I Wish (13 page)

No, my problem wasn’t the money. It was the distance. I had to stay close to home until I trusted my mom to take care of Henry. “Really, Ms. Dewan, Magnolia Community College is great.”

“You’re making a big mistake, Lacey. At least apply to other places. You might reconsider next spring and—”

I interrupted. “I appreciate the concern, but don’t worry. I’m all right.” I stood up and spun around to leave.

Eli waited in the doorway. He stepped aside to let me pass.

How much had he heard? As I retreated, he slid onto the chair I’d vacated. I took off at a run, my footsteps pounding along the deserted hallways. I didn’t pay attention to where I was going, only that I got far from Ms. Dewan and her dismay over that big red C.

Somehow I made it to my locker just as my shaking legs gave way. I slid to the cold tile floor, leaned my head back against the metal door, and closed my eyes.

Why couldn’t I have a week where nothing bad happened? Where school went well and Mom was functional? Where I could look forward to community college without someone reminding me of the universities I was giving up? Where no one was upset with me over something I couldn’t fix?

If I couldn’t have a week to forget, I would take a few moments.

I had to be at The Reading Corner in twenty minutes, but until then, I would stay right here and be completely alone.

There were no rude customers, no noisy classmates, no helpless family, no disappointed teachers.

Just me and the silent hallway.

Dimming into a void.

Quiet. Dark. Still.

Perfect.

“Lacey?”

It was Eli’s voice, intruding into my haven of emptiness. “Yes?” I spoke around a lump in my throat, not ready to emerge from sweet solitude.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.” My eyelids fluttered open.

He was standing above me, his face reflecting concern. “Do you need help getting up?”

Having Eli see me at my worst was becoming a habit, yet it hadn’t stopped him from being friendly. I hesitated only briefly before accepting his hand and letting him haul me to my feet. “Thanks.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.” I lifted my backpack and headed for the front door.

“Hey, wait.” Eli fell into step beside me. “Has Henry mentioned snack day?”

“No.”

“Do you know if your mom received the email from Coach Makanui? She hasn’t responded yet.”

“My mother doesn’t have an email account.”

“Okay, then. Did you receive the message?”

“I haven’t checked email in a while.” Email required a computer, and I hadn’t had a chance to spend much free time at the library recently. None of which I would explain to Eli.

I pushed through the exit door and halted on the sidewalk in front of the school. An ice-cream truck was parked on the street, with a line of students waiting for frozen treats. Some popular kids were hanging out in the bus lane. Everybody was laughing. Having fun. I wished I could—

“Coach Makanui put Henry down for this Saturday.”

His words penetrated my daze. I stopped to frown at him. “What exactly is snack day?”

“Your family provides the after-game snack.”

Anxiety prickled my skin. “What are we supposed to bring for an after-game snack?”

“Actually, snack is the wrong word.” Rolling his eyes, he said, “If your mom came to any of the games last year, she’d know. It’s evolved into a small meal. Chips. Juice boxes or Gatorade. Fresh fruit. Homemade cookies.”

My stomach twisted into knots. “For how many people?”

“If everyone shows up, sixteen.”

A feast for sixteen hungry eight-year-old boys? I made fast calculations and got dizzy. Even if I bought bargain brands from the dollar store, it would devastate our emergency fund. “I could swing lemonade and crackers.”

“Have you seen what the other moms do? They go all out. It’s like a competition. You didn’t notice last year?”

“I did not. Soccer was something Henry did with my stepdad.” This was like some kind of bad dream, and I just wanted to wake up. “I’m sorry, but no.”

“No what?”

A faint buzz rumbled at the base of my skull, like someone was holding a mixer against it on low power. We barely had enough to eat now. I couldn’t rob our food budget to compete against some moms I didn’t know or care about. “No snack day for us.”

He frowned. “It’s not a choice.”

The buzz got louder as panic swamped me. “It has to be, because we’re not doing it.”

“You agreed to it when he joined the team.”

“
I
agreed to nothing.”

“Your mother knew. Maybe I should talk to her.”

“The answer’ll be the same.”

He jammed his hands into his pockets and stared me down. “It’s a rule, Lacey. Everyone on the team will notice.”

“Will he have to quit?”

Eli’s mouth dropped open, as if in disbelief. “What’s the problem here? Snack day isn’t hard.”

I couldn’t take any more. Eli was about to walk away thinking that I was randomly mean to my brother and that I believed my family was too good to follow the rules. As much as the thought of him knowing our secrets made me sick, the only way to make Eli understand would be to tell him the truth. It felt like my eyeballs were swimming in tears. I would not let them fall. “We don’t have it,” I whispered.

A tense silence followed.

“I don’t understand. What don’t you have?”

If I were a normal girl, I’d have been crying already. I’d shed pretty tears and make tiny, pitiful gasps. But I was too tired, too overwhelmed, too in-charge to be normal. My face might ache, but the tears wouldn’t flow. “We don’t have the money.”

“You can’t afford snacks?”

“We really can’t afford lemonade and crackers.” I lifted a shaking hand to tuck a stray lock of hair behind one ear. I’d told someone. And not just any someone. My brother’s coach. A classmate I had to face every weekday morning. A guy I thought was hot.

“Hey. I didn’t know.” His voice was kind. “What can I do?”

“Nothing.” My voice cracked on the word. I covered my face with my hands.

