Somebody who’s still not Noah.
When I turn, Bridger is watching. Not with pity. With understanding.
“You did good,” he tells me.
“I didwell,” I say, forcing a laugh, but my eyes begin to water. “Not really, though.”
And that’s when I realize today hasn’t been about my move or the lost summer school position, or about my fainting. It isn’t about my father or cheeseburgers, either. It’s about the moment Bridger Adams saw how hard things are for me.
And he didn’t look away.
Chapter Five
Bridger
Loren wouldn’t let me drive her home.
She said she wanted to stick around after dinner and watch a movie with her dad. So I left her to get a ride share later. Which makes me …
Not happy.
While I wait to hear that she’s home safe, my brain is a tornado of thoughts. About trusts and conditions and money that could solve so many problems. My mind won’t power down. Even a little bit. So I lie on my back, staring at the ceiling, cataloging every crack in the drywall. If I do this long enough, maybe they’ll morph into letters that spell out answers to the question running through my head:
How can I get Loren to let me help her?
They don’t. Answer me, I mean. Or even morph, for that matter. And as it turns out, there’s no easy solution on the periodic table, either. No element for “fix everything.” Believe me, I looked.
When the moon’s high enough to shine through the window, my phone buzzes with a text, interrupting …notsleep.
LOREN
Home safe. Lionel and his Honda were a delight.
Me
I would’ve stayed.
LOREN
I’m aware. And thanks for taking no for an answer. We watched Beauty and the Beast.
ME
You and Lionel?
LOREN
Ha ha ha. The movie was magnificent as always. Minus some mild crying at the end. Just me. Not my dad. But you can stop worrying about me now. I’m good.
That last part is highly doubtful, but I’m not going to debate this with her.
ME
My worry isn’t entirely unfounded, for the record.
LOREN
After what you told me today, I’m worried about you too TBH.