Golden Boys (Golden Boys, #1)(63)

“Okay, I’m sorry, I should have told you I was coming.” He shakes his head. “I should have known something was going on, after how you talked about that guy early on and how you haven’t answered any of my calls lately. I’m sorry. For coming here like this.”

He does this thing, sometimes, where he gets overly apologetic in an attempt to shield himself from any critique. And I get why he’s doing it now—he’s not used to feeling so insecure—but I will not let him flip this on me.

“Let me stop you,” I say, and take a seat next to him on the bed. I kick off my shoes and pull myself up against the perpendicular wall. We’re both looking just past each other. “You ignored my calls for weeks. I know you’re busy, but you and Reese have been fully MIA from the chat lately. At least Reese has the time-zone excuse.”

“I’ve been working fifty hours a week. Apparently everyone there sucks at communication, and I was doing a whole bunch of stuff I wasn’t supposed to do, and it all felt wrong, but I kept saying yes to things, thinking it would get me ahead or something.”

My gaze drifts to him, and my expression must be some mix of disbelief and shock. “Fifty hours? Really?”

“I tried not to complain. I mean, we’ve all had fifty-hour weeks if you count all the extra crap we do for school. This was decidedly harder. I think I had a breakdown.”

He says that last part quietly, like he’s ashamed to admit it. Like he’s not saying this to the actual King of Breakdowns right now. I almost laugh.

“You could’ve talked to us, you know? I get that it’s hard, but you can be, like, a fraction vulnerable with us, your best friends. I know you better than anyone else does, I think, but even I don’t get this. Let me in, tell me, because otherwise you kind of just look like a tool.”

He pauses, and buries his cold toes under my thigh. “Fine. Can I tell you something?”

SAL

“I don’t want to go to college,” I say.

Gabe considers me with this subtle squint before confusion takes over his whole face.

“O … kay? When did you come to that conclusion? Is it just because of this internship?”

“No, it’s not that,” I say with a sigh. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. Even before I left for DC. I think I even word-vomited about it to Katie that last day before I met you on the baseball field. Until earlier this week, she’s really the only person I told.”

“The only person you told about not wanting to go to college was my sister? Even though you’ve been, like, researching where you wanted to go to school and which schools have the best poli-sci programs, and talking to me about this on a near-daily basis since preschool. What changed, then? I don’t get it.”

“Don’t judge me,” I say as I come around to his side and rest my head on his shoulder. He flinches, so I pull back, but then he wraps an arm around me and pulls me back into him. “Lately I’ve just felt like college is this big scam that delays your dreams for four years. I mean, even Katie is liking college not because she’s being prepared for a career but because she’s made friends. Your dad just talks about how much fun college was. His major has nothing to do with his job.”

“But I still think his job required a degree,” Gabe says softly. “I don’t disagree, though. I wouldn’t mind a few more years to figure out exactly what to do, and I think I need environments like that to make friends. But Dad would kill me if I didn’t go. I think I could go to Michigan and he’d feel less betrayed.”

“Ha, your dad?” I scoff. “My mom started sneaking me in to meet with the guidance counselor for college prep conversations back in seventh grade.”

“Ew, she totally did,” Gabe says with a laugh. “She will flip out. But it’s not a big deal, really. Not everyone has to go to college.”

“She’s been prepping me for this for so long, and it just took me so long to realize that my thoughts weren’t my thoughts. My need to go to a good school, maybe even my career path, it’s all her. I’ve got all these competing voices in my head, and I’ve been trying to figure out which voices are mine—the ones that keep pushing me into a career in politics, basically, and which are hers—going to a ‘good school’ and getting perfect grades and getting put on this pedestal.”

“This isn’t some elaborate plan to get back at her for what she did—or, well, didn’t do—when that guy harassed you at school, right?”

I shrug. “That helped me realize some things about my dreams and my plans, but no, I’m not punishing her for that by trying to abandon our college plans.”

“Right,” Gabe says thoughtfully. “So wait, does this mean you’re giving up on being our valedictorian next year?”

I elbow him lightly in the gut. “Don’t count me out just yet.”

My mind is swimming, and I feel the sharp spike of anxiety hit my chest whenever my mind drifts back to DC. I had to run away—physically leave the city—just to clear my mind. It was the only way I could force myself not to go back to work. There are so many untied ends back there, but for once, I let myself sink into this moment, and eventually, these thoughts take the back burner.

“But really, I am sorry for ruining your evening,” I finally say. I pull out of his embrace and look in his eyes. “It’s so nice to see you, Gabe. And wait, why did Matt call you Gabe earlier? Do people call you that here?”