Page 74 of Love and Other Chances

Sighing, I settle on the honest option and speak in a low tone. “I haven’t really talked about this with anyone outside of Lana, Amaya, and Brooks,especiallynot Rachel or Kent. But I’m thinking about not coming back to Arrow staff next year.”

Bailey raises one eyebrow but gently nods. “What’s making you consider a change?”

I blow out a breath. “It’s not that I don’t love the job. Because I do. And I know it fits within how God has wired and gifted me.” I chew my lip before continuing. “There’s this growing sense inside me that this might not be theonlything God gifted me for. A curiosity to explore something new. Well, kind of new, kind of old—to go back and give teaching a real chance. But I’m not sure how to make the decision.”

Bailey’s head is nodding with understanding, not skepticism, which feels encouraging. “You’re certainly suited to the full-time college ministry life, but that doesn’t mean it’s the end-all be-all. Clearly our situations are different, but choosing to make a change and move back to Brooklyn has been exactly what I needed in this season. Maybe it won’t be forever, but for right now, I’m enjoying my job. And I’ve loved connecting with you, Lana, and Amaya—even your other small group friends I met at your birthday party. Brooklyn feels a lot like home for now, and it’s been healing in ways I don’t think I would have found in Texas or California. So, don’t be afraid to make a change if you think that’s what God is leading you to do. I’m always here to be a sounding board if you need it.”

“Bailey, I’m really glad you came to Arrow tonight. And really glad you moved back to Brooklyn. I’m so grateful to have another chance to be your friend,” I tell her. “I can’t tell you how encouraging it’s been to have you as a listening ear to talk to about life and Arrow stuff. Especially since you understand everything but aren’t caught up in the middle of it.”

Bailey’s smile is warm when she responds. “I’m really glad too, Teegan. While I wish I would have acted differently in college so we could have been better friends then, I’m glad we have the opportunity now.”

Despite having an enjoyable time with Bailey at the meeting and After Party, my body is buzzing with anxious energy when I get home. The logic of knowing that I should just talk to Kent and Rachel is outweighed by my flight response.

Nope. Don’t want to do that.

I decide to text Brooks instead, unsure if he’ll be awake at this late hour.

Hey there! Sorry if I wake you up. Was wondering if I could see you tomorrow after school?

I set my phone down on the nightstand and change into pajamas, trying to keep my hopes of him texting me back appropriately low. Who am I kidding? Even graded on a curve, I’d be getting an “F” in “success at keeping my hopes down.” That is, if checking my phone every other second is any indicator.

The longer my phone stays stubbornly silent, the more my heart sinks. I go to the bathroom to brush my teeth and finish getting ready for bed. Tucking myself under my pink comforter, I blow out a long breath. I can feel the deep frown curling my lips down, sulking that Brooks isn’t available to break me out of my spiral.

Super mature, Teegan. Better hope Logan doesn’t find out.

My phone pings, and my heart lurches at the sound. Propping myself up on my elbows, I eagerly unlock it, expecting a “Yes!” text from Brooks.

BROOKS

Sorry, tomorrow won’t work for me

My lungs slowly deflate, and my heart shrivels.

ok

Setting the phone down, I plop back on my bed and fight off tears.Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Just don’t think about it, Teegan. Remember the puppy we saw on campus today? Think about the cute little puppy.

I’m failing miserably (again) in my attempt to redirect my thoughts when the phone suddenly rings, causing me to jump.

It’s Brooks.

“Hello?” I ask.

“Teeg, I’m sorry,” Brooks says, voice strained. “That was totally rude, and I’m sorry. Of course I’d like to see you. I just . . . I won’t be here tomorrow.”

“Oh,” I answer, one part reassured and one part perplexed. “What do you mean, you won’t be here tomorrow?”

“I, ah, I . . .” Brooks trails off. I’m tempted to interject and lighten the tension, but something tells me to stay quiet.

“I’m driving home to KC tomorrow,” Brooks finally says. “It’s, um, tomorrow is the anniversary of . . .”

Understanding sinks in, strangling my heart. “Of your mom?” I finish for him, voice quiet.

“Yeah.”

We’re both silent for a beat, listening only to the sound of each other breathing.

“Can I come with you?” I ask. My voice is small because, realistically, Ido notwant to willingly walk into such a sad situation. Into such a painful memory.

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