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I skipped the final two weeks of History class. I contacted Ms. Henry and explained to her that I was feeling ill, and because I passed my final she excused the absences, wishing me the best. I only had a couple of other classes that I had to show up for, but I managed to catch only the briefest of glimpses of Brett. Well, except for the one time I walked past him flirting with Stacey Baker at her locker.

If it wasn’t for Grace yanking me down the hall I would have slapped the bitch.

I didn’t see Brett again until graduation. We were seated and called up alphabetically, so I got to watch him accept his diploma. I don’t think he was around by the time I accepted mine, but I was trying hard not to look for him.

My mother flew in from New York to celebrate with me and my dad. My dad managed to sober up for twenty-four hours, long enough to suffer through a dinner with us, but he still looked like shit. His eyes were red and bloodshot, and his skin had a scary yellow tint. He looked at my mother as if he adored her, as if she was the world to him. It was hard for me to look my mother in the eye without snarling at her. I hated her for what she did.

“Are you excited, Amanda?” My mother asked, sipping from her second glass of red wine. “I do wish you would reconsider pursuing theater. We could share an apartment and save on the

rent.”

I shuddered at the thought of sharing an apartment with my mother and wished I had something stronger than the cherry coke I was stuck with. She had insisted that my father treat us with dinner at the most expensive restaurant in the city. I would have been happy with a congratulatory burger and milkshake.

“New York just doesn’t appeal to me. I’m looking forward to sunny California,” I said and suppressed my grin as my mother pursed her ruby lips.

“Well, at least you’re getting out of this city. I couldn’t live with myself if you were trapped in this…” My mother waved her hand in the air and for the first time in my life I witnessed my father narrowing his eyes at her.

“It’s not that bad,” my father said defensively.

“Yeah, it’s not that bad,” I said, supporting my dad.

“Oh, please,” my mother rolled her eyes and sighed. “If it wasn’t bad, you’d be staying. Wouldn’t you, Amanda?”

I shrugged my shoulders and slumped back in my chair.

My mother nodded her head knowingly. “There’s nothing for you here.”

“Grace is still here.” And Brett. “Actually, I’m thinking of staying to see her have her baby. I feel kind of shitty taking off on her. Carson hasn’t been around…”

“Amanda, the longer you stay, the harder it will be to leave,” my mother said. “Trust me on this. I know Grace is your best friend, but she’s made her bed. You can’t let her mistake hold you back.”

I frowned at her. “Her baby isn’t a mistake.”

“Kitty…” my father said reproachfully.

My mother just rolled her eyes and took another sip of her wine. “Regardless, we’ve already purchased your tickets and secured your accommodations.”

“You have?” I said, taken aback and looking towards my father for confirmation. He gravely nodded his head.

“It’s all been taken care of,” my mother said, and reached for her Hermès purse. She extracted a small folder and slid it across the table to me.

I looked down at the folder like it might grow teeth and try to bite my hand.

“Open it. It’s all there,” my mother encouraged me. I felt sick to my stomach.

Over the past couple of weeks I had been plagued with doubt and indecision. Going to California had always been the plan, and it was easy to stick with what I knew and say I was still going to do it. But saying it was not the same as actually doing it. And now that I had the means, the tickets and the encouragement to go, I was finding it difficult to put my money where my mouth was.

Just seeing Brett earlier had stirred up all the pain and hurt feelings. It took all the strength I had to keep from running up to him and hugging him to death. The past couple of weeks had been pure hell.

I missed him. My heart ached for him with every beat. He filled every other thought inside my head. The only reason I had yet to go crawling back to him was because I was terrified he’d reject me. I didn’t even want to imagine what I would do if that happened. My heart wouldn’t survive it. So I was biding my time, waiting on my feelings to settle, trying to figure out how to apologize and tell him all I wanted was him.

Two weeks in the same town was driving me crazy. Could I even handle going out to California? The trip might kill me.

“Go on, honey,” my father gently encouraged me. I couldn’t deny my dad.

I reached out and flipped the folder open. Inside were keys to my studio apartment and directions on how to get there. The bills for the utilities. And my one-way plane ticket to LA.

“Tomorrow?” I said in disbelief as I read the dates on the plane ticket. “Don’t you think you’re kind of rushing this?”


Tags: Izzy Sweet, Sean Moriarty Pounding Hearts Romance