Chapter 48 Chapter Forty Eight
Jace sat in the back seat of his mother's BMW like an angry Uber passenger, arms crossed, glaring at the back of Noah's head.
Noah had claimed shotgun, naturally sitting next to his mother in front.
And now he was chatting away like they were old friends catching up over brunch.
"...and the hospital coordinator said I had the most volunteer hours of any student in the program,"
"That's wonderful, Noah." Jace's mom's voice was full of real softness and affection. "Your mother would be so proud of you."
There was a brief pause as Noah's voice softened. "Yeah. I think she would be."
"How long has it been now? Five years?"
"Six in February." Noah looked out the window. "Cancer's a bitch. Sorry... I mean, cancer's terrible."
"No, you're right. It is a bitch." His mom reached over and squeezed his shoulder briefly before returning her hand to the wheel.
"Your father told me how hard you worked to keep your grades up even while she was sick. That takes real strength of character."
"I had to. She made me promise." Noah laughed quietly. "She said if I let my GPA drop below a 4.0, she'd come back and haunt me."
Jace's mom smiled. "Sounds like something she'd say."
"Oh, for fuck's sake," Jace muttered from the backseat.
His mother's eyes flicked to the rearview mirror. "Language, Jace."
"Are we seriously doing this whole sob story routine?" He demanded.
"Jace!" His mother's voice sharpened. "That's enough."
Noah didn't turn around, but Jace could practically feel the smirk radiating off him.
"It's fine, Aunt Claire," Noah said smoothly. "Jace has every right to be upset. I'm kind of invading his space."
"You're not invading anything," his mom said firmly. "You're our family."
Jace wanted to scream, or punch something, or open the car door and roll out onto the highway.
This wasn't fair. This wasn't how he was supposed to be spending the night after winning that game; now, Bish had ruined his plans.
"So," his mom said, breezily changing the subject. "Your father mentioned you're looking at universities. Any front-runners?"
"Stanford's my first choice. I got a likely letter last month."
"A likely letter? Noah, that's incredible!"
"It's not official yet, but yeah, it's looking good." Noah stretched slightly in his seat. "I'm also considering Princeton and Yale as backups."
"Backups," his mom repeated with a laugh. "Listen to you. When I was your age, those were real schools."
"Different times, I guess."
Jace stared daggers into the back of Noah's skull.
Stanford. Princeton. Yale.
Of course. Because God forbid Noah be anything less than perfect.
Meanwhile, Jace was one fuck-up away from getting his college fund threatened as a "desperate measure".
One more argument with his father from being cut off entirely, his car and allowance taken away from him.
He could handle a lot of things. He could handle his parents' criticism, his teammates' expectations, even Allison's psychotic bullshit.
But being broke? Having his financial privileges stripped away? That was a different kind of humiliation, one that he could not handle.
It would destroy everything he'd built, his status, everything he was supposed to be. He would have to find a job... the horror!
"I'm one bad game away from losing my car," Jace said flatly. "But sure, let's talk about Noah's fucking likely letter from Stanford."
"Jace, that's not fair.."
"Isn't it? You just made it clear though, didn't you? One more screw-up and I'm done. No car, no allowance, nothing. Maybe you should just adopt Noah instead since he's so goddamn perfect."
His mother's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "We'll discuss this later."
"Why? So you can tell me again how I'm a disappointment compared to golden boy over here?"
Noah finally turned around, his expression flat and unreadable. "Look, man, I didn't ask for any of this."
"Didn't you?" Jace leaned forward. "This whole thing feels pretty fucking convenient for you."
"Jace, enough!" His mother called out loudly, putting that conversation to an end.
They drove the rest of the way in tense silence.
When they pulled up to the house, the BMW's headlights swept across the front entrance as his mom parked in the circular driveway.
Noah was out of the car first, already grabbing his duffel bag from the trunk with efficient, practised movements while Jace took his time, slamming the car door harder than necessary.
"Real mature," Noah muttered.
"Fuck off."
When they walked into the house, Jace stopped short.
Lena was in the living room, sprawled on the couch with two kids practically draped across her.
Martin was on her left, his head resting against her shoulder, eyes heavy with sleep.
On her right was Rosie, he recognised Martin's hyperactive best friend curled up like a cat with Lena's hand gently patting her wild red curls.
The TV was playing some nature documentary on mute, with colourful fish swimming across the screen.
Lena looked up when they entered. Her eyes met Jace's for a split second before darting away anxiously, as though she was scared to look at him too long.
That small gesture hit harder than Jace harder than it should have.
Jace looked away from Lena for a second as Noah's eyes locked with his.
He'd noticed that small interaction between Jace and Lena, and something about it caused his smile to widen.
"Lena!" Mrs Dawson swept into the room, all warmth and energy. "Oh sweetheart, thank you so much for watching them. You're an absolute angel."
Lena gently shifted the kids' heads off her body, Martin mumbling in protest, Rosie barely even stirring and stood up. She smoothed down her shirt nervously.
"It's nothing, really..." Lena started to say, but Mrs Dawson was already pulling her into a quick hug.
"Don't be modest. You're wonderful with them. I'm adding a bonus to your next paycheck for all the extra work."
"Mrs Dawson, you don't have to—"
"Nonsense, I insist." She stepped back, beaming. "Now, let me introduce you to someone. This is Noah, my nephew. He'll be staying with us for a while."