Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
You’re struggling with a certain problem?
Big time.
Mind if I call?
Sure!
I answered on the first ring, hoping it didn’t wake Star.
“How about we work it through together?”
“Would this be considered special treatment?” I asked, tongue in cheek.
“Nah, the professor never specified assisting outside the classroom. I’d probably help whoever asked.”
“So you’d make a late-night phone call like this to another student?”
“Why do you sort of sound jealous?”
“I do not!” I was lying through my teeth. “I was only clarifying. Your help would be awesome, thank you.”
So he stayed on the phone with me while I worked through the problem. I nearly whooped out loud when I got it right, only to realize I had five more to get through.
We worked the next problem together too, but it was getting late.
“Thanks for all your help.” I yawned. “But I’m gonna call it a night and start fresh in the morning.”
“I can totally help you in person too. Maybe while grabbing lunch when we’re both free or in my dorm room.”
“Your dorm room, huh?” I teased. But my heart thumped crazily as I recalled our locker-room kiss. Being with him alone was a bad idea.
“Only because it would be more private and we wouldn’t be scrutinized.”
“What about your roommate?”
“What about him? I’d just let him know I was tutoring you.”
“He wouldn’t get the wrong idea? Isn’t that part of your big fear?”
“I actually told Spencer…about us. Before Parents’ Day because I was feeling nervous and he asked, so I decided it would be okay to confide in him.”
My voice felt unsteady when I said, “What exactly did you tell him?”
Was that the reason I’d caught Spencer staring at me a few times?
“Not about our kiss. About the cancer.”
“Oh, okay.” Fuck, guess I was a bit relieved. Even though I didn’t hide my sexuality, no way did I want extra analysis from his friends about it. “And?”
“He was shocked and then proved my dad’s point by asking me if I was healthy enough to play football.”
“Ouch.” I never really considered that reality before. No one had ever asked me those questions. Okay, I take that back. Maybe once or twice. “I suppose there was some truth to your father’s fears even if we’ve evolved as a society.”
“Right. And people generally mean well but sometimes can say all the wrong things.”
“True. The feedback I normally get about being in remission is how strong and brave I am.” I’d admit it made me feel guilty hearing it, like those who’d lost their battles weren’t. Obviously, that wasn’t true at all. But most people didn’t know what to say to someone who’d just gone through an ordeal.
“I got a fair amount of that sentiment too, especially after I returned to school. It was overwhelming, and maybe my parents noticed that because they sat me down for a talk when I was deciding where to attend high school and play football. Dad said I should get a fresh start, and that was the end of the discussion. When he makes up his mind, he can be pretty bullheaded.”
“I can’t help feeling I’m missing something.”
I heard a quick inhale before he said, “My dad has epilepsy. It started when he was a kid, and it took a while to get it under control.”
“Really?” I tried to picture his arrogant father being the least bit vulnerable. You’d think it would’ve helped him empathize with his son. “So what was his experience like?”
“He doesn’t talk about it often, but he said he used to have so many seizures people treated him like he was fragile.”
“Bummer. And it’s absolutely the opposite.”
“Right? I mean, the kids probably didn’t understand what epilepsy was, and the seizures must’ve looked scary to them, especially if they didn’t know how to react.”
“Yeah, suppose so. But the teachers could’ve helped with that, right? I mean, my school held a seminar where a nurse explained about different types of cancer. By the time I returned to classes, the kids were pretty cool and kind.”
“That’s amazing.” I could hear the frown in his voice. “I didn’t have the same experience, and neither did my dad. At the start of high school, he made it clear that my medical history should be on a need-to-know basis and only for adults.”
I felt bad for Mr. Albrecht, but that was quite a reach, wasn’t it?
“It made me feel like having cancer was a dirty secret. My high school experience, on the other hand, was refreshing. The coaches knew my medical history but never made me feel different. It did feel like a new start, which only strengthened my parents’ convictions.”
“That makes sense, but it still doesn’t mean you’d have had the same experience as your dad. Are you sure this isn’t more about him and his fears than it is about you?”
“I mean, obviously. I know my parents love me, but they’ve always been ultra-focused on their careers and our family’s reputation, and I fucking hate that shit.” His laugh was hollow. “And okay, I know what you’re gonna say—”