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)
“Yeah, sure,” I muttered absently.
“Any chance one of those pretty cheerleaders is single? Maybe get yourself a nice girlfriend you can confide in and talk to.”
“I don’t want—not right now. I have too much on my plate.”
“It wouldn’t hurt your image.”
Bile crawled up the back of my throat. “Why does it sound like that’s all you and Dad care about?”
She dipped her head. “I’m sorry, you’re right. I only meant—”
“It’s okay, I know what you meant. I’ll help with the dishes, and then I need to get back to the dorm.”
Before I left, I went into my room to dig out my box of treasures from childhood, retrieved Lark’s letter, and slipped it in my pocket.
XOXO
21
LARK
It was Tuesday afternoon, and Henry had seemed glum the last couple of days. Like something was on his mind.
Are you okay? I texted him at the end of the day.
Yeah, sure. But also no. My trip home over the weekend left me in a shitty mood.
Sorry to hear that. Let me know if you need to talk.
The truth was I liked Henry, always had, and I was enjoying our newfound friendship. And not only the physical part. Plus, it seemed like he was hurting and didn’t have many people to talk to about certain topics.
I might… Will you be around later?
I’ll be staying after class to rehearse for the fall recital.
And I have football practice. Any way you can meet me afterward?
Maybe. Where?
The bell tower.
Mom was off today, so nothing was holding me back from meeting him. Then why was I second-guessing my decision? I was the one who reached out to him, but maybe it was against my better judgment. Because the more I was around him, the more I was thinking about him, and I hated that gnawing feeling in my stomach.
On the other hand, there was an ache in my chest that wouldn’t go away all day long, not until I texted Mom to tell her I would be home late. There, done.
After recital practice, I lagged behind as the locker room cleared out, nervous someone might see me as I headed toward the bell tower.
When I got there, I popped the latch like I’d seen Henry do, realizing I was the first to arrive. Instead of sitting on the cold concrete floor, I took the towel I used for dance out of my bag and laid it down. Much better. As I sat there and waited in the muggy space, I was starting to second-guess myself again. What if something had come up and he was a no-show?
Was I really waiting around in a secret place to meet a guy who wasn’t out?
As soon as I had that thought, I heard the sound of footsteps down below. For a brief moment, I considered what I’d do if it ended up being the groundskeeper or someone else who maintained this place. Or hell, other students who had the same idea as us.
I sat motionless until Henry rounded the corner and our eyes met.
“You came.” His tone was full of wonder, as if he’d had the same doubts as me.
But thinking back to our text conversation, I’d never fully committed to the idea and felt guilty about that.
“Did anyone see you?” I whispered, as if someone could hear us all the way up there.
“I don’t think so.”
It really did feel like a hidden sanctuary, and I could understand why Henry would seek it out.
“Looks like you had the same idea,” he said, pulling out a towel, likely from his own practice, and laying it on the floor beside mine.
When he sat down, I asked, “How did you ever find this place?”
He took a moment to consider the question. “Last fall, I was looking for a quiet place to hide.”
“What were you hiding from?”
“The overwhelming pressure of everything.”
“Are you referring to your parents?” He had mentioned something about their weekend visit.
“And the team and coaches and teachers. They expect a lot from me, and I…” He placed his palm against his chest. “I can’t breathe sometimes.”
There might’ve been a time when I’d poke fun at such a situation, especially since Henry seemed to have the world at his fingertips, but I knew it was more nuanced than that.
I frowned. “Must be tough.”
He laughed hollowly. “I would switch places with you in a heartbeat.”
“Seriously?” Okay, maybe he was being ridiculous. “You’d want to live in…” I nearly said a trailer park. “…in a space too small for your family and struggle to live your dream of dancing?”
He shrugged. “Is anyone putting pressure on you regarding your dreams?”
“Only myself.”
“See, there it is. Everyone who loves you just wants what’s best for you.”
“You don’t think that’s what your parents want too?”
“Okay, sure, but their outlook is flawed. They don’t want to look bad to all their society friends. If I ever embarrassed them, they would die. It’s about tradition, Henry,” he imitated his father. “Three generations of Albrechts have attended Roosevelt.”