Abi and the Boy She Loves Read online

  I went to the breakfast bar and made myself some green tea before sitting down at one of the tables. There were still a couple of hours before I’d normally be ready for bed, but I called Jon anyway.

  He answered after the first few rings. “Hello?”

  “You knew?”

  There was a cringe in his answer. “Frank told me. He was worried Stormy wouldn’t tell you.”

  My heart hurt for the girl snoring away upstairs. “Why does she think she always has to be so strong?”

  “I could ask you the same thing.” He paused. “How was she?”

  “Scared.” I slowly stirred the tea in my cup, watching the water go from clear to pale yellow. “I didn’t know what to say to her, Jon.”

  “I don’t think there’s much you can say.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well,” he said, “it’s not exactly the kind of thing you can fix. She just needs to know there will be someone there for her, no matter what.”

  I groaned. “It sucks watching someone hurt and not being able to do anything about it.”

  He snorted in response. “Tell me about it.”

  Well, that shut me up. He’d been there just a few months prior, watching me waste away while going through his own family tragedy.

  “It’s life,” Jon added. “It can’t be perfect.”

  “Why not?” I asked for Stormy just as much as for myself.

  “I’ll tell you when I find out.”

  I gave a half-hearted smile. “Gee, thanks.”

  “At your service.”

  When it became clear we couldn’t solve the problems before us, we talked for a little while longer about homework and school and what we would do for Christmas break, and then we said goodbye.

  After the call ended, I glanced around and realized how alone I was. There wasn’t a soul to be seen in the lobby area. The receptionist was absent from the front desk. No one was trying to check in.

  Suddenly, my heart raced like I was in the middle of the pasture again, and I gulped in deep breaths, trying to keep up. My therapist had told me to put my head between my knees and focus on something right in front of me. Describe every bit of it over and over until I remembered I was here. Not there.

  She called it mindfulness.

  I called it impossible.

  I stared at the carpet underneath my feet, the rough fibers, the gray stain, the red and cream pattern, until my breathing slowed again. When I finally straightened up, I saw Stormy leaning against the wall, concern in her eyes.

  “Are you okay?” she breathed.

  And for whatever reason, I burst into tears, only able to shake my head before she came and held me tight, crying right along with me.

  At some point, we looked up at each other, our tear-stained faces, and it hit me how far we’d come from that first day in school when she’d forced me on her motley group of friends. I reached up and held her face. “You’re going to be a great mom.”

  She laughed and wiped at her eyes. “You mean a great mess.”

  “No way,” I said. “Look at you. With all you’re going through, you’re still looking out for me and everyone else. You’re going to be amazing.”

  “You think?” Her voice was small.

  “I know.”

  Chapter Eight

  Stormy and her mom dropped me off at the dorms the next morning, and maybe it was a good thing I was already running late for class, because saying goodbye was nearly impossible. But instead of wallowing, I hurried upstairs to grab my backpack and rushed across campus.

  I kept my headphones firmly in my ears and my eyes on the sidewalk in front of me, counting the lines as I crossed them. There would be no running into anyone. No accidentally making false friends.

  In my policy class, I repeated the professor’s words in my mind as he said them, trying as hard as I could to stay focused on the lecture and not my fears. My past.

  The images that flashed in my mind of that night were getting worse—harder to distinguish from the present. The pounding feeling in my head challenged my heart to beat faster and faster. Superseding all else was the need to glance over my shoulder and make sure Eric wasn’t there.

  On my way to lunch, someone tapped my back, and I screamed, ripping my earbuds out.

  “Whoa,” Jon said. “It’s just me.”

  “Right.” I blinked against the image of Eric reaching for me. “Right.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Just caught me off guard is all.”

  His brows came together. “Are you sure?”

  I nodded. “I just…” I looked around us as we entered the dining hall. “I know it sounds crazy, but I keep seeing... It’s getting worse.”

  Concern and understanding splashed across his face, blending in his features. “Have you talked to your counselor about it?”

  “No,” I said. “But I will. I have an appointment soon.”

  “Good.” He looked like he wanted to say more, but he shook his head. “I trust you.” To get help, he didn’t say.

  “Can we talk about something else?” I asked.

  “Sure.” He swiped in to get food. “What do you want to talk about?”

  I swiped my card too and followed him to the classics line. “Something really painful. The corn run on a hundred-degree day?”

  “Ha ha.”

  “Pap smears?”

  “You’re funny.”

  “The five minutes before a test ends and you still have a million questions left?”

  “I get it, I get it. We won’t talk about therapy,” he said. “What about Anika’s birthday? We still need to come up with some ideas to occupy her while Kyle gets her surprise ready.”

  “What’s he planning?”

  “No idea. But he’s definitely not telling us,” Jon said.

  I raised my eyebrows. “I’m sure we can get it out of him.”

  “Not a chance.”

  “Not even if we say please?”

  He laughed. “Not even if you bat those beautiful blue eyes and pout those perfect lips.”

  I made exactly the face he was talking about, and he kissed away my pout, dousing my middle with warmth.

  I smiled up at him. “You’re kinda perfect, you know.”

