Page 52 of Austen, Edited

Chapter 32

By the time Greyson arrived at the familiar old home, he saw no sign that Abby was still there. But then again, he wasn’t sure how she would have gotten there without a car, and neither hers nor Tiffany’s was nearby.

He ran up to the door and knocked, not sure of a plan.

“What do you want?” an older woman asked, opening the door.

“Is Abby here by chance?” He tried to glance inside, only seeing dark shapes and little beams of the descending sun coming through the windows.

“She just left.”

“Who is it, Mom?” came a voice from behind the woman. After several seconds, Abby’s mother appeared in the doorway. She looked similar to Abby in some ways, the same color of eyes, same cheekbones. But the rest of her looked worn and weary.

“Greyson, right? You live next door to my sister.”

Greyson nodded. “Sorry, I’m in a rush to find your, uh, your daughter. Do you know where she went after here?”

Abby’s mother slipped out of the door, shutting it tightly behind her. “I’m not sure, but she gave me her phone number. What is it you need her for?”

Taking a step off the cracked porch, Greyson shrugged. “I just need to talk to her about something.”

“Are you her boyfriend?” the woman asked. Her intense stare had him feeling like she could see through him.

He shifted his weight to the other leg. “No, I’m her best friend, or was.” The words pulled at his chest, guilt coursing through him and making it difficult to swallow from the sudden rush of emotion.

“Why do you say that?”

“We’ve just had some miscommunication that past, um, few days. I just hope she’ll forgive me.”

The woman took a step out of the house and gave him a small smile. “She will. She’s the kind of person who can understand and forgive.” She paused a moment and then asked, “Do you want to be her boyfriend?”

Greyson chuckled, the awkwardness of the conversation overshadowed by his mind spinning. The question solidified his feelings for her, that without Abby in his life, things would never be as good as they could with her by his side.

“Yes, yes I do.”

“Well, then. Go get her. Treat her better than I have.” The woman’s voice choked with emotion at the end.

“I will. Nice, uh, nice to meet you.” Greyson jogged back to the cab and told the driver to maneuver through the back roads to Boston College.

How had he messed up things so badly in such a short time? He ran through a dozen ways to ask forgiveness before they pulled up outside the building. It was nearing night, the sky darkening by the minute, and he was grateful for all the students milling outside the building, allowing him the chance to slip in through the unlocked doors.

He ran up the stairs, adrenaline fueling him forward. Taking a couple deep breaths before he knocked, he waited to hear footsteps, hoping Abby had come back there.

Tiffany opened the door and shook her head. “She’s not here.”

He shifted over a step and knocked his head on the wall a couple of times. Then he stood straight and asked, “Do you know where she is? I need to talk to her now.”

Tiffany folded her arms and leaned against the doorframe. “About what?”

“That I’m pretty sure I’m an idiot and want her to forgive me.”

With her eyes narrowed, Tiffany scrutinized his face for several long, awkward seconds before she finally said, “Library. Probably near one of the back corners.”

Greyson was partway down the hall when she yelled, “Good luck!” and shut the door behind him.

He ran down the stairs and outside, following the hill down first and then up as it rose to the stairs. He made his way through the courtyard and into the library, his eyes scanning for any sign of her.

“Abby! Abby!” he tried to whisper shout.

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