Abi and the Boy She Loves by Kelsie Stelting

Abi and the Boy She Loves by Kelsie Stelting

Author:Kelsie Stelting [Stelting, Kelsie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-02-09T16:00:00+00:00


Jon was terrible at cross-stitching. But I was now the semi-proud owner of a messy cross-stitched heart.

Thank God classes were starting.

Even though Jon didn’t have anywhere to be until ten, he got up early and walked across campus with me to my first class—a course called Comparative Politics I couldn’t wait to start. When we reached the stairs at the building’s entrance, I stopped for our goodbye.

Jon went to the handrail, though, and started up. “I’m walking you to the door.”

“This is ridiculous,” I said, following him up the stairs. I had to make myself slow down as to not outpace him. “You didn’t need to come with me across campus, and you definitely don’t need to take all these stairs.”

“If you didn’t want me to come, you could have said so,” he grumbled. “But it’s not like I have anything else going on. I’m bored out of my skull.”

I softened, feeling sorry for him. I should have realized this was as much for him as it was for me. “What are you going to do until class?” I asked as we topped the stairs.

He lifted one shoulder. “I don’t know. Maybe grab a coffee.”

“You keep drinking four-dollar lattes, and your parents are going to cut you off.”

His expression tightened. “If one of those jobs would call me back, I would be able to pay for it myself.”

“You’ll hear back,” I reassured him.

He refused to look me in the eyes. “You don’t know that. I have no experience. No skills. No physical ability to do anything. I doubt I’m at the top of anyone’s list.”

I frowned. When he got like this, I couldn’t argue with him. I just stayed quiet until we reached the classroom, then lifted to my tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “I’ll see you after practice tonight.”

“We’re not getting lunch?”

“I have therapy, remember?”

He looked off to the side. “Guess I forgot.”

I picked at the end of my backpack strap, trying to decide whether I should bring it up again or not. I decided to go for it. “You know, you could come with me and set up an appointment. I’m sure it would help.”

“Abi, we talked about this. I don’t need a shrink. I need a job.”

The hourly bell rang, punctuating his point.

I shook my head. “I’ve got to go to class. I’ll see you later.”

“Bye,” he said, clearly frustrated.

We walked our separate ways, and the ache in my chest only grew.



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