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Does she mean out of my league with this stuff for her test? Or out of my league with her?
Or both?
“Everyone has to start somewhere,” she continues. “That’s how you learn. How you grow. And if you decide to do the college thing, that mindset will help you so much.”
“That it’s okay to start at the bottom?”
She nods. “And don’t be afraid to ask for help. The worst anyone can say is no and then you move on.”
I swallow heavily. Is that her way of saying that she’s moved past me kissing her? She said no and now it’s over and done with?
“And second of all, I am not that smart. As we’ve talked aboutpreviously,” she says with emphasis, a teasing note in her voice, “book smarts aren’t everything. There’s plenty of stuff I don’t know about. You can’t talk to me about boxing, right? I’d be lost. Or motorcycles? Forget it.”
“That’s true. But those things aren’t important.”
She lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “Importance is in the eye of the beholder.”
I study her, considering her words. Does she have any idea how important she is to me?
I swallow as another thought occurs to me. How important am I to her?
CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
AUSTIN
I needto stop thinking about stuff like this. I’m supposed to be helping her.
I turn back to the binder in my hands. “Sorry, I got off track.”
“That’s okay. I like talking to you.”
I thumb through the pages, unsure what to ask her next. “You know, Danielle was surprised by how much I talk to you. I never know the right thing to say to people, so I usually keep my mouth shut.”
Her lips quirk. “I should take that advice. Keeping my mouth shut so I don’t say the wrong thing. But you don’t have a problem with not knowing what to say. You always seem to know exactly what I need to hear.”
“I do?”
“Yeah. I’ve been a mess when it comes to my apartment, but you’re so level-headed about it all. You’ve been the only thing keeping me sane.”
“I just want to make sure you’re okay,” I murmur.
She gives me a soft smile. “I am now. Thanks to you.” She looks down at her lap, looping a loose string on her shirt around her finger. “Your dad talked a lot about boxing at dinner tonight.”
Well, that’s a change in topic. What’s she getting at? “Yeah.”
“You said he doesn’t listen, but have you actually talked to him about how you feel? About how you don’t want to do it long term?”
I let out a sigh, rubbing my forehead. “I don’t want to get into it with him.”
“How will he know if you don’t tell him?”
My jaw tightens.
“I don’t want to make you mad,” she whispers. “But you were giving him these one-word responses like you were annoyed. And then Danielle would change the subject when she could.” Her finger twists and twists around the string, the tip red after she unravels it. “You said you wanted to make sure I’m okay, and I want the same for you.”
Ah, shit. “I’m not mad. Not at you.”
“At your dad?”
