Conventionally Yours (True Colors 1)

I still worried he’d regret passing on the pro tour, missing out on the chance for big money, fame, and travel. But then, I worried about a lot of things more than he did. Which was okay, and part of how we balanced each other out. I was slow and cautious, and he was already floating around the deep end. I made sure we didn’t drown, and he made sure we actually got in the water and had fun.

And he did have good ideas—posing the goat and frog on everything from the red rocks of Utah to pine tree stumps in Colorado to make Professor Tuttle smile and collecting silly souvenirs for the professors and my moms from places like an old-time mine in Colorado. Notably, we did not have anything from Kansas to bring back, not even good news. We’d sped through Kansas because Conrad still wasn’t up for dealing with his family. His mom hadn’t shown much willingness to truly reconcile other than her congratulatory texts. And it wasn’t hard to see why they hurt so badly for Conrad.

We boarded the tram, which was actually little pods with flat white seats and room for three or four people each. As luck would have it, we were alone in ours.

“Nervous?” he asked me as the doors slid shut behind us.

“A little.” It was far easier to admit things to him now, to not try to hold it together all the time around him. And weirdly enough, knowing that I didn’t have to do that, didn’t have to be perfect, actually helped me be less anxious overall.

Sliding over from opposite me to right beside me instead, he took my hand and squeezed it. “Too bad there are probably security cameras…”

“We are not making out here.” I didn’t pull away, though, instead leaning in toward him, my earlier worries about PDA lessening.

“Let the security guard see us cuddling. If it keeps you from freaking out in this tiny space—” There was a waver behind Conrad’s bravado that made me cut him off with a snort.

“Me, huh? You’re not the least bit anxious yourself?”

“Okay. Maybe a little. This is a little weird, and if I think too hard about how high—”

“How about we don’t think about that,” I said sternly, as much to help me as him. Without warning, the tram shuddered to a halt. “Are we at the top?”

“Don’t think so.” Conrad worried his lower lip with his teeth.

“The tram is experiencing a momentary delay. Please stay calm,” an announcement crackled through tinny speakers.

“Easy for them to say.” Taking a shuddery breath, I tried to quiet my rising adrenaline. The tram rocked slightly, an unwelcome reminder of how far up we were, how trapped we could be. Suddenly, it seemed even smaller and more rickety.

Pressing a kiss to my temple, Conrad wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “So this would probably be a bad place to have a serious discussion about our future, right?”

“The worst,” I managed through tight lips. “How about we live through this first?”

“We have not come this far to meet our demise before we even reach the top.” His tone was rather philosophical, as if he was talking about more than just the Arch.

“I know. I just don’t want to crash.” Like him, I didn’t simply mean this ride. “I’d rather do things slowly. Cautiously. Make sure we’ve got a safety net. Plan B. The last thing I want to do is choose something that ends up being the thing that tears us apart.”

“I get you. And I don’t want that either. I want to stay together. Whatever it takes. And if that means going slowly for you, then we go slowly. Investigate your teaching certificate options. You’re going to be an amazing teacher, and I’m pretty sure the job opportunity will still be there later, and if it’s not, we’ll deal with that too. You being comfortable is a big deal to me.”

“Thanks.” His words meant more to me than I could ever properly express. “You know, there are teaching certificate programs in the city, too, I’m sure. Maybe it wouldn’t have to mean me back in Gracehaven and you alone in the city.”

“Yeah?” His smile was so cautious that it made my insides tremble with how very sweet he was, how incredibly lucky I was. The tram rocked again, but this time, I didn’t panic, the small space more than filled by good feelings as he continued, “I am going to need a roommate, one way or another. And you’ve already vetted me. Plus, you as a roommate versus a stranger means one less bed.”

“I would hope so.” I gave him a stern look before turning more thoughtful again, rolling with his idea. “One bed. Room for our mascots and our card collections. Not living with the moms. It could maybe work.”