No Bad Days (Fisher Brothers 1)

I had no idea where I’d be going to school next year, but I knew for certain that it wouldn’t be at State. And that meant leaving everything and everyone I loved behind for the sake of my future and my dreams.

I didn’t know if I could do it, but I knew that I had to.

Weak

Nick

When Jess said we needed to talk, my stomach rolled and my shoulders instantly tightened. I had no idea what the news could be, but my instincts told me it couldn’t be good. She had never “needed to talk” before. Heading over to her apartment for dinner, when I could barely stomach the thought of even eating, I carried half a dozen cupcakes from her favorite bakery on the slim chance that she might tell me something worth celebrating.

I realized that it was definitely not a cupcake-worthy moment as soon as I walked through the front door and caught sight of her face. She looked like she’d been crying, and I fucking hated it, couldn’t stand the thought.

“What is it, baby?” I tossed the box on the counter, my concern only for the girl in front of me and not the cakes that had most likely just toppled over inside the box. I stepped close to her and traced the tearstains on her cheek with my thumb.

“Remember that day in the football stadium when you said they were canceling my major?”

I thought back to that afternoon. It seemed like a hundred years ago. I knew then that I had been right, but I had convinced her otherwise in an attempt to calm her fears. I’d all but forgotten about that conversation until this moment. Somehow in the midst of falling for Jess, I’d convinced myself that I had been wrong too.

“Yeah, I remember.” My throat tightened.

“Well, you were right.”

She shoved a piece of paper at me and I took it out of her shaking hands, the knots in my stomach twisting tighter with each word that I rea

d.

“What does this mean?”

I hoped it only meant she’d switch majors and stay at State, but I knew better than that. Hell, I knew Jess better than that. She would never stay at a school that couldn’t help her reach her career goals. I wouldn’t either, if I were her.

“I have to . . . I have to transfer to another school.” She stumbled on the words, clearly holding something back from me.

I struggled to swallow as I forced myself to calm down. Transferring wasn’t necessarily a deal breaker. There were tons of other colleges in the area.

“Which school? You’ll still be close, right?”

Surely she’d still be within a short driving distance after I graduated. Imagining Jess leaving my life wasn’t something I was prepared for. And I sure as shit wasn’t ready for the next six words that came out of her mouth.

She shifted her weight, looking past me before meeting my gaze and sadly shaking her head. “It’s up north. In Northern California,” she admitted as another tear slid down her cheek. Jess understood the gravity that her moving held for us as well as I did.

I took an involuntary step back and reached behind me, my hand searching for something for balance.

Ask her to stay. Beg her to stay. Make her promises. Give her money. Buy the fucking school. Do anything to make sure this girl doesn’t leave your life.

“That’s too far, Jess.” Nowhere is too far, I thought, but refused to say the words out loud.

“I know, but it’s the only school left in the entire state that has a student-run television station. Other schools have it, but they’re run by other people. There aren’t even students in some of the stations, can you believe that? What kind of college has a program with no college students involved?”

Her voice rose with her frustration as my mind still tried to process the fact that she was leaving me. Leaving us. When she continued, I swore I felt my heart crack.

“And this school has had the number-one television and radio stations in the nation two years in a row. In the nation, Nick! I have to go there. I have to. They’re the best,” she said, the passion for her future pouring out of her with every syllable.

On a gut level, I completely understood where she was coming from and couldn’t blame her a bit. But my heart ached with every breath I took as I tried to hold myself together.

Not feeling steady on my feet, I pulled out a chair at her kitchen table and sat down. I didn’t want her to go. Hell, it was the last thing on earth I wanted, but I could never tell her that. Two seconds ago I was about to drop to my knees and beg her to stay, but I could never ask her that now. Not for me. Not for us. I’d never forgive myself if she compromised her dreams or her future for me. I wasn’t worth that.

“Say something,” she begged before sitting across from me.

“I get why you want to go there,” I said with as little emotion as I could.