Breaking Mr. Cane (Cane 2)

“Yeah, I understand,” I murmured.

She put her focus on me again. “You’ll be here for a while, sweetie. I want you to focus on that, okay? Focus on yourself. Have fun. Make new friends. Live your life and forget about what happened. By the time we see you again, I’m sure things will be better.” She cupped my cheek. “You’ve worked hard to get here, baby. Don’t let a little setback keep you from doing great things, all right? We’re the Jennings. We don’t let anything weigh us down for long.”

I struggled to smile, but put one on to satisfy her. “Okay,” I whispered.

“Okay.” She wiped her face again. “Good.” She wiped off her lap, even though nothing was there, and stood up with my hands still in hers. “Let’s finish getting you settled in and then I’ll be heading to the hotel. I could really use a shower and a nap. You sure you ate enough?”

“I’ll be good ‘til morning, but if I do get hungry, I’ll ask Henley what time the restaurants around campus close.”

There wasn’t much else for us to do when we got back to the room. Mom really wanted to meet my roommate, but she was nowhere to be found. I was eager to meet her too, only to see if we would get along.

I didn’t want a roommate like Frankie’s. Hers was a total bitch and a snitch, and since Frankie loved to have fun, I knew she was going to have a miserable first year. Thinking of Frankie made me leave a mental note to call her tomorrow and fill her in on my first day.

We couldn’t wait all night to meet one person, so eventually I was walking Mom to the parking lot.

“I’m going to get out of here, but call me if you need anything,” she said, opening the car door. “I’ll be back in the morning before I take the rental car to the airport. I’d really like to meet your roommate before I go.”

“Okay, Mom. Text me when you get checked in.”

She nodded and pressed her lips into a smile. “Make sure you call your dad, let him know you’re settled in.”

“Okay.” My heart ached a little from the mention of Dad.

I had a feeling she wanted to say more, but she didn’t want to ruin this moment—the first day jitters, anticipation, and excitement and all that. She constantly talked about how I needed to experience every single feeling and learn from it. She refused to take away from that with trivial matters.

“Love you, sweetie,” she sighed while hugging me. She released me and climbed behind the wheel, started the car up, and tossed me a wave goodbye.

Watching her leave was…strange. I wanted to cry, but I also felt this zing of liberation rush through me.

She was right before. This was my chance to start over and find myself. This was my chance to become unstoppable and to live my life, and I was going to do just that—right after giving my father a call.

Chapter Ten

KANDY

When I made it back to my room, I took my cellphone off the charger and called Dad. My heart drummed harder and faster with every ring.

I’d never been this nervous to call my Dad. Ever. My life had really, really shifted.

“Hello?” His voice was gruff.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Hey, Kandy.” I don’t know if it was just me, but he sounded relieved, like he was glad to hear from me. Did he think I wouldn’t call him? “How’s the dorm life treating you so far?”

I laughed. “Good, I guess. My RA is really nice and helpful and the pizza here is extra cheesy with not too much sauce.”

“Oh, man. Pizza? Be careful or you might get caught up in the freshman fifteen!”

I smiled. “I doubt it. We’ll be training and conditioning. I’ll have no choice but to burn it all off, but thanks for the heads up.”

He chuckled lowly. We were quiet a moment. The silence was deafening. I hated it. “Your mom left already?”

“Yeah. She’s on her way to the hotel now. She was trying to stick around to meet my roommate, but I’m sure she’s exhausted after the drive. I haven’t met my roommate yet either.”

“No? Is she around?”

“I don’t know. Her bed is all made up but I haven’t seen her since we started moving stuff in.”

“Oh. Well, I’m sure she’ll show up soon.” He cleared his throat. He only did that when he had something important to say, but was finding the right time to squeeze it into the conversation.

“What is it, Dad?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, as if he were truly clueless, but I knew something was up.

“You only do that throat-clearing thing when you have something to say. What is it?”

I hated asking. To be honest, I didn’t want to know what he had to say. I was afraid he would blast me, tell me he’d never be able to accept what had happened and move on from it.