Discovering (Lily Dale #4)(37)

“He can be really pushy. I wasn’t even going to tell you about this, but . . . well, he called again this morning to ask if you were back yet. He hardly ever calls when he’s on the road, especially from overseas. I told him you were coming back today and that I’d let you know he wants to talk to you.”

“What about, though?”

“Something that I’m sure is none of his business,”Blue says with a scowl.

“What is it?”

“I’m not sure, exactly. He wouldn’t tell me. All he said was that it’s about your mother.”

“Tell me, Calla, how is everything going?”asks Mrs. Erskine, an attractive thirty-something blonde who has a framed, recent wedding photo on her desk.

How is everything going? You mean other than the fact that my mother’s dead, my father’s here, someone tried to kill me over the weekend, and I have no idea what I want to do next year?

“Everything’s going great!”She smiles so brightly her face hurts.

“I’m glad.”Mrs. Erskine opens a manila folder. “Your transcript shows that you were a straight-A student back in Florida. And your grades are very good so far this term . . . other than math, I see.”

She waits for Calla to reply.

What am I supposed to say to that?

“I’m kind of having a hard time getting used to how it, um, works here.”

As if math works differently in this part of the country.

Yeah, right.

Mrs. Erskine sort of nods, and Calla can tell she’s thinking that’s no excuse. A formula is a formula.

She looks away, at the rain-spattered windowpane and the gray world beyond.

“I can recommend some tutors so that you can—”

“Oh, I don’t need a tutor. Willow York is my study partner, and my dad is helping me, too.”

“Your father?”Mrs. Erskine glances quickly at the folder, then up again. “But he’s in California, and it might be more helpful for you to work with someone who’s—”

“No,”Calla interrupts again, “actually, he’s here now.”

“For a visit?”

“To stay.”She pauses. “For a while.”She pauses again, conscious of the woman’s intent stare. “Or maybe for good.”

“I’m glad. It’s a good idea for you two not to be separated after . . . all you’ve been through.”

Mrs. Erskine doesn’t know the half of it.

Uncomfortable, Calla looks at her watch. “Um . . . you had said you wanted to see me about college applications?”

“Yes, and there’s no time to waste. Did you make your list for me?”

Calla is already digging in her backpack for the sheet of notebook paper she hastily filled out last night before bed.

She hands it across the guidance counselor’s desk and watches as she scans the list, nodding. “Penn State, Colgate, Cornell . . .”

“Those are my reach schools,”Calla says hastily. “My father is going to take me to see the campuses this weekend.”

“All great places.”Mrs. Erskine gives her an approving smile.

Yes, they are. But they’re only on Calla’s list because her father mentioned visiting them.

“Northwestern,”Mrs. Erskine continues, and Calla nods.

The counselor seems to be waiting for her to say something about it.

“My father’s family lives in Chicago,”she says. “He grew up there, so he thought . . . you know, that I might want to go to school there.”

“Do you?”

“Um . . .”

Mrs. Erskine lowers the list and looks at her. “Calla, you’re the one who should make the decision about where you want to go. Don’t apply to schools that don’t interest you. Really. It’s a waste of everybody’s time.”

“I guess you can cross off Northwestern, then.”

It’s not as if Dad will mind. He was merely making suggestions. She wrote down most of them for lack of anything better.

“How about Florida? You’ve listed a few schools there.”

“I know . It’s where I’m from, so I thought . . .”Again, she hesitates.

In truth, Lisa urged Calla to apply to the same schools on her list. She wants to be roommates, maybe even sorority sisters. It’s what they had always planned on, from the time they were little girls.

But a lot has changed since then.

“Do you want to go back to Florida, Calla?”Mrs. Erskine asks.

“I’m not sure. Not really.”

“Where do you want to go?”

To her horror, she feels hot tears spring to her eyes, and looks down quickly to hide them. “I don’t know . I guess I don’t really want to go anywhere.”

“You don’t want to go to college?”

“No, I do, but . . .”She takes a deep breath and forces herself to look up, trying not to blink and release the tears. “It’s coming up so soon, and . . . I like it here. That’s why I stayed for the school year. I never got to spend time with my grandmother, and I’ve never been to Lily Dale until a few months ago. It’s where my mother grew up. I guess now that I’m here, I don’t really want to leave.”

She sees a flash of understanding—and sympathy—in Mrs. Erskine’s blue eyes. “That makes sense.”