  “Gotta take care of my girl.”

  “Say that again.”

  “That again.”

  Laughing, I hit his arm. “You’re dumb.”

  “You’re lovely.”

  A tray landed on the table next to us, and Nikki sat down in an open chair. “If you guys get any cuter, I’m going to throw up.”

  “Same,” Mollie said, sitting down too.

  Jayne shrugged before taking her seat. “I don’t know; I think it’s sweet.”

  Anika took the next spot. “Me too.”

  Jon looked at me. “I think we’ve been invaded.”

  The girls laughed, and Anika said, “Definitely. What have you two been talking about? Happily ever after?”

  “You,” Jon said flatly. “Of course.”

  She laughed and rolled her eyes. “Uh huh. That’s what you were gazing into each other’s eyes about.”

  I gave Jon’s hand a squeeze under the table.

  “So,” Nikki said. “What are you two doing tonight?”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Why don’t you tell us?”

  “Well,” she said. “My dad’s got a job for us to do on the farm. If you’re not too chicken.”

  Chapter Nine

  I didn’t have cowboy boots, but Nikki assured me my old tennis shoes would work. Since we were in the early part of December and it had finally gotten cold in Texas, we took our own vehicles instead of getting wind-whipped in the bed of Nikki’s pickup.

  I sat in the front of the car with Jon while Jayne and Anika sat in the back. They’d both hit it off really well since my birthday party, and I could tell why. They were both infallibly kind. Listening to a conversation between the two of them was like watching a Care Bear episod
e for adults with boyfriends and homework.

  We stopped in the yard of Nikki’s family’s farmhouse and got out of the car. The cold air instantly hit me, and I rubbed my gloves together, trying to warm my hands against what could easily become a bone-deep chill.

  “This way,” Nikki said, her breath coming out in a cloud of steam.

  “What are we doing?” Anika asked.

  “We’ve got to AI the heifers.”

  My brows came together. “Like artificial intelligence? Are there robot cows I don’t know about?”

  Anika and Nikki burst out laughing.

  Okay, I knew there weren’t robot cows, but seriously. I was kind of embarrassed now.

  Anika said, “AI stands for artificial insemination.”

  “Okay, that’s way worse than robot cows,” I said, laughing.

  Mollie laughed like she agreed.

  We reached the barn where Nikki’s dad was messing with a metal tank that almost looked like it could have been used for cream. But instead, the top came off and brought long, thin tubes with it.

  “That’s the semen,” Anika explained.

  “But why?” Jon asked.

  She shrugged. “They put it in heifers since they’re smaller, and it’s easier on them than bulls.”

  Jon and I gave each other a look. I did not need to know this much about where my food came from.

  Nikki’s dad gave us a grin. “These are our helpers?”

  “Yes, sir,” Nikki said. “Still a little wet behind the ears, but they’ll do.” She gave us a conspiratorial grin.

  Her dad explained the system to us, how we could get cattle through the chute while keeping them as calm as possible. And everything went well. The cows’ steps sent loose dirt in the air, giving off an earthy smell. Moos sounded every so often, adding to the country feel, and I could see why people loved this. Out here, it felt like we were a part of the earth, the fundamental system of raising animals and preparing food for everyone.

  I waved my arms and stepped forward to help push one of the cows along, Jon beside me doing the same thing.

  But the heifer didn’t want to go. She stomped at the ground, breathing hard through her nostrils, and started back at us.

  “RUN!” Mollie yelled.

  I split, racing toward the fence and scrambling up as fast as I could. Jon dove to the opposite side, launching through the slats and rolling on the ground outside the pen as the heifer charged back.

  As I looked down over the scene, my heart thundered against my ribcage, adrenaline firing through my system like lightning. Jon stood up across the way, dusting off his jeans.

  Nikki walked our way from the chute. “Everyone okay?”

  “Yeah,” I said, climbing down.

  At the same time, Jon said, “No. Come on, Abi. We’re getting out of here.” He glanced at Anika and Jayne. “You two can find a ride?”

  They nodded.

  I looked between Jon and Nikki, my boyfriend and my best friend in college. Jon was already storming off.

  I gave Nikki an apologetic look and followed Jon away from the pens and the cattle. His legs moved fast, so fast I almost had to jog to keep up with him.

  “What the hell?” he said. “She took us out here to help with that? We have no idea what we’re doing. We could have gotten hurt.” He stopped at the car and waited for my response.

  I couldn’t understand why he was so upset. Why he’d risked offending my friends. “We were okay, though,” I reminded him.

  He gave me a look and got into the car.

  My chest tightened as I followed suit, and his rant continued.

  “Four of us are on the track team,” he thundered. “At Upton on scholarship. If we get injured, that’s over, Abi. No more track. No more scholarship.”

  I looked between him and a splinter on my hand from climbing the corral fence. “We can’t just stop living our lives because we’re on the track team.”

  “No, but we can stop taking unnecessary risks.” His jaw worked as he backed out of the drive and started down the dirt road.

  “I know it was scary, but we were fine,” I said, laying my hand on his leg. “Nothing bad happened.”

