“Nonsense!” Mom says harshly, her fist pounding against the table and making it rattle. “You’ll do no such…”
“María.”
Every cell in my body tenses at the sound of his voice.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
We should have sat inside, but I wasn’t thinking. I never, not once, saw him even close to the café, so what were the chances he’d come now?
I meet my mom’s gaze and can see the recognition flash on her face. How will she react? From what I know, it’s been years. Years since she saw the man who left her pregnant and never bothered to look back. This is what I was afraid of, them coming face to face after all this time. All because of me.
Slowly, I turn around to face him. “Coach,” I say curtly, glaring at him.
“Jeremy,” is Mom’s only greeting. She sounds cool and composed, not even close to the mess I’m feeling inside.
“W-what are you doing here?”
He’s clearly surprised, but I can’t decipher if it’s positive or negative. He knew I was here, so he should have known there was a chance Mom might come. He’s been asking about her, no matter how many times I told him to stop and let it go.
“I came to visit my daughter at college.” Mom lifts her chin a little bit higher. Seeing them stand so close together is unnerving. They’re so different from one another, from the way they look to their backgrounds and who they are as people. How did they end up together?
I wrap my hand around mom’s and tug. “Ven, vámonos.”
“No, no te puedes ir,” Coach says, his hand jolting forward but stopping himself before he touches us. His tone is pleading, his Spanish rusty. How did I not know he speaks Spanish? His throat bobs as he swallows. “Can we talk, María? Please?”
Mom watches him carefully before nodding once. “Take Grace for a walk, Yasmin.”
“But, Mom, you can’t…”
She turns toward me, eyebrows raised.
“You don’t have to do this. It’ll be okay.” I won’t have her beg him to clean up this mess I created. No way.
“No, I have to do this.” Mom gives me a reassuring smile, and a little push to get me going. “Go, I’ll be fine.”
“Fine,” I concede, but turn to Coach to give him a warning glare. “We won’t be far. Call if you need anything.”
“Todo va estar bien, mi niña,” she says, brushing her lips against my temple.
I can only hope she’s right.
With one final nod, Grace and I get up and leave Cup It Up. On the sidewalk across the street, I stop and look back. Coach’s mouth moves as he says something. Whatever it is, Mom nods, and then he takes the seat across from her.
“Ready to go?” I ask, my eyes still glued to the two of them. When there is no answer, I look over my shoulder. “Grace?”
“Huh?” She looks at me, her eyes wide.
I frown. “Are you okay?”
Grace looks a little pale. She throws a quick glance over her shoulder, as if searching for somebody, but then shakes her head. “Yeah, I’m fine, I just got lost in my thoughts. What were you saying?”
“How about a walk around the campus?”
“You’re going to leave them alone?”
“Oh, we’re going to stay close by.”
“You don’t trust him.” Grace nods.
“I don’t know him. And what I know I don’t particularly like.”
Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. I wasn’t about to let another player break my heart. Not again.
Chapter Forty-Two
NIXON
Knowing there isn’t much I can do, not just yet anyway, I decide to get my ass out of bed and take care of things that I can change. As soon as I inhaled some coffee and cleaned up the mess that I made, I sat in the car and drove back home, my fingers nervously tapping against the steering wheel as I fought all the possible scenarios I could find once I got there.
After one agonizingly long hour, I finally pulled into my driveway.
She’s fine, I try to reassure myself as I get out of the car. She’s fine.
Maybe if I repeat it enough times, it’ll come true.
“Nixon!” Jade rushes out before I can even get to my feet. As soon as she’s in arm’s reach, she throws herself at me, knocking the air out of my lungs. “Don’t you ever, ever, ever run off like that ever again.”
“Ever?” I ask, chuckling. Tightening my grip on her, I sigh in relief.
Jade swats me over the back of my head. “Don’t be an asshole.”
“Don’t be a brat.”
Jade pulls back, her face turning serious. “I’m so sorry for all the things I said.”
“Me too, Smalls.”
“None of it was your fault. You did all that Mom asked of you. She wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.” Tears pool in her eyes.
“I know, but it doesn’t mean I don’t feel guilty. I should have been here more. Helped you out more. You shouldn’t have had to deal with all of this on your own.”
Jade shakes her head. “You were here as much as you could be, and she was happy. That’s all that matters, after all. She died happy, and now she’s in a better place.”
“She is,” I murmur, pulling her closer as she sniffles.
“I was so scared when you left yesterday.” Her arms tighten around me. “Don’t ever do it again. I mean it. I can’t lose another person in my life.”
“You’re not losing me, Smalls. Not now, not ever.”
“Promise?”
I kiss the top of her head. “Promise.”
I’m not sure how long we stay out in the driveway, simply holding one another, but I’m not ready for this moment to end. Not just yet.
“I called him.” Jade is first to break the quiet.
“Hmm?”
“Dad.” She clears her throat. “I called him after you left.”
My fingers clench into fists, but I do my best to hold my anger in check.
“He never picked up,” she says before I can ask. “I called him, and he didn’t answer.”
Fucking asshole.
“I’m so sorry, Smalls.”
“You’re not.” There is no menace in her words, just resignation. “But I can’t give up on him. Not yet. There is still hope, right? Maybe, someday.”
I’m not so sure about that, but I don’t want to disappoint her. “Maybe someday.”
“You can’t fail her,” I say as soon as I barge into the office first thing Monday morning. I barely got any sleep as I was trying to come up with a plan on how to make things right for Yasmin. I’d beg and plead, whatever was necessary, but she won’t be failing that class because of me.
“Mr. Cole, I’m so happy to finally see you.” Dr. Stevens sits down in her chair as if she’s used to students storming into her office unannounced and calmly takes a sip of her coffee.
“You can’t fail her,” I repeat in case she didn’t hear me.
Her face turns grim. She grabs a stack of papers and adjusts them. “I suppose you’re talking about Miss Hernandez.”