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“Because I was busy working on my creative writing story and studied the wrong things. I’m sure I still passed, but not with the grade I’m capable of.”
“I still don’t understand why you picked a second-year creative writing class when you’re in your final year of a kin degree, anyway.” She cracks an egg and drops it into a measuring cup, whisking it to break the yolk.
I bite the inside of my cheek. “I needed an elective, and I’m pretty decent at essays, so I figured that would come in handy for the class. Although, essays and creative writing aren’t the same at all, which I now know. I thought about taking an abnormal psych class, but it was at eight thirty on Monday morning, and creative writing was a night class.”
Clover arches her brow at me.
“I also wasn’t so sure I wanted to look all that closely at the darkness I carry around with me.”
“I think the darkness comes from your family’s trauma, but what I see more of is your kindness and selflessness.”
“I think you’re looking at me through rose-colored glasses, or orgasm-tinted ones, maybe.” I try to brush it off with a joke, but Clover doesn’t let it go.
“You put other people before yourself all the time.”
“That’s because when I put myself first, the people I care about get hurt.” I sip my coffee.
“Do you mean what happened to your sister at the carnival?” Clover stops mixing batter to focus on me.
“That’s one instance, yeah. Lavender needed people to look out for her, and sometimes I resented that. And it frustrated me that my best friend was in love with her before he even understood the concept,” I admit.
“Those are normal, human emotions. We all have thoughts we shouldn’t, Maverick, feel things we’re ashamed of. Especially when we’re young.”
“I just wish I could take it back. If I hadn’t acted selfishly, everything might have been different. Lavender wouldn’t have endured all that trauma.”
“Youallendured the trauma, Maverick. Every member of your family was a victim, including you.” She places a hand on my cheek, offering comfort I don’t think I deserve, but I want it all the same.
“It’s the what-ifs that are the hardest to deal with, you know? And now I have to go home, and the memories that float around up here . . .” I tap my temple. “Sometimes it’s more than I know what to do with.” I take her hand in mine. “The night I texted you, I tried to talk to my dad about it.”
“Was that a first?”
I nod.
“What did he say?”
I shake my head. “He jumped to the conclusion that something was wrong with Lavender, so I dropped it.”
“Oh.”
“I can never tell him the truth, Clover—that it was my fault. Never. He can’t know I left her behind on purpose. He’d never forgive me.”
Her expression turns sad. “I wish you could see the man you are, instead of the boy who made a mistake. I see you, all of you—the good, the bad, and the broken. You are kind, Maverick. You are sweet and gentle and selfless. You will do anything in your power to protect the people you care about, even if it means you shut yourself off from them. I hated not being able to be there for you when we talked about this the last time, but I was so scared of the way I felt and all the lines I was afraid to cross. I’m glad I get to be someone you can talk to now.”
I fold her in my arms and rest my chin on top of her head. “Can we stay here in this bubble for the holidays and forget the rest of the world exists?”
“I wish I could, but I’m flying to Florida this evening to see my parents.”
I let her go and lean against the counter, glad to have a reason to change the subject, even if this one doesn’t make me feel any better. “How long will you be gone?”
“I’m staying for two weeks. I planned it months ago.” She sounds apologetic as she drops a pat of butter in the frying pan. “What about you? You’re going home? I don’t even know where that is.”
“My parents live out on Lake Geneva. It’s about a twenty-minute drive from your cabin in Pearl Bay. At least in the summer it is. We’ve got a lot of family out there. My dad’s former teammates are like extended family, so there are a lot of get-togethers.”
“They live there? I thought you were visiting your cousin.” Clover’s eyes flare as she pours batter into the pan.
“I usually spend part of my summer there, coaching kids’ hockey camp with my dad and Kody. That’ll end after this summer, though. Will you be back before New Year’s?” I don’t want this to be the only night I get with her, and I worry that two weeks is a lot of time to think.
“I will, yes.” She flips the pancakes and turns the burner to low.
