Page 109 of Campus Crush
“I feel like I’m failing at everything right now. I made a mistake on one of Holt’s projects, which thankfully Parker caught, but it’s made me feel awful ever since. I also didn’t do so hot on a test for my Advanced Structural Analysis class, and I’m just… I’m—” My voice cracked, and the tears started spilling before I even realized they were there.
Foster wiped them away, his face calm, although concern was clear in his blue eyes. “You’re allowed to fall apart, Abby. You’re allowed to grieve and miss her. You don’t need to beat yourself up for feeling sad or making mistakes.”
His words were like permission—permission to be human, to be imperfect, to struggle under the weight of everything I was carrying. I leaned into him, letting my tears soak into his shirt as he held me, one hand cradling the back of my head while the other rubbed my back.
“I’m angry at her,” I whispered. The guilt of that statement was eating away at my insides. “I’m so angry that she didn’t tell us sooner, so we had more time to process this. So I could have asked her questions, and we could have gotten all of our ducks in a row before anything happened. She said she had it all covered, but she didn’t. I’m so mad at her, and at the same time, I miss her so much.”
The confession felt like a betrayal, but also a release. I hadn’t allowed myself to acknowledge the anger that simmered beneath my grief.
He held me tighter. “I know you do, and I know you’re overwhelmed. None of this is fair. It’s okay to be mad at her.”
Foster’s acceptance of my complicated emotions, without judgment or platitudes, was exactly what I needed. He didn’t try to fix it or make it better—he simply acknowledged the messy, contradictory feelings that came with my grief.
“Howcan I be mad at her? She’s gone.”
And maybe that was the root of why I was really mad. I was mad that she was gone. I was mad that once again someone I loved had been taken from me.
The pattern of loss felt cruel, as if the universe had singled me out for more than my fair share of grief. The unfairness of it all burned in my chest, a smoldering anger that had nowhere to go.
And then there was the fear that bubbled up closer and closer to the surface every day.
“What if they don’t give me guardianship? What if they decide I’m too busy and have too much going on to look after Mason? What if they put him in a foster home or something? He’s been through enough. I don’t want him to deal with that—to have to livewith strangers.”
My voice rose with each question, the fear I’d been carrying finally spilling out. Mason had already withdrawn so much since Mom died; I couldn’t bear the thought of him being placed with strangers, forced to adapt to yet another loss.
“Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it. First, we need to show the courts that you can provide a stable enough home for him for the next seven months until he turns eighteen. But you also have to take care of yourself, Abby. Come on, why don’t you take a seat? I’ll finish up dinner and get it plated, okay? You just get off your feet. Take a break.”
“Okay,” I said reluctantly.
My body felt heavy with exhaustion as I surrendered control, allowing Foster to take over this small task. It was difficult to let go, to admit I needed help, but the relief that came with it was undeniable.
Before I could walk away, he cupped my cheek and kissed me gently. “It’s gonna be okay. I’ve got you.”
It was those three words that finally let me breathe again. The weight didn’t fully disappear and it didn’t magically solve any of my problems, but knowing that Foster meant every word gave me strength. Foster had my back and he’d proven he wasn’t going anywhere.
FIFTY-FIVE
Abby was working herself into the ground, and I wanted to help ease some of her stress. Every time I saw her, the dark circles under her eyes seemed to deepen. She was constantly checking her watch, rushing between classes, her internship, tutoring, and now dealing with her grandmother’s estate and getting everything in order for Mason’s guardianship hearing. It was too much for one person to handle.
Her biggest concern was about the guardianship case and having a stable house for Mason. The courts would be looking at her living situation, her income, and her ability to provide a suitable home environment for a teenage boy. But I knew the commute from Gram’s house to campus for her classes and her internship was too long. The thirty-plus minute drive each way was eating into her already limited time, not to mention the gas money she was burning through.
When I went home the next day after spending the night with Abby, I decided to talk to Gordy about it. He was sitting at our kitchen table, reading through a sportspsychology textbook and taking meticulous notes. Unlike Drew and Liam who were more likely to shoot from the hip, Gordy always thought things through carefully.
“Hey,” I said, sliding into the chair across from him. “Got a minute?”
He looked up. “Sure, what’s up?”
“It’s about Abby. I’m worried about her.”
Gordy closed his textbook. “Yeah, she’s got a lot on her plate. How’s she holding up?”
“Not great,” I admitted. “She’s trying to be strong for Mason, but she’s exhausted all the time. And this commute situation isn’t helping.”
“Why can’t she live at her apartment?” he asked, tapping his pen against the table.
“Because it’s only a two-bedroom apartment and Sam has the other room.”
I’d had an idea bouncing around in my head for the past couple of days, but I was worried Abby might think it was moving too fast, too soon. We’d only been officially dating for a few months, though it felt like so much longer given everything we’d been through together, and the fact we’d known each other for nearly a year as our online personas.
