Page 49 of Trusting Blake
“Blake. . .” I murmur, pivoting around the pair of them, reaching for his arm in an effort to calm him down, but he only shakes me off.
“Well, she is,” Blake counters, nostrils flaring. “What kind of parent doesn’t let their kid chase their dreams?”
“The kind of person who watched her husband throw his life away chasing music,” Jason says in a steely voice. His eyes are locked on Blake. “I didn’t make it, Blake, and you know where I’ve ended up? Building condos! I should have pursued a real career instead of fooling around, always thinking my big break was round the corner.” He slams the last of the dishes into the draining rack, wipes his hands on a cloth, and murmurs almost to himself, “Maybe then I would have been a better husband and father.”
This is getting way too heavy and personal, and I know this conversation isn’t meant for my ears. But Blake and his dad are oblivious. I retreat a few steps, removing myself, but in a studio apartment, there’s not exactly anywhere to go.
“So what you’re saying is that you don’t believe in me either,” Blake says in a small, defeated voice. “You agree with Mom. You think I should study something else.”
“No, I just want you to be smarter than I ever was.” Jason turns to look at his son, his eyes gentler now. “Of course I believe in you, Blake. You have way more talent than I ever had.”
Blake’s expression shifts in an instant to become painfully eager. “I have?”
“Yes. And you’re doing things right; getting a degree. If it’s what you want,I’llbe the parental signature on your course application. Get it over to me when the time comes. You only need one parent’s signature, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, there you go,” Jason says. “You’re officially applying for early decision for Vanderbilt. Congratulations, buddy.”
Blake is speechless, caught off guard by the turnaround of events. His expression is despondent and ecstatic all at the same time – half disappointed that his dad won’t let him stay here in Memphis, but also massively relieved that he’ll get the signature he needs to get his foot, hopefully, in the door of the Vanderbilt campus next fall.
Jason grabs the plate Blake slammed down on the countertop and dunks it into the sink, calmly continuing washing the dishes. Blake walks around me, avoiding eye contact, and collapses onto the couch with his head in his hands.
I sit down next to him and put my hand on his thigh. He’s breathing deeply as he runs his fingertips back into his hairline.
“Hey,” I whisper gently, lowering my head to catch his eye. “Are you okay?”
Blake inhales a sharp breath and drops his hands from his face, nodding. But it’s obvious he’s not. His eyes shine, bloodshot. I’m not sure why he’s so upset, but as his empty gaze fixates on the window ahead, I scoot in closer to him, wrapping my arms around his bare torso. He’s hot to the touch, and I can feel his heart beating fast beneath his skin. He rests his head atop mine.
“I need to jet off now,” Jason says, wiping his damp hands on his cargo shorts. He walks over to the living area and sits on the coffee table in front of us, and Blake and I pull apart. “You call me when you get back to Fairview, okay, Blake? Drive safe, and I’ll see you again soon. Mila, it was great to meet you.”
“You too,” I reply. “I loved watching you perform last night.”
“Ah, thanks,” Jason says, humbly waving me away. He extends a closed fist to Blake. “Put it here.”
Blake sighs and reluctantly fist-bumps his dad. “We’ll lock up when we leave.”
Jason ruffles Blake’s already messy hair, then leaves the apartment. Silence falls over Blake and me as we’re left alone.
“You’d rather stay here in Memphis?” I ask him. It’s such a surprise to me – Blake has always raved about Nashville and how much he loves the city.
“I’d rather stay with my dad,” Blake says, his hardened gaze rising to look at me. “I don’t care where, as long I’m out from under my mom’s roof. Here, Nashville, Alaska. It doesn’t matter. He gets what I’m about. He gets that music is my life. He won’t treat me like a kid and walk all over my ambitions.”
“But Vanderbilt is in Nashville.”
“So? That doesn’t mean I couldn’t finish senior yearhere.” He gets up to grab a T-shirt from the backpack he ran to his truck to retrieve along with my duffel bag last night.
My heart sinks even lower than it did yesterday when I brought up this subject, yet I do it anyway. “But what about us?” I say, trying to keep the whine out my voice.
“Mila, what do you want from me?” Blake snaps, slipping the white T-shirt over his head, his movements clearly fueled by frustration. “Youdon’t even stay in Fairview. You can’t just expect me to stay there forever.”
“You sound like you don’t care,” I say, not even trying to hide the disappointment evident behind each word.
Blake squeezes his eyes shut as he relaxes his tight shoulders, and he exhales loudly. “Idocare, Mila. I’m madbecauseI care,” he retorts, exhaling loudly as he starts gathering our stuff. “I’m mad because I don’tknowwhat will happen when you go home. Every time I start thinking about it, the whole situation just seems impossible.”
Growing exasperated, I stand in front of him. “We’ll make it work,” I say sharply. Then in the heat of the moment, I fire accusingly at him, “And when were you going to share with me the news that Lacey is your ex?”
Blake’s hands freeze over my bag, and he lifts his head, his expression bleak. “Why does it matter?”
