49. Drew

FORTY-NINE

drew

A WEEK LATER

The Alabama heat clung to me the second I got out of my air-conditioned car. This heat was getting unbearable. My tank top stuck to my back anytime I was out in it, but not even the gross humidity could dim my mood because I'd just gotten a job.

Like an actual, adult job. At the mall in a cute little boutique.

Not that I didn't like just hanging out with Bellamy and the guys—even Hendrix—or Nora and Diane. But the girls had summer jobs, and the guys were always stealing and dealing.

I had enough money to get me through the summer, but I actually wanted to work. I didn't want to be some Barrington brat. It felt good to get something without my dad's help.

I tossed my car keys onto the side table by the door, the manic laughter of SpongeBob spilled from the TV.

"Hey, Peehead," I said when I passed Arlo on the couch, his attention glued to the screen.

"Hey, Miss Drew. Bubba's outside."

I followed the hum of the lawnmower to the backyard, and I stood on the porch for a second, admiring how good Bellamy looked with his sweat-slicked chest, pushing the mower through the tall grass.

He caught my staring, then cut the engine on a smirk. "Why are you standing out here, staring at me like a creeper?"

"I'm perving. Not creeping. It's different."

"Fine. That's acceptable." He reached for the pull.

"I got a job," I said before he cranked it.

I expected him to smile or say congratulations or, at the very least, offer some smartass remark, but instead, all he did was stare.

"What?" I said. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Why did you get a job?"

"Uh, to earn money. What else am I going to do all summer?"

He swiped a hand over his chin, then gave a violent yank to the pull and cranked the mower again. He turned his back to me and cut through the yard. One simple movement that set fire to my very short fuse. What the hell was wrong with him?

I stalked after him and grabbed his arm. "Bellamy!"

"What?" He released the handle and the engine died down.

"Why are you being a dick?"

"What do you want me to say?" His jaw set as he yanked away from my hold. "Congratulations?"

So many things flew through my mind, but I settled on: "How about, just not be an asshole?"

He paced the length of one of the overgrown flower beds, his hands behind his head. "Why did you apply to Alabama State, Drew?"

That stopped me for a minute because how did he even know about that? I hadn't even heard back from them. "I...I'm just keeping my options open."

"Options open." He half laughed. "You got into fucking Cornell, Drew. What other options do you need to keep open?"

"Just...options." Because I was torn. Because I wasn't sure that the thing I had always wanted was, in fact, what I wanted anymore.

Bellamy confused the matter far more than I'd ever like to admit.

"I don't want to talk about this." I turned and headed back to the house, fighting the tight feeling in my chest.

School was over. Summer would be over before we knew it, and I had to make a decision like, yesterday. And the rational, obvious decision was not the one I wanted to make.

Cornell was in New York, and I knew how this went. For a few months, we'd see each other, but eventually, the distance would get too hard. Missing someone all the time would get too hard.

I wasn't ready to miss him. I wasn't ready to let him go.

I was terrified of turning around one day and realizing I'd lost him while gaining, what? A degree in philosophy from Cornell. There was literally no way to make a career out of that. My half-assed, Ivy League, middle finger to my dad was starting to seem very unimportant.

Bellamy snatched hold of my wrist as I reached for the back door. "Why did you really apply to Alabama State, Drew?"

I looked at him, at the guy who suddenly felt like the center of my world. How could he not know? "Do you really need me to say it?"

"Yes."

"Because I don't want to move a thousand miles away from you!" It felt like a gunshot, something I couldn't shove back in the barrel once it was out. But the fact that he didn't know this pissed me off.

His chin dropped on a sigh, then he pulled me tight against his sweat-slicked chest. "God, I hate you."

"This isn't complicated, Bellamy." I closed my eyes, inhaling the scent of fresh-cut grass and gasoline and sweat.

This, what we had was easy; it was pure. It was two people and a connection that some would never be lucky enough to find. It was love. And I'd forgo pretty much anything for the one thing I'd never had. Perhaps it made me a fool, but I didn't care.

"No." He took my chin in his hands. A torn expression creased his brow as his eyes searched mine. "It's stupid."

"Then, I'm stupid."

I wanted to tell him I loved him, but fear wrapped around my throat.

What if he didn't feel the same way? What if I'd inadvertently trapped him by moving in here?

It was rash, a heat of the moment decision he'd made when my dad was being an ass. He was an eighteen-year-old guy living with his girlfriend…

Maybe he wanted me to go to New York.

His thumb swept along my jaw. "You're messing up your whole life for me, baby girl."

I didn't want to talk about this anymore, didn't want to fight, and try to justify this hurricane of feelings. So instead, I kissed him.

The home goods aisle at Wal-E-Mart was crowded, thanks to a summer blowout sale. I maneuvered the shopping cart around a group of women fighting over a sequin-covered pillow as Nora scooped up a set of purple bed linens.

"When are you leaving for France?"

I looked away, feigning interest in an ugly frog lamp. "Uh, I'm not. I'm going to stay here for the summer."

"What? Why? I thought you always went to France for the summer?"

"I got a job. I can save a bit of money before I go to college."

It was a lie. I would work and put the money in that envelope to help Carol. She needed every penny, and I knew as soon as I was in college and not living with Bellamy, my mom would probably activate my credit card again.

It was the living with him part she had an issue with, not dating. Like she thought I would marry the guy tomorrow.

"You're staying for Bellamy, aren't you?"

I shrugged.

Nora sighed, then turned to face me. "I get it. You want to spend the summer with him before you go to Cornell. It's still gross because it's him. But whatever."

"Something like that," I said, drawing a line over the sequin pillow.

Nora was my only friend beside Genevieve, but Gen was going to Brown, and I'd never tell her what I was considering. I figured Nora might understand, and I needed to talk to someone who wasn't Bellamy. "I got accepted to Alabama State."

Nora's eyes narrowed as she put a toothbrush holder back. "I'm sorry. You did what?"

"I applied as a backup, you know, in case Cornell rescinded their offer after I got kicked out of my last school." Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.

"Right…." She pushed the cart down the aisle, then stopped. "I know it's bullshit, Drew, but I don't blame you."

"What?"

She closed her eyes, sucking in a deep breath while mumbling that she couldn't believe she was saying this… "He's like, in love with you. Like big time. I don't blame you."

And that was the last thing I had expected from Nora because everyone else, including Bellamy, seemed to want me to go.

"He wants me to go to Cornell," I said.

"Doubtful."

I leaned back against one of the shelves with a groan. "I feel like I'm being stupid and na?ve and completely ridiculous."

"Do you love him?"

"Yeah." And I hadn't even told him that.

"Then stay with him. You can get a degree anywhere." She turned down another aisle cram-packed with towels. "God, I hate myself for being on his side right now. He's such an asshole."

"This is a weird moment for me, too." I patted her shoulder. "I thought you'd be the first person to stick a foot up my ass and death threaten me into going to Cornell."

"He's a complete dick," she said. "But, I wish someone looked at me the way he looks at you."

By the time I walked out of the store, my mind was made up.