Claire (Hart University Book 2) (13 page)

“It’s not going to happen.”

My heart sank. If Alex wasn’t on my side…

“But you haven’t even heard me out yet. You haven’t—”

“Will, I’ve been listening to you for the last month. I’ve been listening to you, and to your mother, and to the sports medicine doctors I’ve called personally.”

Shit.

“But—”

“Will, I love you. And I understand in my gut how you feel about football, because I feel the same way. I told myself I would keep an open mind about your injury because that’s what I would’ve wanted people to do for me when I was a player. And I have kept an open mind. So when I tell you this, it doesn’t just come from the love I feel for you as your stepfather. It also comes from the advice and opinions of medical experts I trust, and from my instincts as a coach. You shouldn’t play football again, Will.”

Ever since the injury on the field, the blows had kept coming. This one, though, felt like the knockout punch.

“I don’t have to do what you say.” My voice trembled like a little kid’s, and I hated myself for that. “I’m nineteen years old.”

“I know. I guess that’s a decision you’ll have to make for yourself. You’ll have to decide who you trust, and who has your best interests at heart.”

My own heart was a raging mess. I knew that my mother and Alex loved me. Of course I did. But I also knew that I loved football, and that I didn’t want to let it go without a fight.

I knew something else, too. I knew there was no way I could go home for Thanksgiving without saying things I’d regret—and maybe some things I wouldn’t be able to take back.

“I’m not coming home.”

“What?”

“On Wednesday. I’m not coming home.”

Silence. Then:

“Your mom and I will come to you, then. You shouldn’t be alone on Thanksgiving.”

The swirl of anger and pain inside me was getting worse every second.

“You guys can come out if you want, but I won’t be here. I’m going to take a road trip and think things through. I’ll call you next week.”

I ended the call before Alex could say anything else, and then I turned off my phone so I wouldn’t know if he tried to call back.

The truth was, I had no intention of taking a road trip. I would stay here, although if my mother and Alex made an appearance I would definitely take off.

So what did I want to do over the holiday break? Just about everyone I knew would be gone.

Get drunk, I decided.

And after that?

I’d see where the spirit took me.

Chapter Fifteen

I got a call from Andre on Tuesday night. After we finished talking, I sat cross-legged on my bed and stared at my phone for a long time.

Then I went to Julia’s room to ask her for a really big favor. Once we figured out the details, I called my dad.

“I have something to tell you that you’re really, really going to hate.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“I can’t come home for Thanksgiving this year.”

“Okay, you’re right. I really, really hate that.” He paused. “You have three minutes to make your case.”

I took a deep breath. “You know everything that’s been happening with Will?”

“Yes.”

“Well, he’s in a bad place. A monumentally bad place. I’m scared to death for him, Dad. I just talked to Andre, and apparently Will’s decided to stay here over the break. Alone. And if he spends the week the way he’s spent the last two days—”

“How has he spent the last two days?”

“Drinking.”

“Damn. I don’t need to tell you how stupid and dangerous that is, on a lot of levels. He’s underage, he had a serious concussion not long ago, and—”

“I know, Dad. That’s why I want to stay. We’re going to do an intervention.”

“Who’s ‘we’?”

“Will’s friends. Some of us, anyway.”

I could hear my dad’s sigh all the way from Iowa. “That’s something his parents should be doing, sweetheart.”

“If he was going to listen to his parents, I wouldn’t be talking to you about this.”

“I know you mean well. But, Claire—”

“Maybe no one can get through to him right now. Maybe we won’t be able to help. But we have to try. And, look. I have his mom’s phone number. If there’s anything we can’t handle, I’ll call her. All right?” I paused. “But I don’t think I’ll have to. Will’s a wonderful, incredible person. Underneath all the stuff he’s going through right now, he’s still a wonderful person. I just want to remind him of that.” I paused again. “Please, Dad. Please. I’ll make it up to you and Jenna over Christmas, okay?”

He pounced on that immediately. “Does that mean you’ll stay with us for the whole break? You won’t spend two weeks in Boston like you were planning?”

I sighed. “Fine.”

