The Problem with Forever, Page 40

  I shrugged. Maybe he did. I’d been pretty malleable the last four years. “I never...I never disagreed with them over anything, you know. I owe them so much, so I always agreed with whatever they wanted. Whatever they thought best. Like they’ve been pushing this whole med school thing, and I don’t want to do that. But I agreed to look at these pamphlets anyway. I don’t even know why. I think I want...”

  “You want what?”

  “I think I want to go into social work.” I waited for him to laugh. He didn’t. I sat a little straighter. “It’s something that makes sense to me. I could help people like you and me, but Carl had laughed and asked if I was being serious. He said I wouldn’t make any money.”

  “Not everything is about money.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Money helps, though.” He paused. “Carl seems like a good man. He was angry. People say stupid crap when they’re mad.” A muscle throbbed in his jaw. “But I...”

  “What?” I asked when he didn’t finish.

  Rider opened his mouth and then shook his head. “We should get back to school. I don’t want you to get into any more trouble.”

  I slid off the bed and found my socks. When I was finished, Rider was pulling a skull cap on. Tufts of hair curled along the edges. He was silent as we headed downstairs and out to my car.

  Little balls of unease had formed in my stomach. I turned the ignition key and looked over at him. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah. Everything’s fine.” He looked over at me. “Can you drop me off at their aunt’s? It’s on the way to school.”

  I studied him for a moment and then nodded. I needed to stop being paranoid, I told myself as I followed his directions to the aunt’s house. Once there, I got out of the car and Rider met me on my side. He placed his hands on my cheeks and slid his thumbs along my jaw. Lowering his head, he kissed me softly, tenderly—a long kiss, one that left me breathless.

  I didn’t know what it was, but something about the kiss felt different than the ones we’d shared earlier. Something about it felt a little sad.

  Chapter 35

  As soon as I walked through the door, Rosa pounced. “Sit.” All but dragging me into the kitchen, she gestured at a chair. Two mugs were waiting on the table, and I could smell the stick of cinnamon she always liked to place in her tea.

  Taking a deep breath, I did just as she ordered. I didn’t think the school had called since I’d made it to most of my classes, and I wasn’t about to ask. As I waited for her to speak, I couldn’t help but think the morning with Rider felt like forever ago. I was looking forward to reliving every detail when I next talked to Ainsley—I’d texted her earlier and it was a miracle her eruption of squees hadn’t broken my phone.

  “The first thing I want to say is that Carl and I love you,” Rosa said. “We love you as much as we loved Marquette, and I hope you realize that. What Carl said yesterday was not okay. He was angry and worried about you. That’s not a justification for his words. He owes you a big apology.”

  Placing my foot on the chair, I hugged my knee close to my chest. At least it didn’t appear like the school had called. “I don’t...want him to apologize.”

  “He needs to.”

  I shook my head. “I just want him— I want things to go back...” I trailed off, realizing what I was about to say. I want things to go back to the way they were. And that wasn’t true.

  I didn’t want anything to go back to the way it had been.

  “You’re right,” I said, lifting my chin. “He needs to apologize.”

  “And he will.” She studied me. “There’s something you need to understand about Carl. It’s not my story to tell. I just hope you give him a chance.”

  I thought of some of the things Carl had said yesterday, things that made it seem like he had experience with what happened this weekend. I squeezed my knee. “I will.”

  “Good.” She took a sip of her tea. “Carl and I talked a lot while you were gone yesterday, about you and about Rider.”

  Oh, I didn’t like where this was going. Reaching over, I picked up my mug and took a drink. The warm liquid hit my throat, but it didn’t loosen the knots in my stomach.

  “In the four years since we’ve had you, never once did you raise your voice to us. You’ve always agreed with whatever we wanted, no matter what it was.” She paused, and my eyes shot to her. Her knuckles were white as she placed her cup on the table. “You don’t want to go to med school, do you?”

  That came out of left field.

  The immediate instinct was to assuage her concerns, to tell her yes, because I knew that was what she wanted to hear, but I...I couldn’t do it anymore.

  “No,” I admitted quietly. “I don’t want to do that.”

  Rosa closed her eyes briefly and then nodded. “Okay.”

  “Is it...is it really okay?” I asked, bringing up my other knee and circling my arms around both. “I know that’s not what you want to hear.”

  “I’ve always been honest with you, Mallory, and I’ll be honest now. It’s not what I want to hear. A career in research will leave you set for the future, but it’s your future.” She exhaled roughly. “And the most important thing is that you’re happy. Carl feels the same way.”

  I sort of doubted that.

  She picked up her cup. “You’ve really been considering social work?”

  Seeds of excitement rooted deep inside me. “Yes.”

  “Because it means something to you?”

  I nodded.

  “It makes sense.” She lifted the cup to her lips. “With your past, it makes sense that you’d be passionate about making a difference, and I’m proud that you want to do that. It’s not going to be easy for you.”

