The Promises We Keep (Made for Love Book 1) (69 page)

As if on cue, my mother asks,
“
Do you know where you want to go to grad school?
”

“
I
’
m not sure, actually. It
’
s something I plan to address with my advisor as soon as fall semester begins.
”

“
Do you think CSU is an option?
”
pipes in Addie.

I have to fight the urge to cover my ears to block out the sound of his answer. I don
’
t want to talk about this. It
’
s like listening to Addie and Hammy talk about their plans to go away after graduation
—
except worse!
Which kills me, because I didn
’
t think there was anything worse than being separated from my twin.
I was wrong. Oh, my gosh, I was wrong!

La, la, la, la, la
—
I hum internally, trying to focus on something else.

Grayson shifts my hand from his left to his right before reaching over to rub small circles against my lower back. His comforting gesture calls me to look over at him. When our eyes meet, I blush, knowing right away that my
internal
humming must not have been so secretive after all.
“
CSU is an option.
”
He
’
s answering Addie
’
s question but looking directly at me.
“
But I have a lot to consider and a lot of research I need to do before I make any final decision as to where I
’
d like to apply.
”

My parents seem to be satisfied with his answer, because they move on to discuss other things. I, on the other hand, am not satisfied. I
’
m also no longer hungry. For the rest of dinner, I push the remnants of my food around my plate as I listen to the noise that is everyone else speaking. I can
’
t really call it anything else because I don
’
t really hear it, too distracted by the worry that has begun to fester inside of me.

Senior year of college is a daunting reality as it is. Having to make decisions about what comes next, it
’
s huge. For people like Hammy or Sonny, people who plan to continue their studies, those decisions have to be made fall semester. For me, I just always thought that I
’
d jump into the audition circuit and find someplace to play, but that could take me anywhere. Anywhere, before, was fine. Scary, but fine. Exciting, but fine. Now, though, anywhere doesn
’
t seem
fine
, anymore.

Making future plans with another person in mind is crazy. I didn
’
t think so a second ago, but I do now. I think of Jack and Claire; their future is decided because they
’
re going to get married. Whatever comes after that, they
’
ll have each other. Everyone knows that Jack is going to go back to Georgia and Claire can become a nurse anywhere, so they
’
ll make it work.

Then I think of Hammy and Addie. Who knows what they
’
re going to do now
—
but it was the weight of expectation in regards to their future that brought them to the place they currently reside.
Not together
. Then there
’
s Sonny and me. We
’
ve been together for a month
—
exactly a month, actually
—
and, what, I
’
m supposed to expect that he
’
ll take me into consideration when he picks grad schools? That
’
s ridiculous, right?

Why am I suddenly wondering if I should go to grad school, too? We could go together. Maybe not the same school, but the same state. Earning my master
’
s in performing arts wouldn
’
t hurt. Being without him?
That
would hurt. Even just thinking about it makes me want to change my clothes and go on a run so that I can clear my head.

Then, again, a year from now is a long time. What if we break up?

Goodness gracious, how did I get here? I
’
ve gone from zero to freaking out in two seconds! I need to get a grip.

“
Will you excuse me?
”
I ask as I stand. I have no idea what anyone is talking about at this point, but I know I
’
ve interrupted someone based off of the looks I
’
m getting from everyone at the table.

“
Are you alright?
”
my mom asks with a furrowed brow.

“
Yeah. I just
—
I
—
yeah,
”
I mutter lamely. I
’
m sure I
’
ve convinced
no one
that I
’
m alright.

“
You didn
’
t finish your dinner,
”
my dad points out, signaling toward the plate I grip in my hand.

“
I
’
ll wrap it,
”
I reply as I head out of the dining room towards the kitchen. I discard my plate on the counter, not even thinking about covering it, and hurry my way up to my room. I have a fleeting thought that I just abandoned Grayson at the table with my parents
—
some girlfriend I am!
—
but I know that if I don
’
t put on some running shoes and get out of this house, I
’
ll lose it. There are only two ways to clear my head: running or playing my cello; and I
stupidly
decided to leave the latter in Fort Collins for the weekend.

