“Bye,” she said softly. When she heard him disconnect, she threw her phone on the bed.
He was mad at her. She didn’t even think he believed her when she’d told him her reason. He probably thought she was blowing him off or something.
Or . . . did he have somebody else in mind and so he couldn’t wait to go ask her?
What was she going to do if he took someone else while she was sitting around at that dumb rehearsal all night?
With a sigh, she knew exactly what she was going to do. She’d pretend like she couldn’t care less . . . and then she’d go home and cry.
Kind of like she was doing now.
CHAPTER 23
“God gave us our memories so that we might
have roses in December.”
—j. m. Barrie
Bethany had blown him off and made him feel like a loser. Worse, everyone was going to know that she’d said yes and then changed her mind.
They’d all think that something was wrong with him, because there sure wasn’t anything wrong with her.
Looking around his room, he ignored the laundry and the towels that Gunnar was always griping about and stared at the stuff that he’d first stared at when Gunnar had shown him the room for the very first time.
The full-size bed with the frame made out of black steel that a buddy of Gunnar’s had made for him. The flat-screen television on the wall, the sturdy oak desk, and the black leather chair with wheels that Jeremy secretly loved. Gunnar had even painted one of the walls a dark gray and had hung up a cool photo of the mountains in Colorado.
It was a great room. A grown-up room for a kid who had money and security.
The first time he’d gone to sleep in that bed, he hadn’t wanted to close his eyes, sure when he woke up that he was going to be back in one of his other homes. Sleeping on a bed that dozens of kids had slept on before he’d gotten there.
A couple of days later, he’d told Gunnar that he thought the room was too nice for him. But Gunnar had shaken his head and said it was perfect. That the room with all the fancy stuff was a good fit for him.
Now, months later, Jeremy had started to believe it too.
But, maybe there really was something wrong with him and Bethany had seen it before Gunnar had.
After all, he was the one who’d had the messed-up life, not her. Maybe he’d said or done something that took her off guard. Going back to his desk, he sat down at the chair and tried to think of their last couple of conversations. Unfortunately, nothing came to mind.
Looking back at his stack of homework, he flipped to the easiest to accomplish—a worksheet based on the lab they’d done in biology that morning. Scanning through his notes, he was able to fill out the sheet without any trouble. Closing that notebook, he put it on his bed. At least he’d have one class where he wasn’t feeling like he was completely lost.
Moving onto the next subject, he opened his planner and groaned. He had to write an essay on Julius Caesar. Like he cared about Shakespeare right now. Flipping through the play, he found the correct act and scene and read the question again. How did Marc Antony feel about the plans for battle?
He didn’t know.
When Gunnar knocked on his door twenty minutes later, Jeremy was still glaring at the open book and stewing about Bethany.
“Hey, you almost done?” Gunnar asked when he poked his head in.
“Nope.”
He released his hold on the door and walked in. “What are you having trouble with . . . Oh, Shakespeare?” He grimaced.
“Don’t worry. I’ll figure it out.” But he wasn’t really thinking about the play at all. No, he was trying to figure out what was wrong with him.
Gunnar sat down on the end of Jeremy’s unmade bed. “What’s wrong? Are you having trouble in school?”
“No more than usual. I’m not great at school, Gunnar.”
“I don’t need you to be great. But, I do need you to talk to me if you need help. That’s something we agreed to do when you moved in, right?”
“Right. I will ask if I need help. But I don’t.” All he needed was for the guy to leave so he could stew in peace.
Gunnar looked like he was about to stand up, but then he paused. “Everything else good?”
“No.” Now why had he even said that? “Never mind.”
Gunnar stared at him for a moment then seemed to make up his mind. “Okay, I’m thinking that it’s time for us to have a talk. Get up, grab your books, and come on into the kitchen. We’re going to work on your homework—and whatever has been bothering you at the same time—all while eating the dinner I just brought home from the Works.”
“I told you I don’t need your help.”
“Well, I’m telling you now that I didn’t just ask you to do this.” His voice hardened. “Now, listen up. I’m telling you to do this, and I don’t expect you to argue. Got it?”
Jeremy blinked. Gunnar was usually so laid back, it was hard to come to terms with the fact that this was the same guy.
“Got it.”
“Good.” He turned and walked down the hall.
Even though Gunnar hadn’t looked back at him, Jeremy did as he asked. Picking up his books, he headed down the hall after him.
He wasn’t real smart, but he was learning that there were some things a guy didn’t argue with. Gunnar, when he was aggravated with him? Well, that was one of them.
When he got into the kitchen, he found Gunnar at the sink and his head was lowered. He didn’t move when Jeremy put his stuff on the table.
There was already a pizza box, a container of salad, and a glass of milk on the table. On another time, Jeremy would grin about it. No matter how many times he told his foster father that he wasn’t a kid, Gunnar still did things like that.
Carefully, he pushed the containers to one side and set his books down. He paused, waiting for Gunnar to acknowledge him. When he didn’t, Jeremy decided to continue on his homework.
He’d just flipped back to Julius Caesar when Gunnar turned to face him. The silence felt like a brick to his chest as he approached. Jeremy wasn’t sure where to look so he stared at the pages. The words on the page blurred.
“Jeremy, are you not going to look at me?”
He popped his head up. “I’m looking.” But what he saw didn’t make him feel any better. Gunnar looked like he’d just been hit on the head or something. “What’s wrong?”
He sucked in a breath. “What’s wrong?” He laughed softly. “Boy, do you really not expect better from me?”