  The excitement rose swiftly even though Rosa was right. Pursuing a career in social work wouldn’t be easy for me. I knew I would work cases that would be painfully similar to mine. I knew it would be a job I’d take home with me at the end of the day, but it would be a job I cared about.

  “We’ll support you, Mallory. I just want you to know that. Whether it be med school or social work or flying to the moon, we will support you.”

  A bit of weight lifted from my chest. “Thank you.”

  Rosa was quiet for a moment. “This situation with Rider—”

  “I love him,” I blurted out. Her gaze sharpened, but once I spoke the words aloud, I didn’t want to take them back. “I love him. I’m not going to stop seeing him.”

  “Honey, I...” She leaned over, placing her hand on my bent knee. “I know you think you’re in love, but you two have this past where it was just you and him against the world. I can understand why you might think you feel that way, after all that you two have shared.”

  What she said didn’t sound crazy at all. Part of me could even understand it. “How do you know when you’re really in love with someone?”

  Rosa opened her mouth, but she didn’t speak as she pulled her hand away.

  “How did you know you were truly in love with Carl? How does anyone really know?” I shook my head. “I don’t think you can...but I know how I feel right now. Maybe that’ll change. I don’t know, but don’t—” I squared my shoulders. “Don’t tell me that I don’t know what I’m feeling or what to feel.”

  She sat up straight.

  “Because I know that I feel strongly about him. I know that it is love. He...he accepts me, always has, but he doesn’t expect me to stay the same, and when I fail at something in front of him, he doesn’t make me feel bad about it,” I said, trying to put words to how I felt. “He makes me feel good about myself, about him.”

  Rosa’s eyes had widened as I spoke. “Okay,” she said after a moment. “I won’t tell you how you feel.”

  I was on a roll now, not stopping anytime soon. “I know he would do anything to make sure I was happy and safe, and trust me, he hates that I saw what happened on Saturday. Carl doesn’t have to blame him for that. He already blames himself, but it wasn’t his fault, and
I hate—absolutely hate that what happened to Jayden has somehow become something about Rider and me. That’s not right. That’s overshadowing what happened to Jayden and that’s wrong.”

  Her brows rose.

  And I wasn’t done yet. “I know you guys don’t really trust Rider and you don’t think he has a future, but what you don’t know is that he’s trying. He really is, and even if he decides he doesn’t want to go to college, that doesn’t make him less of a good person. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve your respect. He’s brilliant and he’s so freaking talented. The last thing he needs is yet another person not believing he’s worth the effort.”

  She looked away as she pressed her lips together. “I don’t think he’s not worth the effort, Mallory. I just...don’t know what to think.”

  My heart was pounding in my chest, a staccato of beats. “I just want you guys to really try—to try to see what I see in him.”

  Rosa smiled faintly. “We just want what’s best for you and sometimes in wanting that, we mess up.” Reaching over once more, she placed her hand on mine and squeezed. “We can try, honey. We will.”

  I closed my eyes. “Thank you.”

  There was a smile in her voice as she spoke again. “I don’t know if you realize this or not, Mallory, but you’re not the same girl we first brought home. That’s a good thing.” Her hand tightened on mine again. “That’s a really good thing.”

  She was right.

  I couldn’t put my finger on the exact moment that I’d become a different Mallory. Maybe because it wasn’t just one moment but more of a combination of hundreds, even thousands of them. It wasn’t just going to public school or sitting with Keira at lunch. It wasn’t the conscious decision to make myself uncomfortable by taking speech class. It wasn’t just finally opening up about my past to Ainsley. It wasn’t just the day I stood in the hall and looked past the meanness in Paige’s words to the razor-sharp truth beneath. It wasn’t just what happened to Jayden and seeing life snatched away.

  And it wasn’t just reconnecting with Rider, or falling in love with him.

  It was everything.

  It was making the decision to do things that frightened me. It was finding the courage that third day of school to walk up to Keira’s table. It was giving a speech during lunch, and then another, even if I only had an audience of one. It was failing at Peter’s party, but realizing that that was okay. It was accepting that my past would always be a part of me and a part of those who were close to me. It was finding something I was passionate about, something that made me happy. It was realizing that I didn’t owe Carl and Rosa my life. That my love for them was enough. That I didn’t have to become a carbon copy of their daughter. And knowing Jayden had changed me in ways I knew I would still be trying to figure out a lifetime from now. It was finding Rider again, and allowing myself to fall in love with him.

  And it was knowing that I could still be...still be afraid of everything, but not letting that fear stop me from living.

  The realization wasn’t due to some kind of earth-stopping epiphany. It was subtle and slow, a combination of a thousand moments rolled into one, but as I sat at the kitchen table with Rosa, I knew it was true.

  I’d changed.

