“No.” I shift in my seat. “I don’t expect you to be happy about any of it. I expect you to hate me.Ihated me. I still do. I blew up everything and hurt people who didn’t deserve it just to try to fill a hole in my chest that won’t go away.”
Her eyes flick over my face, searching for the lie, and whatever she sees there makes her jaw tighten. “Shit, Jamie—” she mutters.
I risk it and tell her more of my truth. “You’re the only thing that’s ever felt real to me. That night, you broke something open in me, and I’ve been looking for it ever since. I never found it because I think it’s you. I think you’re the family I’ve been missing.”
She’s silent for a beat, and I know I’ve gone too far, but I don’t regret it.
Tiff swallows, her eyes locked on mine.
“I don’t know what to say.”
She looks down for half a second, then back up.
“I didn’t mean to upset you. I just needed you to understand where I’m coming from. I’m going to fight for this.”
She doesn’t speak. She just watches me.
“I’m going to fight for you and Ella.” I stop, searching for the right words. “I know what it’s like to feel lost and have no one there to fight for you. I’m never letting you fight alone again.”
Her breath catches, and I feel the air shift between us. It’s heavy and charged now. Her gaze drops to my mouth for a split-second. Then she exhales slowly. I don’t know how it happens, but there’s a moment when she starts to lean in, close enough that her breath brushes against my mouth.
I don’t move; I just watch her and pretend my heart isn’t beating out of my chest.
Is she going to kiss me?
Then she pulls back. Her walls snap back into place, and she clears her throat.
“I’ll let you meet her.”
It takes a second for me to process her words because my head’s still spinning from nearly kissing her again.
“W-what?”
“You want a chance?” She looks down at me, eyes sharp but not unkind. “Then you can come to peewee football tomorrow. You played football with Zach, right?”
I manage a crooked grin, trying to catch my breath. “I think we both know I warmed the bench.”
“Whatever.” She stands, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “You’ll be better than me. That’s the important thing. Show up. Don’t make a fool of yourself, and we’ll see if you’re worth it.”
The simplicity of the offer—this fragile olive branch—nearly knocks me sideways. “I’ll be there,” I promise. “You won’t regret it.”
She tightens her grip on her bag. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Jamie. I’ve had enough of those to last a lifetime.”
I nod, the weight of her warning settling in my chest. “No promises. Just actions from now on.”
“Actions,” she echoes. “Starting tomorrow. Four o’clock. Don’t be late.”
I watch her walk away, her steps purposeful, her shoulders straight. Only when she disappears through the quad do I let myself exhale, a mixture of hope and terror swirling in my chest.
One chance. That’s all I have, and this time, I’m going to make it count.
Chapter 10
I step out of the lecture hall with my head spinning and my soul partially crushed. My new professor kept me fifteen minutes later than necessary. She claims it’s because I joined the class late, so I need to make up for it. I think it’s more likely that she hates me.
She knows I can't keep up, and more importantly, that I won’t be able to skate by on minimal effort and maximum charm. Although, let's be clear. I've never had much charm. Never needed it, but now, without any paid note-takers or my family connections, I'm going to have to actually work. The thought is so foreign to me it nearly gives me vertigo.
“—and for those of you just joining us this semester,” she said, her tone dry as sandpaper, “I suggest doubling your study effortsto catch up. I don’t repeat myself. I don’t believe in second chances.”