  “You don’t get it, do you, Abi?” he asked, then finally met my eyes. There was desperation in his gaze. A heaviness I rarely saw in him. “I’m nothing without track. Nothing.”

  A shard of my heart broke loose. “That’s not true.” Because you’ll always have me, I wanted to say, but I couldn’t bring myself to.

  “It is,” he asserted. “It’s who I am.”

  Chapter Ten

  When we got back to the dorms, I told Jon I was tired and needed to go to sleep. Mostly, I needed some time to process what had happened and find a way to apologize to Nikki.

  Growing up on a ranch clearly wasn’t easy. She knew that lifestyle like the back of her hand, but the hazards were all new to us. How was she supposed to know we weren’t ready to run out of the way? That Jon would react so strongly to a little scare? I hadn’t known myself, and we’d grown as close as two people could be.

  To distract myself—mindfulness be damned—I got out my laptop and checked my emails. There were a few from professors about upcoming assignments and one from...Eleanor Dennis?

  Either someone had stolen my grandma’s identity or they’d taken over her mind and sent her straight to the looney bin.

  I opened it up, ready for a scam email from a Nigerian Prince.

  DEAR ABI,

  JORGE TAUGHT ME HOW TO EMAIL. I DON’T KNOW HOWW TO TURN OFF UPPERCASE TYPING. I WILL EMAIL YOU A PACKING LIST FOR CHRISTMAS WHEN I FIGURE IT OUT. HOPE YOURE DOING WELL. LOVEE YOU TO PIECES.

  GRAM

  I smiled at the screen, thinking of my grandma hunting and pecking for every single letter, not being able to figure out that the light-up key on the keyboard would turn off her caps lock.

  The woman was still my hero. What did that say about me?

  I hit reply and typed back an email.

  Dear Grandma,

  That is so exciting! Tell Jorge thank you! There is a button on your keyboard that says “caps lock.” Push it again and it should come off. I love you.

  Abi

  Within minutes, my phone lit up with a call from Grandma. Before I even said hello, she launched in on her tirade.

  “I don’t know why people email when they could just call each other,” she said. “Jorge said it’s easier for business, but honestly, can’t people just take notes? It took me fifteen minutes to type that. I could have said it in ten seconds.”

  I laughed. “You don’t have to email me if you don’t want to.”

  “Promise?” she said. “My friend Elise told me that’s the only way she can get her grandchildren to talk to her. Takes her an hour to type out an email. I’m ashamed of how long it took me.”

  “No way, Gram,” I said. “You can call me. Who else am I going to talk to about birth control pills?”

  She laughed. “I suppose you’re right.”

  “I am,” I said.

  “How’s Jon doing?”

  I groaned, thinking about the near miss earlier. But then I realized Grandma had known Jon even before I did. She might have some ideas of how to help. “He’s...not great.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I explained what happened—with the paper and what he’d said about running.

  “Running isn’t who he is,” she said. “It’s what he does.”

  “Try telling him that,” I muttered.

  “You know, I think it’s probably tough. Being at college for running and practicing as much as you both do and getting as much praise as he does,” she said. “It would be easy to get wrapped up in that and forget everything else. Winter break will be good for him. For both of you. You can remember who you are outside of college.”

  “I hope so,” I said.

  I didn’t want running to be his everything. He had so much else in life. Parents who loved him, a career in social work to str
ive toward...me. Our future we stayed up late talking and dreaming about.

  “It’ll be okay,” Grandma said like she could hear my thoughts. “Honey, I have to go. Jorge just finished cooking dinner.”

  “You know what comes after dinner, young lady?” I said in my best “mom” voice.

  “Dessert?”

  I laughed at the false innocence in her tone. “Enjoy.”

  “Goodnight, sweetie.”

  Without the distraction of my grandma, I texted Nikki an apology and then threw myself into planning Anika’s birthday. Running might have been Jon’s life, but my loved ones were mine. I wanted them to know that.

  Chapter Eleven

  Around three in the morning of Anika’s birthday, I woke up to my phone alarm. She was typically a pretty heavy sleeper, but I’d set it to vibrate, just in case. Thankfully, she was still asleep.

  I crept to my desk and got rolls of crepe paper and tape from the bottom drawer. In my best ninja moves ever, I covered our room in the stuff, wrapping it around the ladder to her loft bed, her desk chair, the rod in her closet, over her shoes.

  When my eyes had fully adjusted to the dark and I was sure the room looked thoroughly—and ridiculously—festive, I climbed back into my bed and fell asleep again.

  I woke up to Anika’s squeal with light pouring through the windows and drool running down my cheek.

  “Oh my gosh, Abi!” she yelled. “You did this?”

  I wiped at my cheek and pushed myself up. In the morning light, my crepe job looked way shabbier, but the way Anika was grinning, it had gotten my point across. Just in case, I said, “Happy birthday, roomie!”

  “Thank you.” She fingered a loose end of crepe paper hanging on her guard rail and shook her head. “You’re crazy.”

  I laughed. “That’s kind of the point. Now, get showered up because I’m taking you out.”