Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90877 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90877 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
I felt a bit of nervous energy as I showered and changed. Even though I looked forward to the group, it could leave me feeling raw and vulnerable, depending on the topics discussed on any given night. If anything good came out of this, besides befriending Marcus, it was realizing that people from all walks of life experienced grief and had the need to belong and feel heard.
While we ate, I prodded Grant a little about the physics project they were working on, which involved building a model rowboat using only cardboard, tape, and the teacher’s calculations. It sounded interesting and was worth a lot of points, especially if they could make it float, and he thought they’d get a good grade if they put their heads together.
“I almost forgot,” he said around a bite. “There’s a college night for parents in a couple of weeks, and I’ll be taking the SATs this year too. You were supposed to get an email.”
“I’ll make sure to pull it up and have a look.” I tamed my reaction, but my stomach was going crazy from the idea of making all these decisions without Rebecca. “Have you given any more thought to where you’d like to apply? We can definitely tour some campuses in the spring.”
“A school with a good history program, obviously,” he replied with a shrug. He was so fucking smart. He could probably get in anywhere he applied. His statewide testing reflected that every year as well. I’ll admit I was nervous for a while during his freshman year when his grades began slipping due to missed assignments. Some days he’d come home, lock himself in his room, and play computer games all night. His outfits had gone through a dark period as well, when everything he wore looked drab or stark like a Victorian Goth kid from the eighties. As if he was filled with so much sadness, it was reflected in every facet of his life, and I probably wasn’t much better. But I’d reached out to his teachers and therapist, and somehow he’d pulled through.
I remembered the relief when he came downstairs dressed in the tie-dye hoodie I’d gotten him for Christmas, the one he’d initially pretended to hate. It felt like an earth-shattering moment, and in my world, it certainly was—like we’d rounded a corner. We’d pushed forward and created a new normal, which included more good days than sad lately. I supposed that was all I could hope for.
“I hear the University of Michigan has a good program, and maybe Oberlin too,” I replied, having done a little research of my own over the summer. Though I’d admit the colleges I’d looked at had all been within a couple of hours’ driving distance from home.
Any university would seem too far away, and before I knew it, I’d be an empty nester. Damn, that made me feel old, and Rebecca would tease that I had the creaking in my knees to prove it.
“I’ll probably stick even closer to home,” he said, not meeting my eyes. “Maybe Kent or Cleveland State?”
Fuck, I did not want him to feel like he was the one taking care of me.
“Grant,” I said, tapping his wrist and waiting for him to look at me. “You’re free to apply to any college you want. Even if it’s a plane ride away. It’s important for you to have dreams and live your life.”
“But…” He lifted his hand and flapped his fingers like he couldn’t get out the words.
“Do not make your decision based on me.” I set my fork on my plate. “I’ll be okay. Besides, you’ll visit often, and your room will always be yours to come home to, no matter what.”
“It’s not based on you,” he scoffed, and my heart clanged against my rib cage. “Well, not really. Mom’s here, her memory.” He made a frustrated sound as he pushed his floppy bangs away from his forehead. “It’s not a big deal.”
“What do you think Mom would say?” I asked around a clogged throat.
“That she could picture me at some big university where I’d meet more people like me.” Grant had always struggled to find people with similar hobbies, and in the right college environment, he would likely thrive. His high school years didn’t look the same as mine, and that was okay. He’d gotten a late start in the friend department, and the last couple of years, he’d finally joined some clubs that catered to his interests.
“I’d have to agree.” When our eyes met, his softened, and I felt instant relief that maybe I’d gotten through to him, no matter how unsettled it made me feel. Though I’d feel worse if he decided to stay for all the wrong reasons.
“She did always want me to visit her alma mater.” His eyes lit up. “And hey, if I ended up at NYU, I wouldn’t have to learn how to drive. Mom said she walked or took the subway everywhere.”