Celebrating was the absolute last thing Corinne wanted to do. The certainty that she’d failed the NCLEX settled into her bones like an ache. She couldn’t afford to waste the $200 testing fee, especially not now that she’d started a ticking time clock on getting out of her mother’s house. But was it really any surprise? She’d barely slept since Friday night, barely eaten. All she could think about was Whitney. Exactly like your mother. And when it wasn’t Whitney’s recriminations ringing in her ears, it was Tucker and the look of utter betrayal on his face.
“I’m not much in the mood for ice cream, Mal.”
“Well, if not ice cream, how about drinks? It’s five o’clock somewhere.”
The temptation to drown all this heartache in alcohol was too great to follow through on. The only thing she hadn’t irreparably screwed up yet was her son. She couldn’t afford to crawl into a bottle. She might not crawl back out.
“I don’t feel like I have anything to celebrate.”
“Oh now, are you gonna have your panties all in a wad until you actually get the results back?”
“Probably.” Meanwhile, she needed to pick up some extra shifts. First and last months’ rent and all the utility deposits on a little place for her and Kurt wouldn’t be cheap. And she’d need another $200 to take the test again. Plus moving expenses because having failed the exam meant she wouldn’t be licensed soon enough to be considered for the job at Wilton Memorial, despite the fact that her interview was tomorrow. Not that she believed they’d seriously look at her as a contender.
Malika swung an arm around her. “Okay, you officially need to go spend some time with your man to unwind. You’re too tense.”
“That’s not an option,” Corinne managed. The tears wanted to start up again. She’d barely managed to stop sobbing long enough to take the damned test.
“Why? Is he working late?”
“He’s not mine anymore.”
Malika stopped in her tracks halfway across the parking lot. “What? What happened?” The younger woman’s eyes glinted dangerously.
“I broke up with him.”
“You did what? Why? And aren’t you two still in the competition?”
Yeah, they were. She hadn’t really given it a lot of thought at the time. Both the final performances were freestyle, so Tucker and Tyler would both be choreographing something from scratch. Unless she wanted to bail and let Mama Pearl, the ticketholders, and all the women out at the shelter down, she’d have to face him and soon. They wouldn’t win. There was simply no way they’d be able to maintain that chemistry on the floor after what she’d done. But she didn’t want to add to her list of failures.
“Did he do something?” Malika demanded.
“No.” Corinne started walking again.
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“Then why?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Tucker would ask the same question. She owed him some kind of answer, but what could she say that he’d accept?
“Corinne.” The deep male voice carried across the last few rows of cars.
Her heart leapt into her throat as a tall figure straightened from beside her Toyota. But it wasn’t Tucker. It was Brody.
She hesitated, but there was no sense in trying to avoid him. She had to face the music sometime, and if she had to start with him, so be it. “What are you doing here?”
“Wanted to talk to you.”
“You came all the way to Tupelo to talk to me?” It took a special level of pissed off to follow her ninety miles from Wishful to rip her a new one. At least if he did it here, it wouldn’t be as bad as making a scene at home where everyone could hear.
Brody nodded. “Buy you a cup of coffee?”
Corinne frowned. Why would he buy her coffee? “All right.”
He jerked his head. “My truck’s over here.”
Malika put a hand on Corinne’s arm. “You don’t have to go with him.”