By Your Side(63)

“And your pain? How is that?”

“Once-a-day pain meds, doc. Why so serious?”

Because I didn’t want to face what else I had to talk about. I wasn’t even sure how to start. Maybe I didn’t have to. Maybe he already had some of the information. “Have you talked to Dallin?”

“Yes, Friday. Surely you remember us being idiots.”

“I remember. You haven’t talked to him since then?”

“No, why?”

I took a gulp of air. “Do you know Dax? From school?”

He scrunched his face up as though thinking. “Dax Miller? The druggie?”

“He’s not a druggie.”

“What about him?”

“Well, he was in the library with—”

The door swung open and Dallin walked in with an “I heard you’re springing this joint on Wednesday.”

My gaze swung from Jeff to Dallin, then back again. “You get to go home on Wednesday? You didn’t tell me.”

“I was just about to. Hey, Autumn, I get to go home on Wednesday.”

“That’s great. Really great.”

“I agree,” Jeff said.

“I do too.” Dallin slid a rolling chair across the room and sat down opposite me, next to Jeff. “So, Friday night is the basketball game, but Saturday night I am throwing you a Jeff is Free party. My place. You in?”

Jeff smiled. “Since my name is in the title, I better be.”

“Isn’t that too much for you too soon?” I asked.

“Have you met my doctor, Dallin? Doctor Autumn.”

“Funny, but I’m serious.”

He grabbed my hand. “I know you are. I’ll be fine.” Then he turned to Dallin. “Is there still snow on that hill in your backyard? We need to go by the car graveyard before Saturday.”

“Yes, and yes.”

So much for talking to him today. I had a feeling Dallin was here on purpose. I had interrupted his day so he was paying me back. It was fine, though—my talk with Jeff could wait. Maybe until after the celebratory party. Jeff was having an exciting week. I didn’t need to ruin it.





CHAPTER 43


Dax was standing in my driveway when I pulled up. An embarrassing amount of relief poured through my body. He was there. I needed him and he was there. Then I remembered what I had to talk to him about first, before I got to tell him he was amazing. My eyes shot to his book that sat on the console of my car. I tucked it between the seats and rolled down my window.

“Hop in.” I didn’t want to risk my parents interrupting us.

He listened, climbing in the passenger seat, and I drove, with no destination in mind.

“I was worried you were sick today. I didn’t see you at school. I’m so happy to see you. I’ve had the weirdest day. The weirdest couple of days, actually. I need to talk it out.” I put my hand on his but he didn’t grab on or move in any way. His gaze was directed out the window. His stare was dark.

“You didn’t want me to go inside and meet your family?” he asked.

“What? No, I did. I do. I’d love for you to meet them, but I needed to talk to you.”

“Pull over up here.” He gestured toward a business complex ahead. I pulled into the parking lot, coming to a stop in front of a dentist office.

“Did something happen? Is everything okay at the group home? Are you okay?” I slid closer and put my arms around his shoulders, brushed a kiss on his cheek. If he needed to get his mind off something, I would gladly help. I could use some mind clearing myself. He was as still as could be, not moving to welcome me in at all, not even uncrossing his arms from in front of his chest.

“Dax? What is it?” I pulled at his arms playfully.

“You saw my mom.”

“Oh.” Oh. All this rage was directed at me. I sank back into my own seat. Who had told him? I was supposed to be the one to tell him. I had the gentlest way possible planned out. “Yes?”

“You sent her my letter?”

“No . . . I didn’t. My mom did by accident. It had fallen out of the book. She saw it on the counter so she sent it. I’m so sorry.”

“But you just happened to have memorized the address on the envelope?”

“No, I put it in my phone when I found it because I was curious about where she lived. And then when the letter was sent . . . It probably sounds unbelievable but I promise it was not some preplanned plot or anything. It was all just a big accident.”

“But you preplan everything. Make rules for everything.”

“No, not everything.”

He wouldn’t look at me, just stared out the front windshield like it was all he could do to control his anger. “You getting in your car and driving to my mother’s house was an accident?”

“Well . . . not that part. By that time I was just trying to fix the mistake.”

“That was the mistake.”

“I know.” My chest was tight, my breath hard to come by. I did not want to use that as an excuse not to have this conversation, though, so I tried to hold myself together.

“Who told you?”

“She did.”

I gasped. “Your mom? She told you? She went to your house?”