Falling for You

“I’m so sorry. My mother is…”

Miranda holds up her hand. “It’s okay. It’s part of the reason I love being a freshman counselor.”

“Oh. Okay.” I’m sure Miranda is assuming my mom is calling because she misses me. This year is hardly different than any other, except instead of me waiting at home for my parents to grace me with my fifteen minutes of attention, I’m in Florida living my life. What’s crazy is I’ve talked to my mother more the last seven months than I have in my whole life.

No… Mom isn’t calling me and Miranda to check on me. She’s snooping, looking for something to report back to Ashley’s father. He still has hope that our families will align and create a power team no one can mess with. They can align all they want, but it won’t be through me.

“You’ve exceeded my expectations this semester.” Miranda turns her monitor so I can see the screen. I ended with all As, a ninety-seven percent and a ninety-nine percent to be exact.

I smile, letting out the breath I was holding and relax in my seat. There’s no room for arguing that I can’t stay another semester. I took my C-average self and kicked ass. “Thank you.”

“I was thinking we could up your workload to three classes.” She slides a paper across the desk with my projected classes highlighted. “I know about your arrangement with your parents, but given how you excelled this semester, I don’t see why you can’t handle three.”

I read over the list. Biology-1, lab, and geometry. It all looks great, except for the lab option. That would require me to drive back up here, and there’s the pesky fact that all of these classes are face to face. “I was thinking about trying some online classes this semester.”

Miranda frowns and folds her hands over her lap. “Distance learning is rough. You have to be motivated because there’s no one there to guide you. It’s easy to fall behind. Are you sure you want to go this route?”

I slide the paper across the desk. “I can handle it.”

Miranda’s lips pull tight, but she nods. She may be my advisor, but that’s all she can do. Give me advice. However, I know what’s best for me. Cutting hours of driving that could be used for studying out of my life makes sense. Not devoting all of my free time to a crappy paying job also makes sense. Josh and I haven’t talked about how we would handle bills, but we can figure that out once I get a job. Plus, my parents will still be sending me my stipend. I doubt Josh will make me pay eight-hundred dollars a month in rent. “I’m sure.”

“Well.” Miranda turns back to her computer and taps at the keyboard again. “I’m putting it out there that I don’t recommend this option for you, but we can switch the core classes to virtual learning. You’ll still have to come in for the lab though.”

“That’s perfect.”

My phone rings for the tenth time today. I park the Gator at the sliding glass door and stare at the screen, unsure if I should answer it or not. It’s probably Amanda, blowing me up for something or another. That girl has called and texted me nonstop.

Her belly hurts.

Her back hurts.

Her head hurts.

Her feet are swelling.

I’ve given up being nice. It does no good to tell her that I don’t care. She still calls. Still texts. So I’ve resorted to ignoring her. I hit the side button on my phone, darkening the screen. It rings again, seconds after being ignored. Whoever this is, they are on a mission.

“Hello?”

“Oh! You answered.” Papers shuffle in the background as the woman clears her throat. “Are you Joshua Thomas?”

“Who’s asking?”

“My name is Clara and I’m calling from St. Mary’s Hospital. How are you today, sir?”

I groan and drop my head against the headrest. This is baby related. Of course it is. “How can I help you?”

“I’m calling to discuss Bryson McGee.”

I take my hat off and toss it on the dash. This is low. Having the hospital call me. I know I need to get the paternity test out of the way but come on. “Listen, Miss—”

The woman blurts her next sentence in one breath, simultaneously stealing the air from my lungs. “Amanda McGee has passed during childbirth.”

If I was standing, I’d fall to my knees. I don’t like the girl, but I didn’t hate her. And I’d never wish something like this to happen. I run my hand through my hair and try to figure out what happens next.

“She’s been calling me,” I blurt, words and reality not connecting. “She can’t be dead.”

“It was probably her family. You are listed on the forms from her doctor as the father. I need you to come in and sign some papers.”