Golden Boys (Golden Boys, #1)(72)

“Heath!” Jeanie comes in with a giant iced sweet tea in her hands and takes a seat next to me. “You’re up—you’re human again! How are we feeling?”

“Did Diana tell you what happened?” I ask quietly.

“Some of it, though I don’t think I got the whole story. She said you were upset about your mom finally moving out and your dad getting that apartment in your town. I talked to her recently, just to check in. Seems like she’s happy.”

“I wasn’t upset about …,” I start, but I don’t know if revealing to her what happened with Cole and Reese would do anything at this point.

But the more I think of it, the more I realize, yeah, it actually has hurt to see my mom leave our house, our hometown. To see Dad move out of our big farmhouse into that tiny apartment. It’s been hard seeing pictures of moving boxes, FaceTiming with my dad as he set up my bed in the smaller bedroom.

Shit, Diana’s not even lying to Jeanie. I am upset about it.

“It’s hit me in weird ways,” I finally say. “Like, I’ve had to be perky and normal with my dad, because it’s hitting him really hard and I don’t know how to deal with him being emotional. And I had a falling out, or something, with one of my friends. I think that kind of made the whole thing collapse.”

“Yeah, I think Diana picked up on that. She’s weirdly perceptive.” She pauses. “I mean, a self-centered disaster at times, but sweet and perceptive too. I love that girl.”

“She’s great. You both are, really. I hate everything that’s happening back in Ohio, but I’m glad I got to hang out with you and help with the arcade, even if I’ve burned a lot of corn dogs.”

She pulls me into a hug, and I wrap my arm around her too. It feels like an invitation, like the ground is shifting beneath me. Before I even try to fix this mess with Reese, I need to accept my new reality. Holidays might look different, and our apartment might be small, and I might never stop missing that old house, but I’ve also gained a lot too. My mom’s in New Mexico, my dad’s in Ohio, and my aunt and cousin are in Florida. I have family all over the country, and I think, with some work, I can learn to love and appreciate it for what it is: something special that only I have.

I tell Jeanie I’ll be ready to work tonight, then say I’m going to take a walk to the beach. I’ve got no clue what’ll happen once I get back to Ohio, but I feel hopeful. And it’s been a long time since I could say that.

My mind drifts back to the beach party, standing next to Cole, watching the fire. The way he told me how he wanted to kiss me was so direct, so easy. Maybe it doesn’t have to be so complicated with me and Reese. Maybe it doesn’t have to be all quiet gestures or words with hidden meaning.

I pull out my phone and FaceTime Reese, and I pray that he’ll pick up.

Please, pick up.





CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

REESE

Today’s the day we turn in our final projects. The only issue? I haven’t finished mine. I’ve already made my peace with the fact that I won’t be having this dress produced for any runway. Objectively speaking, Philip’s design deserves to be on, like, real runways. Right now.

Next week Professor Watts will present the designs to the class and we’ll get our final critiques from her.

Also next week, my moms come for their visit, and thankfully Philip helped me put together this brilliant—his word, not mine—itinerary for their time in France. We’ll hop to the UK after that, and they want me to pick the last location. Mom’s draining all her saved airline points from her work travel over the years, so they’re open to going wherever I want.

I’m excited for London, but I also want to go home. But it feels ungrateful to throw an opportunity like this away. I keep looking at flights, but the only ones that catch my eye are the ones that lead me back to America.

My journal this week is sparse, to say the least. I’ve barely had time to write in my daily schedule, let alone find inspirational quotes or sketch anything. Almost all my creative energy’s gone into my final project. But right now, at least, I let my brain decompress as I pour myself into the page.

I start sketching my charm bracelet, but as my pencil shades in the charm itself, I realize I’m drawing in Heath’s charm. The fire, the stack of wood. I’m feeling altogether homesick, and not just for Ohio, that’s for sure.

After a while, I start back on my final project. Every edit I make improves the overall design, so I know it’s worth it, but at the end of the day, what’s the point? I’ve learned so much this summer, and the grades for this are mainly pass/fail and barely count. We can all put it on our college applications and feel accomplished or whatever, and life will move on.

I’m feeling a bit cynical about it all, but I do know that I learned a lot, so I hold on to that.

I’m a competitive person, but I also know when I’m beat. And that’s okay. Philip and I have managed to salvage most of this summer, and I guess I feel okay with what happened with Heath and that guy. In fact, it’s set me free in a way. I’ve been trapped in this pointless crush for so long, that I can finally …

My phone vibrates, and I lose my train of thought completely.

It’s him. Shit.

I realize that everything I’ve been telling myself was an entire lie as I scramble to the mirror and take a few deep breaths before answering the call. I can’t avoid this anymore, can I? Maybe he’s calling to check in. Maybe he’s calling to tell me about his new boyfriend. I don’t know. But whatever it is, I have to answer.