A small smile tugged on his lips. “Grandpa is cool. I like his cars.”
I didn’t want to see my parents, but I’d do it for Corey. I just needed to set clear boundaries. Any opinions about my lifestyle or my choices were off limits.
“He’s the reason I got into cars.” There were good memories. When I was younger, there wasn’t as much pressure to be the person Mom wanted me to be. I could just…be.
When we arrive back home, Corey hid out in his room.
I sat on the couch in the dark, feeling bereft. I felt Hailey’s absence at my parents’, even though she never spent any time with them. Spending the weekend together only served to make me want her more.
Was it a good idea to get in any deeper when Corey’s—no,myfuture was up in the air? I couldn’t imagine what it would feel like if Corey wasn’t living with me anymore. Would I travel more often to see him? Would I move to be with him? What if I couldn’t be there for Hailey?
None of this was fair to her. We hadn’t even told her brother about us. I knew what was holding me back. If we had no future, what was the point of telling her brother? Why hurt both of them?
I felt incredibly selfish starting anything with Hailey when I might need to move.
I wanted to call her and tell her what happened with my parents. I needed her sweet words of encouragement, her assurance I hadn’t done anything wrong, but I couldn’t. It wasn’t fair to her.
ChapterTwenty-Four
HAILEY
Driving to my first creative writing course, I was excited yet scared to be back inside a classroom. I’d enjoyed school, but this was college. Would I fit in? I was older than the usual just-graduated-from-high-school student.
The other thing that had me on edge was that I hadn’t heard much from Ryan after our weekend together. I’d hit a high where I was literally floating in the clouds, but in the days since, I’d slowly drifted to the ground. The lack of communication took the wind out of my sails a little more each day.
I mentally shook my head as I parked in the large parking lot of the college. This place was huge compared to my high school. I’d probably get lost in the sea of eager faces.
I’d brought a tote, not wanting to use a traditional book bag. I wasn’t going to college. I told myself I was taking one course for fun. It didn’t have to mean anything. I just wanted to see if I’d like it.
But the closer I got to the building, the more I wondered if I could string all my ideas together to form a complete story.
My notebook felt magical. As if every idea on that page could come to life if only I knew how to put it together.
I made my way through the maze of classrooms to mine. The room was already full of people chatting and laughing. It seemed like most people already knew each other. My stomach sank a little as I sat in the back of class, feeling a little like an imposter.
When the teacher stood at the podium, the students sat, and I breathed a sigh of relief. She went over the course syllabus and what to expect.
When she finally put the papers down, she became more animated, talking about why she’d become a teacher. She’d always wanted to be a writer but never took any formal English or writing classes. She didn’t take her passion seriously until a few years ago.
I got lost in her description of how she learned to write, starting with dialogue, something called beats, and character arcs. It was fascinating and overwhelming.
I left feeling energized. If she could pick up writing later in life, I could, too. I wasn’t even starting that late compared to her. The only difference was I didn’t exactly have a job that could support my writing career in the meantime.
Or maybe it would only ever be a hobby. That was the only thought that dimmed my happiness. I wanted it to be more.
On the way home, I called Ryan, wanting to talk to him about it.
“Hello,” Ryan said.
My heart ached at hearing his familiar voice. Excited to share with him, I said, “I just got out of class.”
There was a beat of silence and then he asked, “Class?”
My stomach sank. Had he forgotten? “You remember that creative writing class I signed up for?”
He let out a breath. “Oh, right. I completely forgot with everything going on.”
I could practically see him running his hands through his hair.