Chapter 33

Will you meet my parents?

The question echoed in my head as if I stood on the edge of a great canyon.

Meeting Joseph’s parents felt like a huge step forward. Usually boyfriends took their girlfriends home when they were serious about them. Maybe Joseph was that serious about me.

Whether or not I agreed to be his girlfriend, we would still have a child together, after all.

“What do you say, Cynthia?” Joseph asked.

“Okay.” I worried my bottom lip between my teeth. “Do you think they’ll like me?”

“Are you kidding?” Joseph asked. His laugh set me at ease. “They are going to adore you as much as I do.”

Joseph and I set a time to meet his parents over the weekend, which gave me a couple of days to well and truly stress about it.

Joseph seemed confident that they would like me, but I worried. Compared to athletics star Joseph, I didn’t have much going for me.

I worked hard and I cared about their future grandson. I hoped that would be enough to put me in their good graces.

My worries distracted me through most of my classes. When my history professor called me to his desk after class, I thought for sure I was in trouble.

The professor passed me another packet of homework. “Have you had any luck tracking down our wayward student? I haven’t seen any trace of her yet.”

I hadn’t forgotten about the student, Aimee, who had stopped coming to class and who I had promised the professor I’d tracked down. I just had so much going on that she hadn’t been my top priority.

I felt bad about that, now. “I’m not giving up.”

“Keep trying,” the professor said. “She was a good student up until a couple of months ago. I’d hate to see her potential go to waste.”

“I understand.”

He nodded, dismissing me, and as I left the classroom, I pulled my phone into my hand.

I had screenshotted Aimee’s information from the Academy register the last time I had thought to search for her. I had her phone number, though I doubted she would answer. I also had her campus address.

I recognized the name of the dormitory as one very near my own. I never had cause to go into it before, but I knew exactly where it was.

I stopped by my own dorm first to grab the rest of her paperwork that the professor had given me before. I’d kept it in my desk drawer, out of sight and out of mind.

Sorry, Aimee.

But I was resolved to make it up to her now. It wasn’t too late to bring her grades back up. The sooner I could find her, the sooner she could start rebuilding.

Aimee’s dormitory building was a mirror of my own. They must have been built at the same time. Because of this, I knew my way around.

I headed to the elevator. Aimee’s room would be on the fifth floor.

I pressed the ‘up’ button and waited.

Tapping my foot, I heard snickering from a group of girls on my right. They huddled close together, giggling to each other.

Near them, a lone girl walked quickly toward me at the elevator. She hunched over, curled around some books held to her chest. She had brushed her long hair forward, covering her face as if trying to hide it.

If I hadn’t been staring at her socials on the walk over here, I never would have recognized her as Aimee. Even looking at her now, I wasn’t entirely sure.

This tired-looking girl was so different from the bright and smiling one in the pictures.

“Aimee?” I asked.

Her eyes, wide as saucers, locked onto mine. She stopped and didn’t say anything.

But I could see the similarities now, more clearly. The gentle slope of her nose. The green-brown hazel of her eyes. She was a downtrodden version of herself, but this was definitely her.

“It is you.” I gave her my kindest smile. Anything too strong might scare her off. She looked like she wanted to run already.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“I’m Cynthia.” Fearing she would scatter, I got straight to the point. “We have history class together. The professor asked me to give you the work you’ve been missing.”

“Oh.” Relief washed across her face.

I handed her the large piles of clipped-together paperwork. “The professor says you are in danger of failing, since you haven’t been coming to class. But he’s willing to help you make it up.”

She snatched the paperwork with shaking hands, placing it among the books she clutched to her chest. “Okay.”

Something felt incredibly off about this entire situation, but I couldn’t place it from looking alone. And I didn’t think Aimee would appreciate me asking.

“You have to make sure to show up for midterms,” I said instead. “That will be it, otherwise.”

She nodded, but offered nothing else on her own.

I tried probing, just a little. “The professor… he’s worried about you.”

She didn’t take the bait. Instead, softly, she mumbled, “Thank you, Cynthia.”

“Of course,” I said. She wasn’t going to come to class, even with this warning, I could tell. So I offered, “Maybe we could study together sometime?”

Her gaze fell away from mine. “That’s not a good idea.”

“I don’t mind.”

“You don’t understand, I –”

The group of girls’ giggling harshened to cackling instead.

“Isn’t that Aimee?” one spoke louder than the rest.

“No way,” said another, laughing. “What a disgrace. She would know better than to show her face around here.”

Another pointed straight at Aimee.

“I don’t know. Look at her matted hair and cheap clothes. The way she carries herself – like the disgusting slut she is. That has to be her.”

Aimee paled in an instant. “I have to go,” she said to me, and skittered away from the girls, down the hallway in the opposite direction. She disappeared into the stairwell.

Before I could think to react, the girls turned on me.

“Do yourself a favor, sweetie. Stay away from that girl.”

I didn’t know what to do. I could stand up for her, but I didn’t know anything about her. Frowning, I started to leave.

Behind me, I heard one of the girls say, “I can’t believe someone had actually gotten Aimee pregnant before. Do you think she made the whole thing up for attention?”

Not waiting to hear more of their mockery, I ran out the door.

Aimee had been pregnant?

Stricken, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Aimee had been pregnant. Like me.

Did she have the baby? Is that why she was back now?

And why were those girls so cruel?

Would they be that cruel to me?

Fear struck through me. I needed to calm down, but I didn’t want to be alone.

I thought briefly about seeking out Joseph, but I doubted he would know what to say or do to help me feel better.

No, the only person I knew who helped me feel safe was Asher.

My feet guided me without thought across campus to the athletes’ dorm.

Yet as I approached the front door, I stopped.

Asher was just inside, visible through the clear double-doors. He stood very near someone, as if they were whispering to each other.

As I watched, Asher was leaning into, and speaking softly with, another woman.

She was absolutely beautiful. And she was smiling at him.

And he smiled back.