Page 72 of The Lucky One
I took it from him and settled into the driver’s seat. “Yes, thanks.”
Paul slid into the passenger seat as I flipped through the pages to find a few more free hours. “Kiki, you shouldn’t stress so much,” he said. “It’s not healthy to get this upset about a B+.”
“You think I don’t know that?” I eyed the upcoming days in my schedule. “But a B+ isn’t what will get me into Yale.”
Paul reached for my hand. “I think Yale will be fine with one B+,” he said gently.
“You don’t get it!” I said, a tear escaping my eye. “For you, a slipup doesn’t matter. But for me, it could change my entire future! I’ve been working toward this for years, not a few weeks.”
“I know. I didn’t want to compare—”
“It’s not your fault, Paul. It’s mine. I agreed to be a part of it. But this...” I reached into my backpack and pulled out the test. “This is something I can’t ignore. I can’t fail so close to the finish line. So please, if I mean even the slightest something to you, then leave me alone so I don’t mess up my entire future.”
His expression fell to pure astonishment. “Kiki, please, I can help you,” he said, taking the test out of my hands.
I shook my head. “No. You’re a great guy, but I need to focus on myself this time. I need to choose me.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked, startled.
I wiped away my tears with my sleeve. “It means I can’t waste my time wondering if you’ll ever get over her.”
I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. I had worked way too hard to mess it all up now. I couldn’t risk getting myself hurt again. And he would. Not on purpose, but he would. Otherwise he would’ve texted this weekend. He wouldn’t have pretended like everything was normal.
The test dropped back in my lap. I flinched at the sound of the car door snapping shut.
The sobs came.
I was allowed to cry for a bit, but then I had to return to functional mode. After a few deep breaths, I flipped open the mirror, brushed my hair, wiped away the smeared mascara, tapped on lipstick. Something caught my attention in the rearview mirror: Jon, looking furious. But his intense gaze wasn’t directed at me; it was fixed on someone beside him.
I squinted through my re-settling contacts. A dark-haired man with a black eye and arms covered in tattoos—the guy from the parking lot!
He yelled at Jon, who looked like he was ready to break something. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
“Don’t get involved,” I told myself. “You need to focus on school only. Don’t get involved. Focus on school.”
I repeated my mantra about three times, and when I opened my eyes and looked over my shoulder again, they were gone.
It still took me fifteen more minutes to be brave enough to leave the car.
Pregnancy Scare
Emily
Five years ago...
“Papa?”
All the lights were off. I clutched my weekend bag really tight. I’d used the spare key hidden behind a yucky old bucket to open the door.
It had been like a whole month since I was here. I missed the last time because I got invited to this birthday party by my new friend group. It was okay, I guess. The girls laughed a lot, and even though I didn’t really think they were that funny I laughed along.
I took my bag into my room. There wasn’t much left in there anymore, just the basics. It smelled. I think the sheets hadn’t been changed in months.
After searching every room, I still couldn’t find Papa. I ran into my brother’s room, suddenly scared to be alone in this big house. Lucas had stopped coming over ages ago, and when I asked him why, he didn’t really say.
I dialed Papa’s number and pressed the phone to my cheek. “Papa?” I asked, but all I got was his stupid voicemail.
There I was, all alone in this house for the whole weekend. The perfect trip for someone who just turned twelve. I thought about calling Mama or Richard to pick me up. But they don’t really like Papa, and I didn’t want to give them more reasons to criticize him. There wasn’t much food, but I somehow managed to make pasta with applesauce.