He muttered something, dropped a light arm across my shoulders, and pulled me to him.

It had been so long since someone had hugged me that I didn’t know how to react. I hunched stiffly, dizzy and sad and resistant.

“It’ll be okay,” he said. “I’ll think of something.”

Closing my eyes, I rested my forehead against his shirt, as if I could hide from him and the world.
I can’t believe I told him
.

He murmured, “It’s okay,” a few times.

People passed by, spoke to Eli, and moved on. And still I stood there, tuning out everything except the gentle cocoon of his arms.

The voices stopped coming by. I wiggled slightly and inched back. His hands steadied me until I regained my balance.

“Hey, Lacey. Are you going to be all right?”

“Yeah, thanks.” I studied my feet. “Do you know what time it is?”

“Almost three o’clock. Why?”

“My job. I’m late.” Unable to meet his gaze, I smiled in his general direction and then turned away, embarrassed that I’d lost control.

“Lacey?”

I looked over my shoulder.

“Are you walking?”

I nodded.

“Can I give you a ride?”

A real smile tickled at the corners of my mouth. “That would be great. I work at The Reading Corner.”

“Let’s go.”

His Mustang waited in the senior parking lot. He held the door for me as I slid in. I drank in the sight, smell, and feel of his car with a reverence that rendered me speechless.

Eli got in, slipped on his seatbelt and shades, and then cranked the engine. Even that sounded amazing.

He didn’t say anything until he’d pulled into traffic. “Henry’s a big asset to the team.”

My little brother was about the only subject that could drag my attention away from the Mustang. “Thanks.”

Eli shifted gears smoothly. “Your friend has brought him to practice a couple of times.”

“My friend? You mean Grant?”

“Yes.”

“He’s not a friend. He’s just helping us out.” Enough about Henry. I wanted to talk about this car. I would’ve already touched the dashboard if I hadn’t been afraid to. “What year is this?”

“It’s a ’64.” There was pride in his voice. “You like Mustangs?”

“From the cradle.”

Eli laughed as he pulled into a parking space on the town square. “How long is your shift?”

“Today, it’s six hours.” I slid from the seat and stood in the open door, admiring the car just a little longer.

“When do you study?”

“What?” He was still talking.
Focus
. “I’ll study after I walk home from work.”

“You walk?” His voice held a surprised edge.

I nodded. That made two guys who didn’t like the idea of me walking in the dark. It was a little weird. I wasn’t sure how to process all of this concern about me. “Well, thanks for dropping me off.”

As I entered the shop, I watched his taillights disappear around the corner. That ride—and Eli—had been sweet.

Tonight was my turn to close the shop, which I didn’t mind doing except that it took forever. I locked the front door behind the last few customers, ran the day’s register, and deposited the receipts in the office. After taking one final look around, I shut off the lights and exited the bookstore through The Java Corner.

Mrs. Lubis gave me her version of a smile and tapped the lid of a to-go cup on the counter. “On the house.”

“Thanks,” I said with a smile and picked it up. She had my favorite drink ready—a skinny decaf cappuccino with a dash of cinnamon. As I took my first sip, my gaze lazily surveyed the room. A single customer sat at a corner table with a coffee mug and a tablet computer. He looked a lot like Eli.

I refocused. He
was
Eli.

“Hi,” I said, crossing to him. “What are you doing here?”

“Giving you a ride home.”

A warm glow trickled through my veins. I perched on the empty chair opposite him, suspended somewhere between shock and pleasure. “Thanks. That’s really nice.”

“We can go as soon as I finish my coffee.”

“Sure.”

I sipped my cappuccino while he stared into his mug. Silence ruled.

We needed conversation. Something we had in common. With him, that meant school or soccer. “Were you meeting with Ms. Dewan about an assignment today?”

“No, the essay contest.”

“Really? I wouldn’t think you needed the money.”

“Ms. Dewan does.”

Wow. I hadn’t thought of it that way. Maybe I should reconsider writing one. I took another sip of my drink.

He looked up from his mug and smiled.

I relaxed. This was fun. Comfortable. “Is this the first year you’ve coached for Henry’s league?” “Pretty much. I had knee surgery this summer on my ACL. It’ll take several months to heal, so I thought I’d coach for the fall season.”

“Will you go back to the varsity team next semester?”

“I hope so. Since I want to play at Duke, I need a good spring season.”

“Will you get a soccer scholarship?”

“I’m not interested in that. I just want to make the club sports team.”

“What do you plan to major in?”

“Biology. Eventually, I want to go to med school.”

In every class we’d been in together, he asked lots of questions, not giving up until he understood. An important quality to have in a doctor. “You’ll be great at that.”

He gave me a half-smile. “What are your top schools?”

“I haven’t narrowed the field yet.”
Liar, liar, pants on fire
.

“Are you considering Piedmont?”

I nearly spat out my drink. Had he not processed my huge confession? My family could barely afford milk. A private college with insanely high tuition was completely out of our league, even with everything my father had left in my college fund. “Eli, really.”

“What?”

“Piedmont is nowhere on my list. Magnolia Community College is more my speed.”

“You can do better than MCC.”

“It’s a good school.”

His eyes narrowed on me. He might not agree but didn’t come right out and say so. After gulping down the last of his coffee, he set the mug on the table with a
clunk
, rose, and helped me to my feet.