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“What are you doing?” Autumn asked.
“Calling Connor.”
She was already shaking her head. “Why…? No. I can’t ask him for five hundred dollars.”
“You’re not. I am.”
“No, it’s too much.”
I ignored her. The phone was ringing. “Come with me now,” I told Autumn. “Get your bag. Let’s go.”
“But I can’t—”
“This is plan B,” I said, putting my arm around her, helping her to her feet. She smelled like cinnamon and apples. She was soft and small under my hand.
I led her to my parked car and opened the passenger door for her.
“Hey,” Connor answered, as I helped Autumn in.
“Are you home?”
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“I’m with Autumn. Her dad is sick. She needs a flight to Nebraska and a ride to Logan.”
“Her dad is sick?”
“Heart attack. He’s in surgery now.”
“Goddamn. Hold on, let me get my laptop.”
I climbed behind the wheel, fumbling my seatbelt with one hand as I juggled my phone
Autumn’s voice was breathy and high. “Weston…”
“It’s going to be okay,” I said, starting my car, which, by some miracle, turned over on the first try.
Autumn turned away, elbow on the window ledge and forehead in her palm, fighting back tears. Caught in the no man’s land between pride and hope. The same war I fought every time the Drakes bailed my mother out of one catastrophe or another.
/> I pulled away from the curb and Autumn’s phone rang.
“Oh God, it’s my mother. Hello? Mom? How is he, what’s happening?”
Don’t let it be too late, I prayed to any god that would listen. Please, she has to see him.
“He is? Okay. Yes, I’m coming tonight. Right now.” She glanced at me. “My friend is helping me. I’m on my way. Okay, love you. See you soon.”
I blew out a breath of relief as Connor came back on my phone. I told him about the flight I’d found. By the time I screeched to a stop in front of our place, he’d booked the ticket and was waiting outside, jacket and keys in hand, the Hellcat idling at the curb. Autumn burst out of my car and flew up the walk. Connor was already striding to meet her. He wrapped his arms around her and they held each other tight.
I exhaled the story of my life, killed the engine and got out.
“Hey, it’s okay.” Connor stroked Autumn’s hair as she buried her face against his chest, her shoulders shaking. “It’s going to be all right. You’ll be home in a few hours. You’ll be right there with him. It’s okay.”
He met my eye over her head and said again, “It’s okay.” And a week’s worth of awkwardness between us blew away.
“I’ll pay you back,” Autumn was saying.
“Hell no,” Connor said. “Don’t worry about it. It’s done.”
