Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 48146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 241(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 241(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
He had a point. Who wanted to hang with a bunch of parents when they could be doing literally anything else.
“Okay…” Mom clapped her hands excitedly. “Whose classroom should we visit first?”
“You mean which professors?” I asked.
“No, I mean, should we meet yours or Bruce’s first?” she replied, and I could’ve kissed her right then.
Bones looked stunned, but then he snapped out of it. “No, no, you don’t have to—”
“Yes, we do,” I said as Mom briefly squeezed my hand. “Let’s head over to the building where Bruce has two new classes in sports medicine, and then we’ll double back to the Performing Arts building.”
“Sounds like a plan,” my dad said, then led the way out of the building.
Bones still looked humbled as we arrived at his first class. When he stopped in his tracks, I turned to look at him.
“Oh, how lovely. Your parents made it after all,” Mom said, and that’s when I saw Mr. and Mrs. Lanning outside the classroom, speaking to the professor.
“Here’s Bruce,” Mr. Lanning said, lifting his hand to wave him over. “Sorry we’re late, but the traffic was awful.”
“But…” Bones blinked. “I thought you couldn’t make it.”
“We rearranged some things to be here,” Mrs. Lanning said, and her gaze swung to me. “Emil reminded us how important days like this are for students.”
“I…what?” I stood there dumbfounded, thinking back to our conversation. I’d said Bones would be thrilled about their visit.
“So glad you could make it,” Dad said, saving me.
“Us too.” Mrs. Lanning prodded Bones, who still looked shell-shocked, toward the classroom. “Anyway, we only have a couple of hours to spare.”
“We’re excited to meet your new professors,” Mr. Lanning said, patting Bones’s back. “Want to lead the way?”
“Thanks for letting him tag along,” Mrs. Lanning said to us over her shoulder.
“Of course,” Mom replied, then smiled at me. “That was a lovely surprise. Did you plant the seed?”
I shrugged. “Not on purpose.”
“Well, they came, and that’s all that matters.”
16
BONES
“Bruce is doing very well in class,” Professor Hawkins told my parents as I stared at a poster of micronutrients and their role in nutrition. “He’s engaged and has completed all the assignments thus far.”
“That’s nice to hear,” Mom replied. “We’d hoped he’d finally figure out a major.”
“Many students struggle to figure out what they want to do for the rest of their lives.” He smiled as if recalling his own college experience. “It’s a big ask and something that’s not always evident early on.”
“True. Up to this point, it’s been as clear as mud,” I said, and Professor Hawkins chuckled. I was still reeling from my parents’ change of heart—based on something Emil had said to them?
“Our oldest son was smart about his decision. He knew that entering the military with a bachelor’s degree would improve his rank and pay.”
I looked away, totally deflated that Brody had entered the conversation yet again.
“Good for him,” Professor Hawkins said. “But there is no one direct path. If Bruce continues to apply himself the way he’s been, he’ll go far.”
“Thank you, sir,” I said as we moved aside for another family entering the classroom.
I took them to each of the remaining classrooms, where Dad continued to talk about his and Brody’s experiences at Roosevelt. It was getting annoying. Maybe Brody was on their mind because of the fundraiser tomorrow, and I should be grateful they showed up at all. But it never seemed like I was their singular focus—which probably sounded like bitterness or jealousy.
Afterward, we walked around campus, ending at the football field, where Coach talked to my parents about—you guessed it—Brody and the year they won the championship.
“Next week is a big game for us. Which makes tomorrow all the more important,” Coach said, thumping my shoulder. Even though it was a bye week, we were required to get on the bus to go watch a game tomorrow. So, instead of poring over game footage, we’d be seeing our opponent in action. “If we win, we’ll be on the road to being a playoff hopeful.”
“I think we have a great chance,” I replied.
Coach was always no-nonsense, so when he said, “As long as we all keep our heads in the game,” I knew he wasn’t only referring to me, but it still rubbed me the wrong way in that moment.
I gritted my teeth as I walked my parents to the parking lot, disappointed that I’d actually been excited about this day. What a crock.
Dad looked at the time, then motioned for Mom to get in the car.
“I’m sorry we can’t stay longer,” Mom said. “We have a ton to do.” The week leading up to the event was always stressful and harried.
“It’s all right. Thanks for coming. Sorry I can’t make the fundraiser this year.”
“That’s fine. We know you honor Brody in other ways.”
I didn’t know what she meant by that, but I certainly kept his memory alive—in ways that worked for me.