Page 50 of Between Now and Forever

“I…didn’t go to college.” She says it like she’s confessing to a crime.

“Me neither. So that’s another thing we have in common,” I say.

She turns back to face me, her expression skeptical. “What else do we have in common?”

“Each other.”

I walk over to stand by her, and she turns her back to the window so that I’m looking at the other side of her face.

There’s a long pause, and in the silence of our voices, I hear other things.

The dull throb of my pulse, the purposeful deep breaths she keeps taking, the way my breathing shifts and mimics hers.

This quiet communion feels uncomfortably intimate, and I cut through it with a simple question.

“What happened tonight? Why were you alone?”

She darts a glance at me and then looks back out of the window.

“I had to beg my brother to let me go to that party. I never get to do things like that. I was so excited. And then, I got there and it sucked.” She rolls her eyes at that last word.

“The party?”

“And my friends.”

She tells me about the bottle of liquid Molly and her phone, and by the time she’s done, my jaw hurts from clenching it so tight.

“And the worst part…is that if they’d walked over and asked me to join them, I would have. What does that evensayabout me?” she asks miserably.

I put a hand on her shoulder.

”There’s nothing wrong with giving a shit, Beth. They’re the defective people in this scenario. Not you. I wish you’d told me this when we were out there. It’s been a minute since I had a good reason to knock somebody out.”

She gives me a grateful smile and blushes.

“While seeing Duke get his ass kicked would be a very nice thing, it wouldn’t be worth all the trouble. His older brother is the mayor. His father is a political king maker. He’s the only person whose ass my father kisses. If I damage that relationship, he’d probably kill me," she says.

“Duke is a dumb name and I’m shocked that this town is big enough to have a mayor.”

“It’s not that small. And it needs leadership.” There’s a fond expression on her face as she defends her town.

“Yousureyou hate it here? Maybe you just need new friends.”

“Yeah…I mean, it’s home. I’m a product of it…I love it, really. But it doesn’t love me back. No matter what I do.”

I feel every single ounce of her frustration. That’s exactly how I feel about my career. I’m good at it. I’ve been raised thinking it’s what I’m supposed to do. But now…I don’t know.

“I’m scared that if I stay, I’ll never know what it’s like to belong. But I’m scared that if I leave, I’ll find out that everything I’m afraid of will come true.”

“Like what?”

“I’m afraid I’m not good at anything. That I won’t be able to take care of myself. That in the end, I’ll have to come back home with my failure hanging over my head.” She looks incredulous and shakes her head. “What was in that tea? I feel like I’ve had a truth serum. I’ve never said that to anyone. Not even myself.”

“My mother is a gifted doctor, but truth serums are above her pay grade. I think it’s just that sometimes you meet people who are easy to talk to.”

She just smiles, but still looks self-conscious.

“Beth, I’m very familiar with failure. Trust me, it’s not the worst thing, and it doesn’t have to be the end. Unless, of course, your failure leads to your death. But otherwise, you can just try again.”

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