“All right, then. You can spend Thanksgiving at Hart helping your friend. But if anything is off, anything at all, you’d better call his folks like you said you would—and you’d better call me, too.”

Relief spread through me. “I will. I promise. And, Dad? I love you.”

I already had my bag packed for my trip home, so I didn’t have to waste time on that. I left the dorm, tossed my suitcase into the trunk of my car, and drove to the bar Andre had called from.

Del was waiting for me out front.

“Will’s inside with Andre and Tony,” he said. He looked worried, which was disconcerting. Del never worried about anything.

“I’ll wait here for you guys,” he said, sticking his hands into his pockets. “I’m not that good in a crisis. This is more Andre’s scene.”

I found them in a booth way in the back. The bar was dark and seedy and smelled like cheap beer and air freshener, and it struck me as exactly the kind of place you’d expect to serve an underage kid carrying a fake ID.

I slid into the booth beside Will and across from Andre and Tony. Will had his head buried in his arms and he was snoring loudly.

“How many drinks did he have?”

“Five,” Andre said.

I looked at Will, sprawled out over the scarred wooden table with his head in his arms and peanut shells stuck in his hair. It looked like he hadn’t shaved since yesterday.

“Five drinks did that to him? He’s such a big guy.”

“I know, but he’s not usually much of a drinker. He doesn’t have a tolerance built up or anything.”

I dug into my mental files for some of the info I’d looked up after Will’s injury.

“People can be more sensitive to alcohol after a concussion.” I frowned. “I bet his doctor told him that at some point. I bet he knows he shouldn’t be drinking.”

Tony was looking frustrated. “Of course he knows. But he’s not in a mood to listen to reason.”

Andre nodded. “I guess he had a bad conversation with his folks or something. Anyway, that’s when he decided not to go home for Thanksgiving—and when he started drinking. He skipped his classes today, too.”

“Okay.” I leaned across the table to emphasize my next point. “If this plan is going to work we have to be all in. Are you sure you and Dyshell can make it out to the cabin tomorrow night? There’s no way I can do this alone.”

“We’ll be there,” Andre said. “We already cleared it with our parents. Coach won’t let me off practice tomorrow, but after that we’ll hit the road.”

Tony was looking at a weather report on his phone. “It’s supposed to snow tonight. Where’s this cabin again?”

“Out in the Berkshires,” I told him. “I saw that report, too, but they’ll have the roads plowed by tomorrow afternoon.”

“What about you?” Andre asked. “Will you be okay?”

I nodded. “Julia said it’s a two hour drive. If I start now I should beat the snow.”

“Okay. Let’s get him into your car.”

Andre and Tony got Will on his feet. Once we were outside, Del helped, too. Between them they got Will to my Corolla. He was only half awake, and he didn’t offer much resistance when his friends stuffed him into my passenger seat and belted him in. Once that was done, his eyes closed and the snoring began again.

“He might puke at some point,” Del cautioned me, as one who knows of what he speaks.

“This car’s pretty ancient and it’s been through a lot. We can both take it.” I paused. “At least with a guy you don’t have to hold back his hair.”

I got into the driver’s seat and rolled down my window when Andre knocked on the glass.

“Call me if you have any problems.”

“I will. Rikki and Sam are coming out tonight if the roads aren’t too bad. Otherwise, they’ll come with you guys tomorrow.” I glanced over at Will. “He’s not going to give me any trouble. He’ll be sleeping it off.”

“Okay. Is your phone charged up?”

“Yes.”

“All right. Have a safe trip.”

“Thanks, Andre. See you tomorrow.”

The snow started sooner than I’d been expecting—about twenty minutes into the trip, when I still had an hour and a half to go. For most of that I’d be on the Mass Pike, which was a major road and felt safe. After that, once I got on the back roads, I’d just have to grit my teeth and get through it.

I would’ve thought it was beautiful if I hadn’t been the one driving. I love snow, and—from the passenger seat—I love the way the flakes hitting the windshield look like stars flashing by on an intergalactic journey. But I was behind the wheel, which meant I was responsible not just for my safety but for Will’s. So it was hard to enjoy myself.

