But she was already staring out the window, her mind somewhere else.

  “Let me show you the corn run,” I said.

  I drove out to the country roads Jon had shown me on move-in day. I
confided in her about our first date at Upton, the confession he’d made. She took it all in, her eyes hungry.

  “I’ll never have this,” she said.

  “But you’ll have this.” I put a hand on hers that was still on top of her growing stomach. “That has to mean something.”

  Tears brimmed in her eyes. “Abi, I’m scared.”

  “Stormy, what’s going on?” I pulled the car into the turn-off and waited. My heart stalled, dreading her news.

  “I have pre-eclampsia, high blood pressure. It’s bad for me, but it could be”—she choked on the word—“lethal for the baby.” She sobbed over her lap, tears for her and Frank and the love of their lives she’d carried but not yet held.

  “I think my mom got me the nursery things just to prove it would all be okay,” she sniffed. “But what if it’s not?”

  “It will be,” I said.

  “Why?” she demanded, her eyes on me, desperate for answers I didn’t have.

  “Because it has to be,” I said. “It has to be.”

  Chapter Seven

  We went back to the hotel room soon after her tears had run out. Stormy lay in one of the beds, flicking through TV channels, spent from her confession. I went to the bathroom and took my time, as much to relieve myself as to give her a second alone.

  How could I comfort my friend when I had not the slightest idea of what she was going through? I’d never created life, been in charge of more than myself. Her worries were beyond what I could comprehend. All I knew was that I’d be there for her, no matter what happened, just like she’d been there for me.

  When I walked out of the bathroom, her mouth was open and eyes closed, as she snored louder than the sitcom playing on the TV. I smiled at her, mostly because I’d finally found a pose that wasn’t flattering on her. Partly because she obviously needed the sleep.

  I went to her and took the remote out of her loose grip, clicked off the TV, and set the remote on the nightstand. Then I turned off all the lights except for one lamp and left the room to go on a walk around the hotel.

  I’d told Stormy everything would be okay, but what if it wasn’t? As I meandered toward the lobby, I searched pre-eclampsia on my phone. It sounded really scary. I wished I could reach out to my mom about this. Not my terrible mom, but the one of my dreams. One who would listen and care and know what to say to a woman scared for her health and that of her child’s.