Happenstance Read Online Free PDF Page B

mid-step.
    Right outside the back door was Weston’s red Chevy, towering over
us. He was smiling down at me from the driver’s seat. “Wanna take a drive?”
    Frankie looked back at me, pleading with her eyes for me to say
yes.
    I nodded, and Weston disappeared, leaning over to pull the lever
of the passenger door and pushing it open. I walked around the truck, but not
without noticing Frankie’s cheesy grin. I climbed up into the seat, and shut
the door.
    “I’m sorry about earlier,” I said. “I just kind of left you there
to deal with them alone.”
    “Stop. Don’t you dare apologize to me.”
    When I didn’t respond, he pulled the truck into gear and pulled
away, down my street and past my house, straight out of town. I knew where we
were going, and I was glad. It felt better than going home, or to school, or
even the Dairy Queen. It had become the one place where I could relax and be at
peace.
    The Chevy’s engine turned off, letting the silence of the night
surround us. Weston opened the door and walked directly to the tailgate,
pulling it down. This time he waited for me and  held out his hand.
    I stared at his fingers. They were long, and the nails had been
bitten down to the quick. “I’m not . . . helpless.”
    “Oh, I know. I just think you’re due for a little special
treatment.”
    I looked at his outstretched hand.
    He shrugged. “Just let me be nice to you.”
    I let him help me to the tailgate and watched as he climbed up
and sat next to me.
    “Oh,” he said, leaning back and opening the cooler. He handed me
a Fanta Orange, and he ended up with a Cherry Coke.
    “Thank you,” I said, taking a sip. “What did your parents say? About
today?”
    “They don’t know.”
    “What do you mean? Didn’t the school call them?”
    “They didn’t call Brady’s, so they didn’t call mine.”
    I sighed. “Well, I’m glad. I guess they didn’t give you
detention, either?”
    “Nope.”
    I nodded. “Why did I even ask?”
    He laughed once, without humor.
    “When I got home, after practice, my dad had an acceptance letter
in his hand. He was smiling from ear to ear. I wanted to puke.”
    “Why?”
    “Because it was from his alma mater. Duke University. Don’t get
me wrong, it’s a good school. My sister loves it there.”
    “Then what’s the problem?”
    “Another acceptance was in his other hand, from the Art Institute
of Dallas.” I waited while he took a sip of his Cherry Coke. “He didn’t know
I’d applied, and I tried to beat him home every day to check the mail so he
wouldn’t find out what I’d done.”
    “But today you didn’t beat him, because you were standing on the
corner with me.”
     “It’s not your fault. He didn’t even mention it. He didn’t even
care. He was too amped about the football scholarship, and even if I didn’t get
one, his mind was made up. It didn’t even matter that I applied behind his
back.”
    “What are you going to do?”
    Weston pulled a wadded-up piece of paper from his letter jacket
pocket. “I fished it out of the trash can.”
    I felt my eyes light up. “You’re going to go?”
    He stared at the paper. “I worked my ass off getting that
application together.”
    “You’re avoiding the question.”
    He looked at me. “What do you think? My parents won’t help me
with the tuition, much less an apartment.”
    “So you work and go to school. You’re not the first student in
the world to do that.”
    “I’m not scared of doing that. I’m just . . . that’s a pretty big
slap in the face to my parents. It’s a big deal.”
    “It’s your life.” Those words were simple and overused, but that
was always true of the truth. “What would your thirty-year-old self say?
    “If he’s sitting in an office pushing legal paperwork, he’s
probably cussing me.”
    I shrugged and looked up at the sky. “Sounds to me like you know
the answer.”
    “It’s a difference between want and should, isn’t it?”
    “Yes. You should