It wasn’t bad at first. The snow didn’t even stick for the first twenty minutes. After that I moved into the far right lane, slowed down to thirty miles an hour, and felt grateful for the taillights of the car in front of me.

According to Siri I was about five miles from my exit when the car I’d been following fishtailed and ended up on the shoulder.

I was afraid if I braked I’d skid, too, so I kept going past. The car hadn’t crashed into anything, so I figured they’d be okay.

I hoped I’d be able to say the same thing about Will and me.

“In a quarter mile, take the exit onto Wintervale Road.”

Thanks, Siri.

Cars were becoming few and far between and the visibility was terrible. I slowed down to a crawl for the exit, seeing with dismay that this road hadn’t been plowed at all yet. Praying that I wouldn’t run into too many hills—in spite of the fact that I was now in the Berkshire Hills—I shifted into first gear and drove very, very slowly through the thick layer of snow.

There were hills, of course.

I skidded coming down one and almost didn’t make it up another, but I came out okay—mostly because there wasn’t a single other vehicle in sight for me to crash into. Everyone else was obviously too smart to be out driving in what was turning into a heavy snowstorm.

Finally I made my last turn onto a dirt road surrounded by trees, and Siri informed me that my destination would be on the right.

My stomach was in knots and every muscle in my body ached with tension. What should have been a two hour drive had turned into four.

Will had slept through most of it, the lucky bastard, although he’d woken up twice. The first time he’d mumbled something indistinct before going back to sleep. The second time he’d said, very clearly, “Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band,” which I felt I could disregard under the circumstances.

As I pulled into the driveway of the cabin that belonged to Julia’s family—they’d given us permission to use it over the holiday weekend—Will was still snoring, though more quietly than he had been before.

I decided to leave him in peace while I took a look at the cabin. Julia had told me what to expect, but what if the storm had knocked out the electricity? That would mean no light and, more importantly, no heat.

Which would really, really suck.

But once I unlocked the front door and used my phone’s flashlight to find the light switch on the wall, I was relieved to discover that the electricity was working just fine.

Halle-frickin-lujah.

The cabin was lovely, although I’d probably appreciate it more under different circumstances. There were floor-to-ceiling windows along one wall and a fireplace along another, with a big stack of firewood beside it. In front of the hearth was an oriental rug and an enormous leather couch, well worn and very comfy-looking, and two equally cozy-looking armchairs. The walls were painted cream with slate blue trim and there were black and white nature photos everywhere.

The downstairs was an open design, with the kitchen and dining area visible from the living room. A wide staircase led upstairs where, Julia had told me, there were three bedrooms.

I found the thermostat and turned on the heat, grateful to hear a furnace grumble to life somewhere. Hopefully it wouldn’t take too long for the house to warm up.

Outside, the wind had picked up and the snow was coming down thick and heavy. As I trudged through the six inches already on the ground, I felt stupid. Why hadn’t I taken the weather reports more seriously?

Because a storm this early in the season was unusual, that’s why. I hadn’t really believed the predictions.

I didn’t even have my winter coat. It was hanging in my closet back in Iowa, and I’d been planning to pick it up over the break. I was wearing my warmest jacket, but even so, I was shivering by the time I got back to the car.

Will was still asleep in the passenger seat.

Damn. What if he wouldn’t wake up? There was no way I could manhandle him the way Andre and Tony had. He outweighed me by a hundred pounds.

But when I opened the passenger door and shook him by the shoulder, he opened his eyes and stared at me.

“What the hell?” he asked, his voice gravelly from alcohol and dehydration.

“We’re here,” I said, pushing the button to release his seatbelt. “Let’s get inside.”

Will swung his legs around and started to get out. When he noticed the swirling snow for the first time, he stopped.

“How long was I asleep?” he asked, sounding bewildered. “Where are we?”

Both fair questions.

“We’re at Julia’s family’s cabin in the Berkshires,” I explained.

He stared at me like I was nuts. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ll explain it to you when we get inside.”

His brown leather jacket was even lighter than mine, and when a strong gust of wind blew snow into his face he shivered.