Page 148 of Learning Curve

My friends—Julia and Kayla—who are the sweetest, kindest, most amazing girls I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing, and for the past week, all I’ve done is avoid them.

Even Blake and Ace have tried to stop by.

And Finn, well…he texts me every day, all day long. Random shit. Links to songs on Spotify. Funny memes that made him laugh. I love yous.

He also hasn’t gone a single day without having a nurse come in and ask if I’m accepting visitors, but I always say no.

“Did you happen to see anyone out in the waiting room?” I ask Wren, my curiosity too damn piqued to deny.

“By anyone, I’m assuming you mean Finn,” she says and just barely glances up at me as she applies polish to the pinkie toe on my right foot. “And yes, he’s in the waiting room. Like he’s always in the waiting room. All he needs is a bed and a family portrait, and I think they’d officially declare it his new home now.”

“Get real. There’s no way he’s here all the time.”

Wren eyes me seriously. “Scottie, he’s here all the time. He never leaves.”

“But what about his classes?” I question, and she shrugs.

“All I know is that he’s here all the time. Sometimes, he is working on school shit, so I assume he’s found some way to stay on top of things.”

“I wish he wouldn’t do that,” I say, but my voice is so quiet that I don’t even know if Wren heard me.

“You might be trying to push him away, but it’s not working. I mean, he’s always here. Always. Not to mention, I just found out today about that GoFundMe he started for you. If all those things combined don’t scream love and devotion, I don’t know what does.”

“GoFundMe? What?”

“You didn’t know?”

She pauses painting my nails to pull her phone out of her jeans pocket. A few taps to the screen and she hands me her phone. And right there on the screen is an actual GoFundMe page for Scottie Bardeaux.

And when I see how much money he’s managed to raise for me, I drop Wren’s phone into my lap. “Is that real?”

“Girl, it’s real,” Wren says. “When I showed Dad this morning, he burst into tears. I can’t even begin to tell you how stressed he’s been about keeping your medical care going, even though he doesn’t have the funds to pay for it all. Last week, he spent hours on the phone trying to get payment plans in order. And now, because of Finn, all of that’s been solved.”

Big, fat, salty tears stream over my lips, and I pick Wren’s phone back up to look at the list of people who have donated money and left kind words of support.

The Kelly Family—Thatch, Cassie, Ace, and Gunnar.

The Brooks Family—Kline, Georgia, Julia, and Evie.

All of Finn’s newest brothers and sister—Remy, Flynn, Ty, Jude, and Winnie and their families.

Wendy Winslow and Howard.

Finn’s mom and his siblings.

Coach Jordan.

Literally every single one of my teammates.

A bunch of my professors.

Dean Kandinsky.

Even Officer Walters from the Dickson Campus Police.

So many people and so much money and I don’t even know how to feel about it.

When Wren sees that I’m crying, she stops painting my nails and climbs into bed beside me.

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