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“I promise. It’s for a friend.”
I don’t feel the same guilt I experienced earlier. Me having a baby would affect my mom in a way it wouldn’t Mrs. Golden. I don’t want her stressing about the possibility, especially now that I know everything else she’s dealing with.
But my denial has a different outcome. I watch the pieces click together in my mom’s mind—Sydney’s surprise visit earlier, our long talk locked away in my room—and come to the correct conclusion.
“Oh.”
“She doesn’t want anyone to know. Doesn’t know for sure. Please don’t say anything.”
“I won’t. But please make sure she knows I’m here if she needs anything. Going through a pregnancy at any age is difficult, but without her parents…”
I nod, fisting my keys and shoving the box back in my bag. “I’ll tell her.”
“I love you, Cassia.”
I walk over and hug her, inhaling the familiar scent of her perfume. “I love you too, Mom.”
Tears sting at my eyes as I step back.
My movements are hasty as I hurry downstairs. Wanting to get away before I break down. Before this house shrinks even smaller than it already feels.
Backing out of the driveway and driving down the street feels strange. I haven’t left the house this late all summer. I’ve had to work early most mornings, so I was responsible and went to bed before midnight. Sydney and Holden were both gone, so my options for people to hang out with were limited.
The court is empty when I park. Unsurprising. It’s late on a Tuesday night, and people have already started to leave town and return to campus. I’m not even sure if younger grades know this place exists, let alone hang out here. Holden and his friends kind of claimed it as their own.
I climb out of the car, inhaling deeply. The night air is thick and humid, sticking to my skin and hair. Clogging my lungs.
I’m craving the cool, refreshing air from the mountains. Wishing I could rewind to being in that tent with Holden, before I knew about my parents. Before I was carrying around Sydney’s secret.
Both are weighing me down, situations I can’t do anything about but am burdened by.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and send a quick text.
CASSIA: I’m at the court.
The metal bleachers are damp and cool when I set my phone and keys down on the lowest risers.
A weathered basketball is half-rolled beneath the bleachers. I retrieve it and dribble over to the free throw line. Take a shot. Miss. Continue shooting, my percentage abysmal, but the repetition calming some of the chaos in my head.
“Isn’t it like an hour past your bedtime?”
I spin, my breathing fast and my hair falling in my eyes.
Holden is walking toward me, a smirk covering his gorgeous face. A little of the tightness eases watching him approach.
I tuck the basketball I’m holding under one arm, pushing my hair out of my face with my free hand. The elastic isn’t doing much.
“Wanna play?” I ask.
Confidence turns to confusion as Holden searches my face. “What’s going on, Cassia?”
I pass him the ball—hard. Anyone else would miss it. Holden snags it out of mid-air easily. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
His nod is slow as he continues to scan my face. This is out of character for me, and we both know it.
But he doesn’t voice his concern.
Doesn’t push me to talk.
