Page 108 of Timid (Lark Cove 2)

“What kind of job do you want?” Dad asked.

“My options are limited. I don’t want to take a job where they’d be counting on me to work for longer than a few months. So it doesn’t leave much. I was thinking maybe seasonal holiday work. I bet I could find something at the mall for Christmas.”

Though I doubted I’d be all that good in a retail shop. I wasn’t exactly the outgoing salesperson type. But a holiday job would get me through January. Then I’d only have a few months to wait until things picked back up at the camp.

“I don’t know.” I picked at the crust of my sandwich. “I’ll start looking and see what’s open.”

Footsteps echoed down the empty hallway, and out of habit, Dad and I both turned to stare at the door.

When Jackson passed by with an angry scowl on his face, I nearly fell out of my seat. What was he doing at school? Was there a problem with Ryder?

Before I flew out of my chair, Dad was off his, walking to the door to call Jackson into his classroom.

Jackson followed Dad into the room, looking tired and worried. The moment he saw me, a smile tugged at his lips, but then it fell.

That’s what always happened. It was like he forgot for a second to be disappointed with my presence.

My goodness, it hurt.

“Hi.” I waved, not getting up.

“Hey.” He came over and bent to kiss me on the cheek.

He hadn’t kissed me on the lips since the night I’d asked him if he loved me, not even when we were in bed together. He kissed me everywhere else—the forehead, my neck, on top of my hair—but not the lips.

Every kiss on the cheek made my heart sink. It put more distance between us. He was standing right by my side, but he might as well be orbiting around a different sun.

All because I’d asked him one silly question.

Do you love me?

No. No, he did not.

And pathetic, stupid, naïve me didn’t care. I stayed with him anyway.

“So what brings you here?” Dad asked Jackson, though he was staring at me. The worry on his face made my heart ache even more.

Jackson rubbed his jaw and sighed. “Had a meeting with Ryder’s teachers.”

“Is everything okay?” I asked.

“No. He’s behind the other kids. They said we need to start thinking about holding him back a grade.”

“What?” I gasped. “But it’s only November. The school year’s not even halfway over yet. Why would they want to talk about that now?” My last question was aimed at Dad.

“How far behind is he?” Dad asked Jackson.

“Far enough that they don’t think there’s any way to catch up.”

“Sorry,” Dad said. “I didn’t r

ealize.”

How would he? He wasn’t Ryder’s teacher; otherwise he would have given us a heads-up much sooner.

“Is there anything we can do?” I asked.

“No.” Jackson sighed. “There’s nothing I can do.”