  * * *

  Keira stared at her untouched plate. “I still can’t believe it,” she was saying. The table was quiet. “He was just here, you know? Last week he walked into this cafeteria and he asked me out on a date.”

  “While he stole my fries off my plate,” Jo added. “And then offered to take me out on a date.”

  “He was always doing stuff like that.” Keira let out a choked laugh. “It just sucks. There’re no other words for it.”

  That much was true.

  “I heard that the police picked Braden up yesterday afternoon,” Anna said, keeping her voice low. “I didn’t know Braden well, but he’s, like, what? Eighteen? How can you kill someone when you’re eighteen? That’s just insane.”

  “How can you be killed when you’re fifteen?” murmured Jo.

  Keira and the girls didn’t know that Rider and I had been there when Jayden was killed. Surprisingly, that wasn’t something that had ended up getting out, and it wasn’t something I was really willing to share beyond Ainsley.

  It was strange seeing the lives that Jayden affected, knowing that he probably hadn’t even realized how much he impacted others. And then there was the flip side; the people who knew only that some kid had died but who couldn’t place his face. It wasn’t that they didn’t acknowledge the loss. It just didn’t affect their lives. Today was just an average Tuesday to them. Wednesday would be no different. On Saturday they wouldn’t be going to the funeral of a fifteen-year-old. In their minds, they still had forever.

  But we knew better.

  Forever was something we all took for granted, but the problem with forever was that it really didn’t exist.

  Jayden hadn’t believed his days were numbered. He’d made plans, had other goals, and he’d probably believed he had forever. Ainsley had assumed, rightfully so, that she would always have her vision. She wouldn’t have that, something most of us took for granted, for forever. Then there was me. I’d thought I’d be stuck the way I was for forever, always scared, always needing someone to speak up for me. I’d learned to cope with my fears, found my voice, and realized that Carl and Rosa would love me even if I wasn’t perfect.

  Forever wasn’t real.

  And I guessed, for me, that I was lucky it wasn’t. But for others, I wished it was real, that they had forever.

  Taking my seat in the back of speech that afternoon, I found myself staring at Hector’s empty chair. When would he come back? I couldn’t even imagine what he must be going through.

  When Rider and I had been separated it had felt like he’d died. Those immediate months afterward had been lonely and never-ending, but I knew that Rider was still alive. My own pain and loss had been nothing like this.

  Surprise flickered through me when I saw Rider walk into class. He and I had texted last night, and he’d said he’d be in class today, but I really didn’t think he’d show when I knew he wanted to be there for Hector.

  Rider still hadn’t shaved and he was wearing the same clothes as yesterday. The dread from yesterday, when I’d dropped him off at Hector’s aunt’s place, resurfaced. Rider looked wrecked.

  “Hey,” I said as he sat next to me. The old notebook hit the desk. “Are you... God, it’s such a stupid question, but are you okay?”

  He nodded slowly as he glanced over at me. “Yeah, just tired.”

  But it was more than that.

  “Can we get together after school?” he asked as the bell rang. “For a bit?”

  “Yes. Of course,” I said, smiling even though it wasn’t real.

  The dread I felt grew throughout class, and I only distantly listened to the upcoming speech schedule Mr. Santos laid out. I would have to give mine during lunch next Tuesday. Rider would do his on Wednesday.

  I still hadn’t finished my speech.

  But I wasn’t really focused on the example speeches Mr. Santos was giving. I was too busy noticing the fact that Rider didn’t look me in the eye. Not when he sat down. Not when he looked over at me and not once during the class.

  When the bell finally rang, I jumped in my seat, startled. I ordered myself to chill out as I packed up my bag. Rider waited at my desk, his gaze fixed on the front of the room.

  “You ready?” he asked, his voice oddly flat.

  My stomach twisted as I nodded, and I only managed a half-hearted wave to Keira on the way out. We didn’t speak until we were outside, walking side by side under the overcast skies.

  “Rosa and Carl won’t be home for a while,” I said, twisting my fingers around my keys. “You want to go hang out there?”

  His brows furrowed and for a moment I thought he was going to say no. “Yeah, that’s cool.”

  We didn’t talk on the drive and my nerves were stretched thin by the time we
headed inside. I dropped my bag by the steps. “Um, do you want anything to drink?” I asked, walking toward the living room.

  “Nah.” He followed slowly, stopping by the china cabinet to check out the soap carvings. “I’m good.”

  I dropped my keys on the island and went to the fridge, grabbing myself a Coke. A tremor coursed through my arms as I headed back to the living room. I sat on the couch and started to reach for the remote. “We could watch a movie or—”

  “Actually, I want to talk to you.”

  “Oh.” I toyed with the tab of my soda. “Okay.”

  He walked around the coffee table and sat on the couch—on the third cushion, putting an entire cushion between us. My fingers stilled on the tab. “I don’t know how to say this,” he said,