Page 24 of I Would Stay Forever
It was clear that I had played right into his hands, but strangely, I didn’t mind too much. Sue me for being curious.
“I want to go into sports medicine,” he said. “I haven’t decided what exactly, but something where I work with injured athletes. I’ve seen how much damage it can have on the body and I’d love to be able to help people stay in the game without ruining their bodies for life.”
“That does sound really interesting,” I said slowly. Somehow, it had never occurred to me that I could work with athletes. I wasn’t sure why, given that my whole life revolved around volleyball, but I’d always been so focused on academics. And even if I’d considered the medical route, I’d always imagined working in the hospital like Mum.
“What about you?” Dean asked. “What are you thinking you’ll do?”
I sighed and shook my head. "I have no idea. I told her I was going to study psychology."
Dean laughed deeply, and the sound warmed my heart. It shouldn’t have mattered to me that he laughed at something I said, and yet it did. It felt like I’d done something right.
"Why would you choose psychology?" he asked through his dying laughs and I couldn’t help but laugh along a little too.
"Because almost every girl in my grade wants to study it.” I made a swooping motion with my hands. "I figured it would help me fly under the radar."
He just laughed even louder. I squeezed my eyes shut, realizing how stupid I sounded, but it was the truth. I didn’t want to stand out by saying that I hadn’t thought about university at all, which would probably end with me coming in here for many more meetings that wouldn’t help, but I also didn’t want to commit to applying to some insane programs. Psychology was right in the middle—a useful degree without me needing to make any big commitments. And I still had time to change my mind before applications started or even to change my major after a year at university.
"Okay, okay," Dean said, through his laughter. "Well, did you at least pick some good schools?”
“We were just chatting about them generally. University applications don't start until early October.”
“Sure, but what ones did you talk about? Any that stuck out to you?”
My fingers tightened around the pamphlets of universities in my hand, causing the one on top to bend up like it was reaching for me. The University of British Columbia—pretty much as far away from here as I could get without leaving the country.
Dean's eyes landed on it, and something in his face shifted, the laugh dying down in his throat.
"Wow," he said, his voice deeper than usual. He cleared his throat. “B.C., that's pretty far."
I chewed on my lip as I looked at the navy blue pamphlet. “Yeah, I’m just considering it, that’s all.”
I could practically feel his eyes boring into my head.
“For their psychology program?” His voice almost sounded pleading, like he was begging me to say yes. To tell him that I was only considering it for the major that I didn't even care aboutand would likely be tossing the idea aside before applications came around. How could I explain to him that it wasn’t that at all? That I didn’t care what major it was that got me there as long as I could just be somewhere else? I hadn’t tried to tell anyone about how desperately I wanted to get out of here, away from the pain and the memories, but I was sure I wouldn’t be able to make anyone understand. Not even Dean, who was the only person who had been there that night. Who had reallyseenme afterward, as hard as I tried to push him away. I wished I could tell him, but I knew that I couldn’t.
“Just because,” I said simply, glancing back up at him. His face fell at my words and I felt guilty for a moment until I remembered that this was Dean that I was talking to. Sure, he looked upset, but there was no reason for him to be upset about what I’d said—he wouldn’t care one way or another where I was. In fact, he would probably end up being relieved to get a break from me once I was gone.
Emma’s door opened again and she stepped out, her mouth opened like she was ready to call for Dean, but she faltered when she saw us sitting together. I wasn’t sure how long it had been since I walked out here, but I was sure it was more than the five minutes she’d claimed to need, and she was probably wondering why I hadn’t left for class. I was just starting to get up when she clapped her hands together and said, “Well, isn’t this cute? How long have you two been dating?”
Dean made a weird strangled noise, while my eyes widened to a comical size. I glanced at the gap between us, just now noticing how small it had gotten. I hadn’t realized that I’d been sliding toward him as we talked, but I must have been.
“We’re not,” I said quickly, turning back to Emma. “We were just...” I flailed, not sure how to make it clear that this was completely platonic. Meanwhile, Dean was stumbling over his own excuses, saying words like “next door” and “brother” and abunch of gibberish in between that I was sure Emma couldn’t make out. She looked completely bewildered as she glanced between us. I started throwing out more random excuses, like “we have a group project together” and “we barely know each other, really,” as if that would help at all, and when Dean finally went quiet, I took a breath and said, “He's just my brother's best friend.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dean flinch slightly. It took me a second to realize it was because of the way I’d worded it—justmy brother’s best friend. As if he was nothing more to me. Not my friend. Nothing.
Two months ago, the words would have been right. Two months ago, I was sure he wouldn’t have cared. But now, even though I’d spent all of August and the last week denying it, I could see that something had changed between us. We didn’t just stop and talk to each other to be polite because he was Sebastian’s friend. We didn’t only tease each other like siblings now. As odd as it was, I was pretty sure that Dean and I had somehow slid into the territory of beingfriends.
“Well, we better get to this meeting, huh?” Dean said, practically jumping to his feet. He didn’t glance back at me as he walked toward Emma’s office, but she gave me a curious glance. I got to my feet as well, swinging my book bag over my shoulder and glancing at the clock. The bell was going to ring any second now, so I might as well start heading upstairs to my second period class before the rush of other students.
“It was nice meeting you,” I said to Emma. Then I booked it out of there. I’d completely forgotten about the teacher that had been in the doorway, but she was long gone now, I guess deciding not to come into the guidance office after all. I wondered how long ago she’d left. How long I’d been sitting with Dean unnecessarily. And more than that, I wondered why I was happy that neither of us had noticed.
“Do you have volleyball practice today?”
I jumped at the suddenness of my brother’s voice, slamming my head straight into the side of my locker. I groaned and rubbed at the mark as I rested back on my knees and looked up at him. I’d been digging around the floor of my locker, trying to find my student card that had slipped out of my bag at some point. The hallway had been empty when I got here since my class let out early, but as I looked around, I realized that there were a number of students here, all of whom must have seen me on my hands and knees like an idiot. Lovely.
I stood up, brushing dirt and whatever else had been on the floor off my plaid skirt. The floors had been sparkling clean this morning like the school had been deep cleaned last night, but now they’d been stomped on by hundreds of students tracking in the outdoors. It was only out of the sheer desperation of not wanting to be among the crowds of students who lost their student card within the first week of the school year that had me daring to kneel on it in the first place.
“No,” I told Sebastian. “Our first practice is on Tuesday.”
