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Kendall
Actions speak louder than words.
All morning, I can’t get the thought out of my head. The trite phrase is like an incessant knock on a door that can’t be opened. One monumental teenage mistake and it doesn’t matter what I might say or how sorry I am. Not that I would ever excuse my actions. I take full responsibility for driving under the influence. But to be judged so harshly without the slightest possibility of understanding cuts to the bone.
This has always been a private matter. I mean, not private, private, obviously. I grew up in a small town. Everyone there knew what happened. Everyone formed opinions, a few of them compassionate, but most of them hurtful, and they knew me. They knew Mason. The thought of random strangers knowing my business makes it difficult to breathe.
But knowing this about myself—knowing my limits—doesn’t help lessen the hollow ache in my chest. This isn’t only about me. It’s about Mason and his parents. My family. And it’s about Vaughn. The single worthwhile thing I can do right now is make sure his reputation stays intact. If it’s not America Rocks, it will be another show, I’ve no doubt of that. Which means I have to let him go, because as much as walking away from him hurts, harming him in any way—even by association—would hurt worse. I’ve been there. Done that. With Mason.
I’m crushed, despite all the lip service I paid to this thing with Vaughn being strictly temporary. This morning’s shower consisted of one giant cryfest. I thought I’d cried him right out of my system by the time I’d dressed and dragged myself to work, but nope. I dry the corners of my puffy red eyes with a tissue then stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. It’s not me I see, but Vaughn’s father’s outraged face. I hear him tell his son, You have some crazy idea there’s an expiration date on something like this. There’s not. Do you honestly think America’s going to find nobility in her struggle?
The last thing I want is to damage Vaughn’s reputation and career because of his relationship with me so, ironically, this puts me on the same side as his father. How he found out about the accident, I don’t know. I was a minor. My record sealed. It feels so incredibly awful to have someone pry into my personal life because…what? He wants only the best for his son. Someone who offers advantages, and enhances his image, and I’m not that girl. My actions have doomed me in his eyes and will no doubt ruin me in others, too.
I toss the tissue into the trash and wipe at my cheeks with the pads of my fingers. I should have called in sick today. It isn’t a stretch. I feel battered from the inside out, infected by something I can’t shake, and vaguely contagious. Touch me at your own risk.
“Kendall?” Candace says from the other side of the door. “Are you okay in there?”
I close my eyes. “Yes. I’ll be right out.” Swallowing the emotions thickening the back of my throat, I pull myself together.
Candace is waiting for me when I step into the hallway.
“Sorry about that. So where were we?” I walk around her, embarrassed by my moment of weakness when she asked if I’d had fun at the album release party last night, and I’d made a run for the bathroom rather than discuss Vaughn.
I sit at the side desk in the reception area while Candace resumes her spot behind the welcome workstation.
“I’m guessing from your reaction that something happened with your boyfriend?”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I’m quick to correct. “Just a friend, and can we talk about something else?” Anything else.
“All right. How about making your job permanent?”
My jaw drops. “What?”
“I know your plan is to attend law school, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t let you know how much I value having you here and wish you would stay. I think we make a great team, and I sense you do, too. You’re fabulous with the kids, and they feel comfortable with you. I’d love to design a class for you, love to get you more personally involved in art therapy, and of course continue to have your administrative assistance. You’re far more organized than I am.” She smiles. “Sold yet?”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll think about it?”
I’m at a loss for words. I break eye contact to look around the room, at this special place that in a very short time has come to mean something to me. This is exactly what I wanted. A viable alternative to law school.
“You’ve mentioned your aunt and uncle are here, but know I am, too. The job is yours when summer ends, if you want it.”
I’m going to cry again. Damn it. That she sees such potential in me lifts me from the low I’ve struggled with for the past few hours. I’m not a liability here. I have value. Not in spite of my past, but because of it.
All of a sudden, I know what I have to do. “Thank you for having so much faith in me. I think a trip home will help me sort things out. Your belief in me means a lot, but I need to have a couple of face-to-face conversations to figure out if I can pursue this opportunity without feeling guilty or letting anyone down. Is it okay to take the rest of the day off if I can get a flight?”
“Absolutely.”
I stand, walk over, and give her a hug. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Whatever decision you make, you’ve connected with the students here and for that, I’m grateful.”
She couldn’t have said anything that would have meant more to me. A human connection—that’s what we all crave, isn’t it?
I reserve an early afternoon flight so have zero time to go home first, which is fine, since the last thing I want is to risk a run-in with Vaughn. He’s texted me, asking to talk, but I haven’t responded yet. I need time to get my thoughts organized.
An Uber picks me up from the studio and forty-five minutes later, I’m at the airport, anxious to get in the air and unplug for a few hours. I call my mom from the terminal to let her know I’m coming home. Her excitement overshadows her concern with my last-minute decision. I’ve got plenty of clothes still in my bedroom closet and can stop at a drugstore for toiletries. Next, I text Brit to give her a quick update.
