Then Wednesdays, too.
I move up from hooking up with only blondes to pretty much any girl who is willing. I get tanked on weekdays. I give zero fucks about anything else. Just getting wasted and hooking up. “Booze and broads,” Preston says. He loves hearing about my downward spiral. I think it’s probably the only reason we still talk. It makes my stomach churn, but I ignore it.
Then I get a letter informing me that I’m on academic probation. The same day I turn up to soccer practice blitzed off my ass and the coach kicks me off the team.
My parents are fucking pissed, I’m embarrassed as hell, and Preston thinks it’s the funniest fucking thing ever. Ivy would be so disappointed in me.
So I go out and get tanked again.
* * *
First Semester of Sophomore Year
at Butler University
Samantha and I are leaving the student union, coffees in hand, and we’re chatting about our geology professor. It’s an elective we both have, and though we’re in different sections, the material and assignments are the same.
I met Samantha over the summer, but we’ve only been dating for about a month. After my parents threatened me and forced me to pull my head out of my ass, I took a summer semester to make up the credits I lost when I was being a drunken dick bag. If they hadn’t stepped in, I most definitely would have failed out. Almost did.
As Samantha and I head down the steps toward the quad, a blonde girl with a messenger tote and Chucks catches my eye, and I about trip over myself. Without thinking, I walk toward the stranger.
It can’t be.
It probably isn’t.
But I need to know, just in case.
She’s standing with one foot crossed over the other while reading a flier taped to a cement light post. I assess her as I walk. Her hair is in a messy bun, and she’s wearing a yellow sundress and black Chucks. A girl with black hair with pink streaks standing next to her says something to make her laugh, and when she turns to look at her friend, I catch a glimpse of a dimple.
When I’m standing about five feet behind her, I hear her voice, and it knocks the breath right out of my lungs. I reach up and clutch my chest, trying to rub away the ache. I might be having a heart attack.
“Ivy?” I don’t know how I manage anything more than a whisper.
She tenses, and then slowly turns to face me. Her familiar blue eyes are cautious, a tentative smile plays on her full, pink lips. I want her to smile bigger. I crave another sighting of that dimple. I didn’t realize how much I missed it until right now.
“Kelley,” she says back.
And for the first time in fifteen months, I breathe.
19
An hour after Kelley drops me off, Mom brings home burgers from the diner and we fill her in on the meeting we had with that jerkface Kyle, his parents, and Principal Grey. She apologized repeatedly for not being there; she was swamped at the diner and never even got the phone call.
She’s so, so, so sorry, and I’m just...tired.
I don’t know how I’m going to go away for law school and still be here for Jacob. I’m feeling guilty for wanting to leave, but I’m certain if I don’t do it now, I never will. And aren’t I too young to feel this exhausted?
“Ivy,” Mom calls from the kitchen after Jacob has gone to bed. “Can I talk to you?”
“Yeah?” I lean against the fridge and watch as she washes the dishes. She still hasn’t changed out of her diner uniform. She shuts off the tap and turns to me.
“I wanted to thank you for bein’ there today when I couldn’t.”
“It’s not a problem,” I brush off. It’s not a problem. It’s never been. And it wouldn’t matter if it was.
“It is a problem. You’ve shouldered too much here for too long, and I’ve leaned on you more than a mama should.”
“Mom, it’s okay. You did what you had to do.”