“She didn’t want you to know. She’s turning down the nomination, because Evans isn’t anywhere near the schools you’re looking at.” Nate’s lip curled. “No decent football schools in the area.”
I covered my eyes with one hand. “Fuck.”
“You need to think about her future. Not just how it relates to yours.” Nate’s voice softened. “Quinn used to be this quirky, happy person who didn’t care what people thought of her. She was ... justher. And now she’s not. It’s like I said, Leo. You ruined her.”
“That’s bullshit, Nate. I love her. I’d never—”
The front door slammed, and we both turned as my dad came in. “Boys.” He frowned at both of us, and I thought distractedly that he looked tired. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Nate’s just leaving.” I walked toward the door, and after a minute, Nate followed.
Just before I slammed the door behind him, he turned back for a minute. “Think about it, Leo. If you love her like you say you do, if you want her to be happy ... think about it. In the long run, what’s the kinder thing to do?” He gazed at me, eyes steady, and then stepped awkwardly down the steps of our porch.
“What was all that about?” My dad was in the kitchen when I went in, opening and closing cabinets at random. It was his nightly ritual; I suspected he thought one night he might come home to find a meal magically prepared. We’d eaten so much pizza and Chinese takeout since my mom had been in the hospital that just thinking about that food made me queasy.
I dropped into a chair. “Nate thinks I should break up with Quinn. He says I’m not making her happy.”
“Ah.” My father nodded.
“That’s all you have to say?”
Dad sighed and sat down across from me. “Leo, son, I’m not surprised Nate thinks that. Matter of fact, I’m only surprised it took him this long to say it. And I’m sorry that he thinks you’re not making Quinn happy.”
“But ...?”
My father smiled a little. “But. But I’ve been planning to talk with you for a while about Quinn and what you planned to do. Listen, Leo. I like Quinn. Hell, I love her like the daughter you were supposed to be.” He smirked at his own joke. “And I know you kids think you’re in love. But you’re young. God, you’re so damn young. You, particularly, have the kind of future ahead of you that would make maintaining a long-term relationship at this point ... difficult, if not impossible. You’ll end up putting stress on yourself and on Quinn that neither of you needs. And in the end, the result might be a lot messier and more painful that it would be to just end it now.”
Panic gripped me. “But I don’t want to break up with Quinn, and she doesn’t want to break up with me.”
Dad cocked his head. “That’s what you tell yourself, but I’ve noticed a change in you lately. And if I notice it, you can be damn sure Quinn does. I think maybe there’s a part of you that already knows what you have to do, and that part is making decisions to force the issue.”
My throat was tight. “So you think—what do you think I should do?”
My dad got to his feet and patted my shoulder. “I’m not going to tell you that, son. I think you’re smart enough to figure it out.” He paused before he left the room.
“But I’m here if you need me. Remember that.”
I didn’t sleep well that night.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Quinn’s face. I heard her voice. I felt her body under mine.
And then I heard Nate’s words, and my father’s, too. I wanted to stop hearing them. I wanted to forget what they’d said. They were both wrong, I knew they were. They had to be. Quinn and I were right together. We belonged with each other. We’d both made that clear.
But I thought about what my dad had said. College was going to be hard. College football was going to be a full-time job, if I wanted to get into the pros. How would I juggle that along with making Quinn happy, if I couldn’t even manage to do that when we were only in high school?
And Quinn wanted to be a writer, wanted to be a journalist. Was I justified in denying her that chance, just because I needed to go to a college that would help funnel me into the pros? She could still study journalism wherever we went to school, and I was sure that was what she’d tell me if I brought up the scholarship. But we’d both know that she’d be giving up something huge. For me.
Everything went around in my head, until the sun rose. By then, I’d given up. I knew what I had to do. It was going to kill me, but I knew I had to do it.
I walked into the school the next morning, feeling oddly removed. Everything around me seemed far away, and not quite real. People spoke to me, but I had trouble responding. I was only focused on getting through the day.
I hadn’t heard from Quinn, and I hadn’t texted her again. I made a point of avoiding her during the school day; I came in a little late, I didn’t go to the cafeteria at lunch, and I went right to practice after school.
After practice, I didn’t stop to chat with anyone. I walked down the hallway, straight to the newspaper office and stuck my head inside.
Quinn was there, of course, sitting with Jake and Gia and two other people I knew only vaguely. They all looked up when they saw me. Quinn’s eyes brightened for a moment and then shuttered, as though she’d remembered our last conversation.
“Hey, Quinn. You got a minute?” I couldn’t believe how normal my voice sounded.
