“We can’t allow that to happen,” I whisper as panic rises in my throat like bile.
Austin flicks his gaze to me. “There might be another way, but I don’t want to leave you here alone.”
Oh God.
My heart clenches under my breast as I wait for him to elaborate.
“I could move back to Chicago for the year and stay with Max.”
Max is Austin’s best friend. They’ve been tight since the third grade. Not only is his father the head football coach at our old high school, he’s the history department chair. If anyone can pull strings and legitimize Austin’s residency, it would be Max’s father. He was brokenhearted to see Austin leave and had jokingly suggested my brother stay with them for senior year.
When I remain silent, too stunned to say anything, my brother continues. “I’ve already texted Max.”
No!
It feels like I’m being suffocated from the inside out. Any moment I’ll start clawing at my neck. Selfish as it might sound, I don’t want Austin to leave. The most we’ve ever been apart is a couple weeks in the summer when he attends football camp. I know it’s unlikely that we’ll get accepted at the same college and I’ve been preparing myself for the inevitability, but I’m nowhere near ready to be separated from him now. The flip-side is that I can’t imagine football being taken away from him either. It’s Austin’s everything. His entire reason for being. What would he do without it?
“There has to be another way,” I croak.
Somberness fills his expression. I’ve never seen him look so beaten down before. “Well, if you find another solution, let me know because this is the only alternative I’ve been able to come up with.”
My teeth sink into my lower lip as I blink away the tears.
There has to be something that can be done.
Something I can do.
I just have to figure out what it is.
Chapter Nineteen
I stare at the physics book splayed open on my bed as the sentence swims before my eyes. I’ve read over the same paragraph at least five times and I still couldn’t tell you what it was about. There’s a quiz tomorrow.
A quiz I’m going to fail.
Frustrated with myself and the circumstances, I slam the book shut and hop off the bed. A burst of nervous energy explodes in me and I pace in front of the window. All I can think about is Austin. He wants me to stand back and let him handle his own problems, but how can I do that when there is so much at risk?
I don’t want him to move to Chicago and leave me. I’m barely hanging on as it is. Without him…
A shudder slides through me.
Our old school doesn’t start until the Tuesday after Labor Day. Max’s father jumped at the chance to have Austin come back and play for his old team. My parents spent at least half an hour on the phone with him, hashing out logistics. It’s almost frightening how Austin mentioned the idea a couple of hours ago and it’s already gained so much traction. The only thing stopping my brother from packing his bags and leaving tomorrow is the decision from the board about his future at Hawthorne. If they allow him to continue with the team, then he’ll stay here for his senior year. If he’s forced to quit, then Austin will probably move to Chicago this weekend, so he has time to register, get settled, and start practicing with his old team. The thought of that happening makes me sick to my stomach.
Tension and fear swirl through me as I swing toward the window and push the heavy drapery aside before peering into the darkness. The stars are out in full force tonight.
I’ve spent the last five hours trying to come up with a solution to the problem we find ourselves in, but I keep drawing blanks. The only viable option is that Austin should move back to Chicago. Some of my best thinking is done while lying outside and staring up at the stars. If anything can get my neurons firing, it’s that.
Otherwise I’ll lose my brother.
I grab the afghan from the chair in the corner and slip out the door onto the small patio off my room. There are definitely advantages to having a private entrance to the house and sneaking out for a breath of fresh air is one of them.
With bare feet, I skirt around the edge of the pool, heading to the far corner of the yard where I’ve found the perfect spot for stargazing. The little pinpricks of light are so much brighter than the ones in Chicago that it’s almost like I’m looking at an entirely different sky. This weekend, I’m going to unpack my telescope and set it up on the balcony.
A whapping noise breaks the silence of the night and my footsteps falter as I stop and listen, trying to figure out what the sound is and where it’s coming from.