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No pressure, no force—it’s a new phenomenon for me.

Logan might be the easiest person to talk to. His kindness gives me courage—and desire. “I’d like to tell you… if you want to hear.” Saying it aloud is freeing. I do want to tell him. After years of keeping Amelia’s secret, I’m ready to share, but not with Dad, or Ben, or even Mom.

Truthfully, I can only imagine telling Logan this secret.

He grins, and my heart thrums a little harder. “Yeah. Okay.” He points his fork at me. “Dinner?”

My cheeks swell, and every inch of my insides goes warm. “It’s a date.”

Nineteen

Assisting Rachel in her work is a bit of an understatement. Rendezvous hasn’t been able to entice a guidance counselor to accept a job in over two years—so Rachel and Amelia were two people doing the work of four. The senior class this year has eight graduating students. A counselor would help them fill out college applications and scholarship forms. Most of these were already done by Amelia, but there are still a few students needing assistance. RHS also requires a meeting with underclassmen to plan their schedule for the next year.

I walk in the door and Rachel puts me to work as if I’d been doing this job my whole life. Somehow, instead of drowning, I’m learning to swim in Rachel’s world, and I’m not terrible at it.

At the end of my first day, I’m interviewing a redhead I recognize. “You’re Roy’s friend, right?”

He nods.

Yeah, the quiet friend.

“I’ve met so many people. I’ve misplaced your name.”

He smiles, his lips tight, but the glasses on his face push up with the gesture. “Andrew,” he says in a raspy voice.

“That’s right.” I flip through my remaining files. “Andrew Peterman, here you are.” This is my fourth progress report interview, first for college assistance. Still, I’m settling in. “You’re a senior, but you haven’t filled out any applications for college or scholarships?”

With his hands in his lap, Andrew shakes his head.

“Okay.” My forehead furrows. “I’m confused. I have your grades right here. You’re a good student. Don’t you want to attend college?” If only I had reading glasses and a bun on top of my head—I’d feel like such an authority. While, in reality, there are what, four, maybe five years separating me and this boy I counsel.

“Miss Benson⁠—”

I clear my throat. “Please, call me Livy.”

Clearly, I’m no authority. No one has ever called me Miss Benson.

His thin lips part into a grin once more as his freckled face lights up. “Livy. It’s just… I want to be a welder, like my dad. He can teach me what I need to know.”

“Ah…” I know nothing about welding. “Don’t you think an education is important? I promise you, you’ll be more successful in whatever profession you choose if you have an education. I don’t care what you do, school will help you.” Huh. Maybe I am an authority. That wasn’t a bad speech.

Andrew lifts one shoulder and says nothing.

“You would easily qualify for the… the…” I flip through another stack of paperwork Rachel handed me when she threw me into this pool.

“Hathaway,” Andrew says.

“Yes, the Hathaway.” Okay… maybe I don’t really know what I’m talking about. But I do believe in education. And Rachel hired me to help. So— “What does your dad think? About college, I mean.”

“He says I can decide.”

“Okay.” Lucky Andrew. “I want you to take this application. Fill it out. If you end up not using the scholarship, that’s fine, but will you fill it out for me?”

Quiet, he nods.

“And Andrew,” I say, not ready to give up just yet. “Can you come back and see me tomorrow morning?”

He nods again, shoves both hands into his pockets, and shuffles from the room.