I
’
m in running shorts, a t-shirt, and my tennis shoes in no time. As I gather my hair to pull it up into a ponytail, I head for my bedroom door. When I open it, my hair slips from my fingers at the sight of Sonny standing on the other side, poised and ready to knock.

“
Knock, knock,
”
he murmurs as he studies me.
“
What are you doing?
”

“
I was going to go for a run. Wanna come?
”

“
Nooo,
”
he answers, dropping his hand to his stomach.
“
I
’
m kind of full.
”

“
Yeah. That makes sense,
”
I nod.

“
What
’
s going on, sweetheart?
”

Was it really just an hour ago that
he
was freaking out and I was asking him the same thing? Now, here we are. Complete role reversal.
What
’
s going on is that I
’
m just now realizing that I don
’
t know how to do this!

“
Do what?
”
he asks.

I huff out a sigh as I clamp my eyes shut.
Why can
’
t my thoughts just stay in my head? Why?

“
Avery? Can I come in?
”

I peer up at him from under my eyelashes and relax the tiniest bit as I
’
m temporarily distracted by his handsome face, which now speaks of his concern for me.
I love this man.
Crazy or not, I realize that I want to make my future plans with him in mind
—
but is that too much, too fast?

“
Shorty, you
’
re killing me, here.
”

“
Sorry,
”
I mutter, stepping aside to let him in.

As he passes by me, he takes my hand and leads me to my bed. I assume he
’
ll sit on the edge, but he lowers himself down to the floor and encourages me to occupy the space beside him.
“
Talk to me. What is it that you don
’
t know how to do?
”

A part of me wants to
la, la, la
my way through this conversation. A
big
part of me. But a small part of me knows that I need to be honest, because that
’
s what we
’
ve promised each other; but also because I
’
ll never know what he
’
s feeling if I avoid the topic. So, I take a deep breath and I gather all of my hair over one shoulder
—
simply to occupy my fingers
—
and then I look into my favorite green eyes before I speak.

“
Wherever you go, I want to go with you.
”
The words are out before I can stop them. That
’
s definitely
not
how I meant to start this conversation. I bite my lip to prevent any further word vomit as I feel my cheeks fill with color.

“
What do you mean? I
’
m not going anywhere.
”
I choke on a giggle as I lean forward, laying my forehead against his shoulder.
Great. Out of context, my statement just makes me sound like a stalker.
“
Are you okay?
”
he asks, cupping his hand around the back of my head as he buries his fingers in my hair.

“
I suck at this,
”
I begin, finding my words more easily now that I
’
m
not
looking into my favorite green eyes.
“
It just dawned on me that I don
’
t know what I
’
m doing. I
’
m in this with you and I thought that was enough
—
but I
’
ve never been in a serious relationship like this before and love doesn
’
t answer your hardest questions
—
like, what
’
s going to happen in a year when your boyfriend goes to grad school? I mean, assuming we
’
re still together, which I hope that we are. And if we
are
, then we need to figure out where we
’
re going to be and how we
’
re going to make it work and that
’
s scary. It
’
s so scary! We
’
ve both got plans, goals
—
dreams
—
and I want to see your dreams come true just as much as I want mine; but I also can
’
t be without you. So wherever you go, I want to go with you. Maybe that
’
s incredibly naive of me, but I can
’
t help it. It
’
s what I want. I don
’
t know what that looks like, but maybe
—“

“
Hey, hey, hey,
”
he mumbles into my hair. He kisses the top of my head as he squeezes the back of my neck.
“
Slow down.
Breathe
.
”
I feel his warm breath against my scalp as he chuckles between the kisses he showers on the crown of my head. He trails his lips down to my ear, where he whispers of his love before he kisses along my cheek, coaxing my head up. I follow his lead, hoping for a kiss, but I
’
m disappointed when he pulls away before our lips meet.

“
Listen,
”
he begins, piercing me with his gaze.
“
We don
’
t have to make any decisions
today
. Or tomorrow. Or even
next month!
We
’
ve got time to figure it all out.
”