AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It's not that having her here was the worst thing in the world, even though the two of us literally didn't say a single word to each other. It was honestly kind of nice, not being alone all day like I expected. However, there's no chance in hell I'm admitting that to him. He'll think that his meddling in my life is okay. It's not, and neither is Paige's.
I pour the steaming hot coffee into the cup and blow on it as I walk toward the bathroom to shower. Just as I get to the door though, Carter snickers.
"I may have had something to do with her being here, but I don't think that blanket magically floated out of our closet and covered her on its own."
My jaw clenches, and it takes everything in me not to react as I shake my head and step into the bathroom.
Busted.
THERE ARE A FEW things that come with getting kicked out of a university. For one, it's living in that dorm room with Carter. The whole thing is smaller than my bedroom at home. It's definitely not enough space for two guys to live together in—especially if that other guy is Carter. He had a girl over the other night, and I couldn't sleep because even across the suite-style dorm, all I could hear was his headboard banging against the wall.
Another thing is having to do all my own grocery shopping. When we lived in the penthouse, there were people we could call for that. We simply told them what we were craving, and they took care of it. Unfortunately, the only way we were able to maintain access to our trust funds was to promise that we would live like normal college kids. That includes going to the store ourselves.
Carter and I have made it a routine to alternate who has to go. And unfortunately for me, it's my week this time. So, I grab the list and head to the store in the middle of North Haven.
Walking down the chip aisle, I grab two bags of each kind I like and throw it in a cart. It probably looks like I'm throwing a party, which wouldn't be a bad idea, but that's not it at all. I'm just snatching everything I see that makes my mouth water, because I’m hungry.
As I go to turn the corner, my cart comes inches from crashing into someone else's. For a second, I'm annoyed. Can't you watch where you're fucking going? It's a grocery store, not the Kentucky Derby. We'll all get our stuff and get out.
"Jace?" a familiar voice asks.
I look up, and my eyes widen as I come face to face with Mrs. McAllister—Paige's mom. I'm not sure which is more surprising, the fact that she's here in sweatpants and not a two-thousand-dollar dress, or that she's grocery shopping in general. Regardless, my mom always taught me never to be rude.
"Hi, Mrs. McAllister," I greet her. "How are you?"
She smiles warmly at me, the same way she always did. "I'm great, honey. How are you doing?"
"I can't complain too much. Just normal college kid stuff."
It's so far from the truth, it's laughable, but I'm not about to tell her the truth. Not even an ounce of it. I keep that shit tucked away, hidden under lock and key.
"You always were such a good kid," she tells me. "I'm so glad you and Paige reconnected. She really needs to get out of the house more."
"Oh, we didn—"
"Do me a favor? Try to get her to live her life a little more. I know she's trying to be helpful, but her father's illness can't be easy on her, and I don't want to see her throw everything away. Peyton wouldn't either."
My brows furrow. "Mr. McAllister is sick?"
"O-oh," she stutters. "I'm so sorry. I thought you knew. I figured she told you. I mean, she was with you all night last night."
I shake my head. "Only because she fell asleep on my couch. What's wrong with him?"
If it were anyone else, I wouldn't care half as much as I do now. But I've known Mr. McAllister since I was a kid, and he's always been nothing but nice to me. Hell, the man even taught me how to play football, when my dad was too busy flying to all parts of the world instead of being a father.
Mrs. McAllister frowns as she drops her head. " Stage four lung cancer. We've reached the point of palliative care."
Tears spring to my eyes as I think about someone as caring and devoted as he is, being cursed with something as horrible as cancer. When I was a child, I watched the disease take my grandfather. I can still remember it to this day, the way he ended up half the size he normally was, and didn't even have the strength to get out of bed in the morning. It was horrible. And to think that is happening to Mr. McAllister—it's not fair.
"I'm so sorry to hear that," I tell her honestly. "He's a good man. He doesn't deserve that."
"No, he doesn't. But cancer doesn't discriminate." Her attention gets caught on a small pack of butterscotch pudding, and for the first time since we've been standing here, a real smile spreads across her face. She reaches over and takes it into her hands. "You know, I always used to lecture him about the sugar content in this stuff, and how bad it was for him. But he didn't care. He loved it anyway."
Just as a tear slips down her cheek, she puts the pudding into her cart.
"Always eat the pudding, Jace. Life's too short not to."
With that, she walks away with just a small pat on my shoulder. I watch her as she goes down the aisle, not grabbing anything else, and disappears. It isn't until she's gone that it makes sense.
