I retreat to the house and from behind the closed door, watch them through the window as they walk back down the path.
“Starlee? Is that you?”
“Yes.” I walk into the living room, where Leelee’s watching the news.
“Did you have fun?”
“I really did.”
She gives me a warm smile. “Good.”
I return her smile because she’s right. It is good.
“Your mom called while you were out.”
The lightness vanishes. “Oh, what did you say?”
“That you were busy with some homework.”
“You lied?” Grandmothers aren’t supposed to lie. Or at least, I think that’s the case.
“I did. And I’d do it again. Hanging out with those boys makes you happy. Happier than I’ve seen you since you got here.”
I lean against the wall. “Should I call her?”
“Maybe in the morning. She needs to learn to let go a little bit. Give you space to breathe.”
I nod and say goodnight. My mother didn’t send me out here to breathe. She sent me to the one place that made her suffocate—to teach me that being with her isn’t so bad after all. Unfortunately, she’s wrong. About so many things, and I’m discovering exactly how much every day.
15
I’m a little worried when I wake the next morning that Jake may not be there. He’d left so abruptly the morning before but seemed fine last night. Maybe boys were temperamental?
But he’s waiting for me in the yard and I notice the glint of pleasure in his eyes when he notices I’m carrying the book to continue reading. When we pass the final business before the school he says, “I’m sorry if I seemed weird yesterday morning.”
“It’s okay. I had a feeling the other guys didn’t know about our early morning meet ups.”
“I’m not trying to keep anything from them.”
“Of course not.”
“I just…I don’t know. It’s awkward.”
Oh. Right. It’s awkward being with me. Obviously. Why would this hot, funny, athlete want to hang out with me in the mornings? Reading books of all things. He’s embarrassed by me. I blink back the sting of tears and try to breathe past the lump in my throat. I’m just glad it’s still dark.
I realize, despite my mental breakdown, he’s still talking. “…it’s not like I hid it from them. They know I’m not the best student and I know they’d help me if I asked, but it’s humiliating. I was so embarrassed at first when you saw me up there. It was the only time of day I felt like I could settle my brain and work on the summer assignments given to me by my teacher.” His elbow bumps mine. “It’s like a guardian angel dropped you into my lap—or, well—the yard next door.”
We’ve arrived at our boulder and Jake scrambles up the rock easily before reaching down to help me up. At the top we stand face-to-face, his eyes bright and hopeful, while I’m confused as hell.
“You think I’m a guardian angel?”
“Like Castiel, but prettier.”
My cheeks burn at that. I haven’t met Castiel on the show yet, but I’ve seen his autographed photo on the shelf at their house. And did he just call me pretty?
“I’ve never been able to talk to anyone about my dyslexia before. I always just felt so dumb or like I’m making an excuse.” He grimaces. “Like, I know I’m not dumb, it’s a learning disability, but after hearing it your whole life it’s hard to think about yourself differently.”
“The image sticks,” I whisper.