Taking her off-guard, Cammie gripped the book with one hand and extracted it from Abby’s fingers. Even as she stood on her toes, thrashing at the air, trying to get it back, Cammie’s height proved a greater advantage as she held it out of Abby’s reach.
“Tell me what this is?” Cammie demanded.
“I can’t.” Abby glared.
“I’ll read it for myself and find out.” Cammie turned and held the book out, opening to a random passage. “What the—?”
Abby lunged toward the journal, ripping it from her grasp. “It’s an old diary I found in my grandmother’s things. It’s no big deal.”
Cammie frowned, her green eyes wary, which made Abby wonder what she read. “Well, why in the world are you leaving in the middle of class to read it? I know she just died and you two were super close. Closer than us,” she said, gesturing between them. “But you’re acting really weird.” She paused and narrowed her eyes. “It’s like there’s more going on.”
Had she always been this perceptive?
When Abby said nothing, Cammie stepped forward and placed an arm around her. “I know we’ve never been besties like Sara and Trish,” she said, referring to the other girls they hung out with at school. “Like, we’ve never been the kind of friends that share secrets and do each other’s makeup or gossip about boys, but...” Cammie bit her lip, looking unsure of herself. “I figured maybe we could be... I don’t know. Closer now. I know you need a friend, and I’m here if you need me. Whatever’s going on, you can tell me, and I can help, or at least try to. But you can’t keep pushing me away.”
Abby said nothing for a moment. Was she really that crappy of a friend?
Of course, she was. She had reserved most weekends for family, and that was great and all but maybe a little bit strange, too. There was something wrong with an eighteen-year-old girl saving some of the best years of her social life for an almost-eighty-year-old woman. But her family had always seemed to hang on so tight, and Abby had never minded. But now that GG was gone, Abby was left with a big gaping hole in her heart.
Abby tried for a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah. I’d like that,” she said, hoping she sounded genuine. She might be emotionally drained at the moment, but Cammie was right. Abby needed to let her in. She needed a close friend.
“And I have big news,” Cammie grinned, then clapped her hands. “I got into George Mason! So, we’ll be going to the same college in the fall.”
“That’s awesome.” Abby wrapped her arms around Cammie in a hug.
College.
For the first time since her grandmother got sick, she thought of college. It had consumed her thoughts prior to her diagnosis. Like any other soon-to-be-graduate, she craved independence and couldn’t wait to start a new chapter in her life. But with GG gone, everything seemed different. All her plans forgotten.
Her grandmother wouldn’t get to see Abby graduate next month. She wouldn’t be there to drop her off that first day of school. She’d share absolutely no part of Abby’s future because she was gone, and the thought of it burned her gut like acid.
Cammie’s eyes brightened, oblivious to Abby’s plight. “Does this mean you’ll go to the baseball game with me tonight? To celebrate?”
“Um, I’ll think about it.” Abby murmured, then started toward the bathroom door with Cammie by her side.
Pushing her grief aside, Abby took Cammie’s distraction to her advantage and tucked the journal behind her back, grateful it had been forgotten. She’d finish reading the entry later. The last thing she needed was to answer more questions about the journal.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Abby snapped to attention. Her head jerked forward, her gaze leaving the doodles on her notebook to focus on the blackboard at the front of the class.
“Miss Bridges, are you with us today?” Mr. Delgado asked, staring at her with razor sharp focus.
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, sorry.” Abigail cleared her throat and picked up her pen, ready to take notes on...well, whatever they were talking about.
Mr. Delgado clasped his hands in front of himself and lifted his brows, waiting, for what, she wasn’t sure. With a cursory glance to the classmates around her, she noted the stares, devoid of any clues from their blinking eyeballs as to what they were talking about.
When her eyes met Kaden’s, shock crackled in her veins. She had forgotten they shared this class. Hadn’t he mentioned it at the park?
He glanced away so fast she wondered if she imagined him watching her. Then again, half the class was staring, likely enjoying her discomfort as Mr. Delgado waited for an answer to a question she hadn’t heard.
Glancing back to the front of the class, she watched him cross his arms over his chest, his mouth flattening into a line of disapproval. “We’re waiting for your answer to number five.”
Frowning, her gaze flickered back to Kaden. The muscle in his jaw ticked. Something about his expression bothered her, but she had no time to contemplate it now.
Abigail glanced down to her blank notebook paper. Nothing but random squiggles covered her page. How had she not done a single problem while the rest of the class worked?
“Um...I didn’t get that one. I was having trouble with it.”