Chapter 41
Nick’s parents were still up and watching television in the living room when he returned from Cat’s. “Did you finish your report?” his father asked, muting the sound.
“We’re mostly done, but I’ve got other homework to finish.” He turned toward the stairs.
“You’re putting in a lot of extra hours with this report,” his father called. “I can’t wait to read it when you’re done.”
He turned back toward them and shrugged. “I hope it gets us an A.”
“Grandma would like you to stop by,” his mom mentioned.
He felt pulled in so many directions. Pleasing Cat. Getting Emily back. World History. Football. Grades. His head felt as if it would swirl away.
“I’ll swing by after practice tomorrow night,” he promised, his foot hesitating on the first step.
“She’ll like that.” His mom smiled.
“Good night, son.” His dad waved, taking the remote and un muting the TV.
He took the steps two at a time and went into the bathroom to examine the mark on his neck. He looked closely, and he figured he could pass it off as a scratch. It was faint, and maybe no one would notice. He’d deal with it in the morning and maybe dab on some of his mother’s makeup. Reluctantly with a yawn, he opened his calculus book and began his homework.
****
The next morning, he went directly to Emily’s locker. “I want to apologize for anything I did that made you think I wanted us to break up.”
She studied him for sincerity, looking at him from underneath her bangs. “I don’t want you to be friends with her.” Emily’s demeanor suddenly changed, her eyes angry, asking, “What is that?” She pointed to his neck.
“What?” He reached for his neck. Emily knew. His hand remained frozen in midair. The concealer must have rubbed off. “Nothing, just a scratch.”
“Is that from her?”
Emily deserved an answer, but he took the cowardly way out and remained quiet.
Emily shot him a scathing look. “We’re over!” She slammed her locker shut. “So over!” she shouted before turning on the balls of her feet and running toward her group of friends huddled down the hallway.
Nick stood rooted. Students flowed around him like water in a rushing stream. Some shot him looks of concern, several smirks, and a burst of laughter from Bryan. Only Gary stopped and clasped him on the shoulders.
Gary whistled. “That was rough!”
“You’re telling me!” Nick rubbed at his neck; it seemed to burn under his touch. “I guess I blew it.”
“Give her time,” Gary said.
Nick wasn’t sure time would heal these wounds, but he didn’t know if he could ever go back to the status quo. The façade in his perfect life had further split apart.
In World History, Cat frowned when he came in, her eyes following him as he entered the room and sat by her side. They remained quiet. Only their eyes locked together. Nick thought his future was reflected in her eyes—a different outcome than he had imagined, but he was powerless to stop the forces pushing him forward.
****
After football practice and a text from his mother prompting him to visit the rehab hospital, Nick drove the thirty minutes to visit his grandmother. Every time he saw her, she looked better, and her face didn’t sag as much, and she was able to get in and out of bed on her own.
“Nick! So glad to see you!” She was always thrilled when he visited.
He leaned over the bed and kissed her cheek. She smelled the same: lilac powder and a hint of peppermint.
“What’s that on your neck?” she demanded.
“I scratched myself.”
“Is that—” She paused. “—a hickey? Did Emily give you a hickey?”
“It’s not a hickey, Grandma. I scratched myself.”
“Sure.” She continued to look at him and cleared her throat. “Have you read all of your grandfather’s journal yet?”
“Not all of it, but what I’ve read…Believe me, I’m glad he fought that war.”
“You speak as if you know?” She tilted her head to study him.
He dreamed of rounding up innocent people to be imprisoned. “Well…” he said slowly. “We’re studying it in class, and it seems real.” He let out his breath when Grandma appeared to accept his explanation, although her eyes remained skeptical. What else could she think?