Take Me On (Pushing the Limits #4)(58)

“Did your grandfather find a volunteer for the gym?” she asks.

“Sort of.” John was searching for a volunteer so he didn’t have to pay anyone to wash the mats and bags, but because West can’t pay gym fees, the two of us have been cleaning after we train on Friday and Saturday nights.

West and I have been training together for three weeks and I’ve been impressed. He does possess raw talent and he’s a quick study, but when I start to contemplate how much he needs to learn to go against Conner, I grow nauseous. There’s no way it can be done.

As if I’m a prisoner searching for an escape, I survey the room again. West, West, West, West. I can’t stop thinking about him. His family asked him to return home and he did, but I can tell by the hurt in his eyes that things aren’t fixed.

Thinking of West causes me to sigh and Mrs. Collins squishes her mouth to the side. She lets it slide as she clicks her mouse and her computer springs to life. “If you don’t mind, I need to send a quick email.”

“Okay.” West and I have never discussed the night he stayed with me. It’s like it never happened and sometimes I wonder if I dreamed it. But the memory of his lips hot against my skin, of his hand on my stomach— My breathing hitches. It definitely happened.

Actually, West did mention that night the first day we trained together after he moved home. He only said, “It’ll be simple. For now. Until I know you’re ready for more.”

For now... Ready for more. My heart flutters. No. No fluttering is allowed. West and I work better together as simple. Not complicated, but the thought of his mouth near mine....

Stop it! Focus on something. Anything.

With her fingers still moving, Mrs. Collins glances at me from the corner of her eye. “Is there something you’d like to talk about?”

“No.” Not at all.

She finishes. “You seem a bit nervous. I promise—I’m completely harmless. Though I have one ex-student who claims I can’t drive, but no need to worry. We won’t be leaving the office.” She winks and grins like we’re friends.

Guess I’ve been as twitchy as a rat in a meth lab.

“I pulled you out of class because one of your teachers told me you’re trying to apply for the Longworth scholarship?”

I nod. Is it a crime to ask for teacher recommendations?

“It only pays for books,” she says.

“I know.”

Mrs. Collins opens a file, slips out a piece of paper and hands it to me. “This is the Evans scholarship. It’ll pay for four years of tuition for a person majoring in kinesiology.”

I sit straighter and handle the paper as if it’s gold. “A full ride?”

“Yes.” She brightens and I wait for rainbows to appear behind her and blue birds to land on her shoulder. Mrs. Collins definitely is too happy of a person or maybe I’ve been down for so long that I’ve forgotten what happiness is.

She loses a bit of the rainbow as she folds her hands on her desk and settles into her serious face. “But it’s an extremely competitive scholarship and this isn’t a simple essay and transcript situation. Students from across the nation will be sending in videos showing why they would be the best candidate.”

I scan the three pages while dread and hope battle for dominion. Oh, my God, I actually have a shot at winning this, but I’ll have to find some footage of my old fights and videotape me training West. I can show his training from beginning to end. And this is where the dread eats the hope. He’s going to need to spar, which means I will, too.

“Haley?” Mrs. Collins says. “Are you okay? You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine.” I run a hand through my hair. “Thank you for this. I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

The smile on her face is so sincere that I relax in my chair. Maybe she’s not out to destroy me.

“Your grandfather speaks highly of you. He’s very proud of your accomplishments in his gym and at school.”

The relaxing turns to sagging. Great—guilt. One parent–teacher conference and they’re best friends for life. I pretend to read the application while she taps a pen against the desk. “When I first began social work, I was hired as a case worker in a homeless shelter.”

My eyes shoot to hers and she steadily holds my gaze. She knows. Dear God, she knows.

“It’s not easy to be without a home. It’s confusing and scary and if it’s that way for an adult, it has to be twice as terrifying for a teenager. I know you’re no longer there, but I also know things are still floating. Unfortunately, the state isn’t allowing me to take you on as a client, but because I work in this school you can talk to me anytime and my door will always be open.”

“How do you know?”

“Your parents didn’t sign up for the parent–teacher conference and then I couldn’t reach them by phone and the letter was returned, so I found your grandfather. Haley, he really does care about you.”

Care about me? I crave to crush his throat. He told her our family’s private business. Why didn’t he lie? Why didn’t he say it was a mistake? Why didn’t he tell her that we have a home?

I stand, wanting to leave, but not sure if I’m allowed. The scholarship application crackles in my hand. “Are you taking me away from my family?” The words slip out and I immediately wish I could take them back.