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CHAPTERSEVEN
Defeated is how I have felt since Three Rivers called three weeks ago, asking me not to return. Immediately, I started applying to schools in Ohio, New York, Pennsylvania, and West Virginia.
While they remain vaguely worded to avoid legal issues, they all tell me the same thing. None of them want the possible media circus that my presence might create on campus.
As a last resort, I started to apply to colleges on the other side of the country while using my mother’s maiden name, Boden. Kennedy is common enough, but hopefully, not odd enough to stick out.
The police showed up last week with a search warrant, destroying the entire house. Throughout all of it, no one would tell me what it was they were looking for.
John Robinson was here and made sure the search was legal. Systematically going room by room, stuff had been tossed to the floor without care. All I could do was sit and watch in horror as our immaculately clean house was turned upside down.
In the end, they confiscated Father’s laptop and a number of files from his office.
Refusing to leave the mess for the cleaning company, starting with my bedroom, I went room by room, setting it all to right. If nothing else, fixing the rooms gave me something to do.
My phone pings with a message, distracting me from my current task. It’s an email from Groveton College in Texas. Hands shaking, I open the message. My legs almost give out as soon as the word “Accepted” sinks in.
Getting accepted for online classes alleviates alotof stress. When me and John Robinson discussed my enrollment, he convinced me not to mention this to my father. I haven’t been able to see him, so that is pretty much a non-issue.
After taking a moment to celebrate, I forward the information to John so the tuition can be paid. Looking over the books needed, an order gets placed for those, and thanks to overnight shipping, they will be here tomorrow. Today is Thursday, and classes start on Monday.
Happiness finds me for the first time in what seems like forever.
CHAPTEREIGHT
We are finishing up classes for the day. In what has become my new normal, a drink is in my hand as soon as the door to the dorm room is closed.
Since my dad’s death, alcohol has become my best friend, helping to numb the gaping hole in my chest.
If it wasn’t for knowing how disappointed Dad would be if I quit, my ass wouldn’t be here.
Gareth’s dad has summoned us for dinner tonight. No excuses, no exceptions were his instructions. He wouldn’t give us a reason, and that makes me nervous as hell.
Knocking back a third drink, Gareth shoots a disappointed look in my direction as I shoot him the bird in response.
Ashton and Callum enter our room through the shared bathroom just in time to see our exchange. Ashton snickers as Callum raises an eyebrow, staying silent.
Gareth grabs his keys as I empty the last dregs of my drink, setting the glass on my desk.
The ride to Gareth’s parents’ house is quiet, each of us lost in thought. Staring out the car window and watching the landscape, a tear escapes, remembering the last mandatory dinner—the one where my father was still alive to be able to attend.
Realizing the car has come to a stop and everyone else has gotten out, I climb out of the SUV, covertly wiping my cheek on the sleeve of my shirt.
Upon entering the house, we follow Gareth to his dad’s office. Caught off guard at finding Dr. Delroy and Mr. Atwater here, my teeth grind and my jaw clenches.
Filing in and standing behind Dr. Delroy and Mr. Atwater, I cross my arms over my chest, wishing to be anywhere else.
“Boys, thank you for coming.” Silently, I snicker since we weren’t given a choice. Mr. Worthington’s voice breaks through the haze of frustration, and it takes everything in me to stay silent. “A hearing date has been set for Hastings Ainsworth. It’s in two weeks.”
Mr. Worthington’s matter-of-fact statement sucks the air right out of the room, shocking us all. Before any of us has enough forethought to ask questions, Mr. Worthington continues speaking.
“Let me get this out, and then you can ask questions.” He takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly before continuing.
“We will be taking a private plane, flying into Venango County Airport. The airport is a short drive to the Franklin Courthouse. Reservations have been made at a local Bed and Breakfast in case we have to be there for more than one day. All of us are making the trip, so you need to check with your professors, so your assignments are covered. Make sure you pack two suits and enough clothes for four days.”
Mr. Worthington’s words turn to static in my mind, making it go fuzzy. Memories of my father flip by like a movie reel. Times we spent fishing, watching sports, or attending football games, each one stuck on a loop.
A hand on my shoulder causes me to jump and brings me back to the current conversation. Every eye in the room is on me, worried looks on each face. The sympathy and empathy are too much in my current state.
