I'll Stop the World (107)

“What’s all this yelling out here? I can barely hear myself think,” his father called sharply, sticking his head out the sliding door to the deck, his expression a thundercloud.

But then he spotted Lisa and his entire demeanor changed, his shoulders dropping and his face smoothing. In an instant, he was the Gabe Rothman people loved to invite over for Sunday dinners, the one who always kept Jolly Ranchers in his pockets for his clients’ kids and shoveled the neighbors’ driveways every time it snowed. “Oh, hi, sweetheart, I didn’t know you were here. Can I get you a snack?”

“No thanks, Mr. Rothman, I’m good.” Lisa smiled. “Just came over to study with Shawn.”

“That’s nice of you. Just don’t let him drag you down,” Gabe said with a wink. “He has a hard time staying on task.”

“I think we’ll be okay,” Lisa said as Shawn’s fingernails dug into his palms. Why did his dad always have to be like this? Everyone thought he was this great guy, yet when it came to his son, he was nothing but sharp edges and stinging barbs.

“Well, let me know if you need anything,” Gabe said jovially, disappearing back into the kitchen.

Shawn looked at Lisa, his jaw quivering. “I’m sorry I yelled at you,” he said softly.

“Listen,” Lisa said, stepping into the yard and dropping her books on the wooden picnic table. “I know we need to study for Precalc, but you seem really stressed out. Maybe you need a break. It could be fun if we—”

“No, Lisa, no more fun.” Shawn groaned. “Can’t you see how behind I am? I don’t have time for fun!”

“Sorry,” Lisa said, looking slightly taken aback. “I was only trying to help.”

“I know. I know you were, babe.” Shawn scrubbed a hand down his face, heat pricking the backs of his eyes. “He just makes me so . . .” He trailed off, shaking his head.

He makes me like him, his mind whispered, but he shoved away the thought. He was nothing like his father. And that was how it was going to stay.

“What do you want to do?” Lisa asked.

“I want to go back in time and spend the past two weeks actually studying,” Shawn said. “I love doing stuff with you, but saying yes to all the stuff you’ve wanted to do lately has put me so far behind, and I don’t think . . . I’m not going to be able to . . .”

He swallowed, unable to voice out loud what he knew was true. He was out of time. He’d never get it now. “I just . . . I can’t stay here with him,” he said softly. “But if I don’t get this scholarship, that’s it. I’m stuck.”

“No.” Lisa shook her head, refusing to believe the truth that seemed so obvious to him. “No, there are still other ways. You can get a job or a loan or—”

“He’ll never let me,” Shawn insisted. “He’d always find some way to keep me here. You know he would. But I thought, if I’ve already got the money—if it’s already done . . .” His eyes grew hot, then blurry. He wiped them on the shoulder of his shirt, hoping it looked like he was scratching an itch. “But that’ll never happen now. I messed it all up.”

“Shawn, I’m so sorry,” Lisa said, looking horrified. “I didn’t realize.”

“It’s not your fault,” he said, his voice shaking, trying to keep from bursting into tears. “I should have said something.”

“I shouldn’t have put you in this position in the first place,” she said, grabbing his hand and looking into his eyes. “I just kept suggesting stuff without thinking.”

“I kept saying yes, even though I knew—”

“No, really, it was my fault. I just wasn’t paying attention.”

“It was my fault; I should’ve been more—”

“Okay, let’s stop for a sec,” Lisa interrupted, blowing out a breath. “We could go back and forth all afternoon about whose fault it was, but that doesn’t help now. What can we do to make this better? Can I help you study? Quiz you? Help make flash cards? We’ve still got a couple days. You can still be ready.”

Shawn dropped his eyes to the pile of school supplies on the picnic table. He thought through his mental study schedule, which he’d already completely blown. It’s too late, his brain whispered. There wasn’t enough time. He was totally screwed.

He took a shaky breath, then shook his head. “I think . . . maybe you should just go home,” he said.

“What? No, Shawn, let me help—”

“You can’t help, okay?” he snapped. “No one can. It’s hopeless now, so you might as well not waste your time.” He scooped up a stack of notebooks and walked across the deck to the large outdoor trash can. “I won’t waste mine either,” he said, lifting the lid.

“What are you doing?” Lisa asked, hurrying over to grab the notebooks away from him before he could toss them inside.

“I’m giving up,” Shawn said. “Just like my dad always knew I would.”

“Shawn, no. Don’t say that.” Lisa’s eyes darted toward the house, and she bit her lip, her forehead creased.

“What?” Shawn asked after a minute of watching the gears behind her eyes turn. He’d known her long enough to recognize her thinking face.