Happenstance 3 (Happenstance #3)(19)
Author: Jamie McGuire

“It’s not high school. It’ll be different. I doubt I’ll ever see him.”

“Why are you being so stubborn about this?”

“I’m not being stubborn! It’s just something I want!”

“You’ve never even been to the goddamn campus, Erin! How do you know if that’s what you want?” he yelled. The veins in his neck were bulging from his reddened skin. He turned away from me. Then, he stood up and began pacing again with his fingers laced on top of his head.

“You loved me before you spent time with me. Sometimes, you just know.”

Weston turned and sat on the coffee table in front of me, leaning over and gripping my knees. “I am. I am so in love with you. I don’t want to be just a stop on your way out of here.”

“You’re not,” I said, a little too much desperation in my voice.

“No relationship will work if it’s not a priority. Definitely not a long-distance one. I’m afraid if it’s not easy, if it’s too much work, you’re going to call me one day and tell me it’s over. I need you to need me, Erin. If you don’t, you’re not invested enough to make this work.”

“Weston, are you listening to me? I’m telling you—”

“Everything but what I want to hear.”

I frowned. “You want a promise.”

“I could make that promise. Right here, tonight, I can promise you that I can make this work. I can promise that I won’t give up.”

I felt tears burning my eyes. “That’s like promising you won’t die or promising you’ll never hurt someone. Some things aren’t in our control. You can’t promise we’ll stay together because you don’t know how you’ll feel a year from now.”

“Yes, Erin. I can.” He watched me for a long time, and then his jaw tensed. “Is it me you don’t believe in? Or us?”

“A few months ago, you were in love with a different Erin.”

He glared at me. “You know that’s not true.”

“I’m not being difficult, Weston. I’m being realistic. I’m not trying to hurt you.”

“Then, promise you’ll try.”

“Of course I’ll try.”

He touched his forehead to mine, unsatisfied even with the words he’d asked me to say. “We don’t have much time left. I’m counting down the days until we pack up and drive in different directions. It feels permanent. I don’t know what’s going to happen a year from now, but I know I will never get over you. And I will do anything to keep from having to try.”

“Weston,” I whispered. I sucked in a breath. A tear spilled over and fell in a line down my cheek. “I can’t do this for you. I have to do this for me.”

His face compressed as if he were in pain, and he spoke in a begging tone, “I know we’re high school kids, and it’s crazy to feel this way, but college is four years of my future. The rest is all you.”

I took a deep breath and touched his cheeks with my hands. “One of these days, you’re going to be staring at my Oklahoma State degree on the wall in our house somewhere in Texas, and I’m going to remind you about our last week of high school and how worried you were over nothing.”

He laughed once without humor, and he looked so deeply into my eyes that my walls couldn’t keep him out. “That sounds a little like a promise.”

I bit my lip. “It’s a prediction.”

He looked down at the floor and then back up at me with a contrived smile. “I’ll take what I can get.”

Chapter Eight

I FROWNED as Julianne pinned the maroon graduation cap onto my head. It was square and awkward, and it didn’t make me feel accomplished at all.

“Whose idea was it to wear hats that make us look stupid on a day when we’re supposed to feel smart?” I asked.

Julianne chuckled.

Sam crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorjamb. “I think you look very beautiful and incredibly smart.”

I offered a small smile. “Thanks.”

“I’m surprised you can fit your brain into that cap,” Sam added, pushing up his round tortoise shell glasses.

A single laugh burst from Julianne’s mouth, and then she pressed her lips together, shaking her head as she continued to place pins in my hair.

“Very funny,” I said, trying hard not to laugh, too.

Julianne kissed my cheek. “All done,” she said, walking to stand next to her husband.

Sam held Julianne against his side.

My mother held her fingers to her mouth and then rested her temple against Sam’s shoulder. “Look at her.”

“I’m looking,” Sam said quietly.

Their expressions were that mixture of happy and sad that I’d become accustomed to from witnessing them simultaneously mourning the daughter they had lost and celebrating the daughter they had found.

Julianne’s cell phone rang, and she answered with a chipper voice, “Hi, Veronica.” Her voice immediately lowered to a whisper, and she ducked into the hallway. “I don’t…yes, she’s here. I don’t know. I’m sure she could, but…okay. Of course. Of course. Bye.” She returned to the room, her eyes dancing between Sam and me. “Weston’s…not doing well.”

“His asthma?” I asked, taking a step.

She shook her head.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked.

“He’s upset,” Julianne said.

I knew what she meant, and apparently, so did Sam because his eyes lit with realization.

“I don’t know how to make him feel better. I’ve tried,” I said.

“I’m not sure anyone can,” Sam said. “It’s something he might have to work out on his own.”

“He was thinking about enrolling at OSU,” I said.

“He what?” Sam said, pushing from the doorjamb to stand straight.

“Then, he asked me to enroll at the University of North Texas. It’s less than an hour from the Art Institute of Dallas.”

Julianne glanced at Sam before looking back at me. “Is that what you want?”

After some hesitation, I shook my head. “No. I want to go to OSU.”

“Then, you shouldn’t change your mind,” Sam said.

I picked at my nails. “He made good points. He said that UNT offers the same programs, but there’s not a comparable art school near OSU. Since I haven’t decided on a major, he doesn’t understand why I won’t switch schools.”