Now she’s silent.
Gripping the back of my neck, I turn on the people entering the room to avoid their curious stares. “I didn’t want to mention it before, but she started at Lindon this fall.”
A small breath comes from the other end of the phone. “I-I had no clue. Wow. Her parents…”
“I don’t think much has changed between them,” I reply grimly, clenching the phone tight in my hands. “Which is exactly why I doubt she’ll want to come home with me. I know for damn sure she has nowhere else to go though.”
Mom’s heart gets the best of her like it always does in situations like these. She’s had a soft spot for Ivy since the day I invited her inside. Ivy’s first bakeware set was bought for her birthday by my mother. For Christmas, Mom bought her recipe books. Ivy admitted she had to hide them because her mother didn’t like her getting things from people, and I didn’t realize until much later that it was because her family couldn’t afford anything themselves. Birthdays were no more than a birthday card and song and Christmases were whatever they could scrape together for candy-stuffed stockings and a couple toys under the tree. “That poor girl. Nobody should spend a holiday alone, Aiden. What can we do?”
“There’s nothing we can do. Look, I need to get to class but I’ll talk to her
later. She’s been staying with me and the guys for a little while. Maybe keep this to yourself for now, okay?”
“Aiden—”
“You know what Dad will say.”
He’ll tell me I need to focus on football, not women. He’s not wrong, but Ivy isn’t some co-ed I have class with or see at parties on occasion, and they both know it. That’s probably why Dad would worry I’d get distracted. You can’t let people who mean nothing to you get inside your head because none of them matter.
Ivy does.
She always has.
She reluctantly agrees. “Fine. If she doesn’t want to come here, I’ll understand. We can figure something else out.”
She’d want to?
As if she can read my mind, she says, “I never understood why her parents were so resigned with her. It always made me so angry. She was such a sweet girl, Aiden. You know how much I adored her. I doubt that’s changed any, but time…it can certainly impact a person.”
My jaw ticks. “For now, wait until I let you know what she wants before you bring it up to Dad. And don’t tell her parents, I know you still talk to them.”
There’s another momentary pause. “I ask about her, you know. But they never have anything much to say. That’s all we talk about in passing because somebody needs to ask about her in this town.”
I don’t know what to say to that.
“I’m glad she has you again, baby boy. She needs someone in her corner. That was always you for her, and I’m glad it’s no different now. Fate has a funny way of reminding us what’s important in life, doesn’t it?”
Squeezing my neck before nodding a few times, I click my tongue. “I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”
“I love you, Aiden.”
“Love you too.”
When I click the END button, I stare at the blank screen for a minute before sliding it into my back pocket and heading inside as the professor goes through attendance.
I already know what Ivy is going to say when I tell her about Thanksgiving, which means I need to convince her—tell her to think of herself for once. But I feel for her situation. If I were in her shoes I wouldn’t want to go back to that place either.
Someone bumps my arm, and I look up to see Caleb looking at me with pinched brows. He mouths, You good?
I can only manage to nod, paying attention to the lesson and telling myself I’ll figure shit out with Ivy when I get home. But the infectious woman with a fiery personality consumes me like always.
Some people grow from the chaos because that’s how they survive, and others thrive in it because chaos is all they know.
Ivy does both.
But being a survivor doesn’t mean she’ll want to come back to the house that holds most of our memories, and the more I think about it, the more I realize I’m not sure I want that either. We’re building new ones together that could mean ten times more if she’ll let it.
This is why I’m Chaos, she’d once said.