Page 16 of Austen, Edited

He remembered back when she first got accepted into a few colleges that they’d offered to pay for her tuition and room, something Abby had fretted over for weeks beforehand. As excited as she’d been, she still realized there were a lot of other expenses she’d have to pay for. Greyson felt bad that he didn’t understand it all completely.

His father had paid for every cent of both college and grad school, and he often forgot how grateful he should be that he didn’t have to jump through hoops to get things that were hard for others.

“Where are you living this year?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“Gabelli. Tiffany and I entered the lottery and made it in there with two other gals from Tiffany’s psychology program. It’s clean and has a nice kitchen so we can cook meals. I’m pretty excited about it.” For the first time since he’d seen her that day, her shoulders relaxed and her bright teeth shone against her olive skin. Abby had always tanned well, whereas he just burned.

They chatted about a few things before she pulled up along the curb of Gabelli Hall. The Commonwealth Avenue traffic was heavy today, and they were lucky to find a parking spot that close.

“Oh man! It’s been a while since I’ve been back.” He’d graduated from Boston College when Abby was finishing her sophomore year and then went right into his master’s, knowing he wanted to get the schooling over with while he was still in that frame of mind. It wasn’t always common for guys in IT to do, but at the time, he’d been falling for Hannah during his senior year, so it worked out since she also went to Princeton for her undergrad degree.

“Not much has changed, I bet. Maybe a new building here and there.” Abby smiled at him, that reserved expression she revealed when she was trying to decide on a situation. She popped the trunk and pulled out a couple of boxes, stacking them on top of each other. She lifted them in his direction. “Here you go.”

Greyson took them from her and waited for her to lead out, carrying a large laundry basket. She pulled out a card, swiping it through the card reader and opened the outside door. They stepped onto the elevator, and she pressed four.

The silence pressed down on them, and Greyson tried to think of something else to say. All the progress they’d made over the past few days seemed to go back to the way it’d been at the meeting on Thursday.

“What classes are you taking this semester?”

“I’m taking a young adult literature class, and then there’s one where we study fairy tales and watch Disney movies to analyze them.” She smiled wide, biting her lip once she was done talking.

Greyson raised an eyebrow. “Those are real classes?” When she nodded, he shook his head. “You English majors. Life must be tough.”

She scoffed. “You IT people don’t understand. Last semester, I had to write four eight-page papers almost every week because of my classes. I even had to write one for poetry. I’d love to see you try to take twelve lines and stretch them into eight pages.”

“Touché. I would probably die.” Greyson chuckled, and the elevator doors swung open on the fourth floor.

There were glimmers of hope, but could he and Abby push past all this and be themselves again? If he could, he’d go back in time and do things differently, or at least make sure he talked to her more about his decisions. Hannah had blinded him there for a minute, and he wished he’d seen what he was doing to Abby that made her so gun-shy around him now.

Abby paused for a moment, studying the sign in front of them. Turning to her right, she said, “It looks like we’re this way.”

She punched in the code for the keypad on the door and held it open wide enough for him to enter.

“You made it!” Tiffany said, striding toward them in the entryway. She took the top box from Greyson, her smile disappearing when Abby was behind her. “Hello again. I didn’t expect you to bring him, Abby.”

“He’s just my friendly neighbor,” Abby said, shaking her head. The dismissal in her voice sent a strange sensation through him.

“And best friend,” he argued, following the two girls into the bedroom at the end of the hall. Inside were two twin beds along with identical desks and a standard closet. The section of the room that had already been decorated looked like an explosion of pink and purple had been thrown in.

Abby set her box on the unmade bed and turned toward him. “That’s still up for debate.” She flashed him a quick smile, but it seemed more forced, and he realized he was going to have to work a lot harder to get her to forgive him.

“Come on, Abs,” he said, grateful when Tiffany stepped into the bathroom for a moment. He walked over and took her hands in his, his gaze locked on hers. “I’m really, really sorry about all that happened when I left. If I could change it, I would.”

Abby studied his face, her jaw set in defiance. “I wish you could change it too,” she said, sadness in her tone. She turned and walked out the bedroom door where Tiffany met her and they started chatting about things he didn’t really care about.

They all wandered back out to the car, and Greyson wished Tiffany would go away for a few more minutes so he could talk to Abby more and make her understand he was sorry, to have a better conversation to get an idea what all had hurt her. He’d tried to before, but he hadn’t realized how deeply she’d been hurt by him leaving. He was an idiot.

Once they finally unloaded the car, Abby walked with him out to the street where she handed him her keys. “Be careful with her. I don’t want to hear about any accidents.”

Greyson grabbed the keys from her, their fingers grazing in the process. It was the same sensation he’d felt when he’d put his hand over hers on the stick shift and sitting next to her during the movie, a spark of electricity and a jump of his insides.

He took that chance to grab her wrist softly, holding her in place. “Hey, I know things have been kind of weird between the two of us, and I hate it. I messed up royally before I left, and I’m more sorry than you know. Do you think you can ever forgive me?”

Abby stared into his eyes for longer than was comfortable, but at last she broke eye contact and glanced down, using her foot to play with a rock. “I forgive you, but I can’t just forget everything that happened with a snap of the fingers. I just wish you hadn’t cast me to the side the minute Hannah told you to.”

Running a hand through his hair and placing the other on his belt, he gazed back at her, taking in her full lips and the curve of her neck with her hair up in a ponytail. “Again, that’s something I feel horrible about, but I hope you’ll give me a chance to prove I’m still the same Greyson. I just got distracted for a bit.”

She took in a deep breath before letting it out slowly. He’d forgotten how she was the master at thinking things through.

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