69
GABBY
Agitated,I roll over again, except I get tangled in the sheets. It’s almost three a.m., and I don’t think I’ve slept more than ten minutes.
With a groan, I yank off the bedding and trudge to the kitchen for a glass of water. When I’m back in my room, I find myself in front of my window.
I think back to Halloween and all the cars on the street and the sounds of revelry spilling out of the football house. To how angry I was to stomp over there in my slippers and robe.
It would be amusing if I didn’t miss Rider so much.
Would everything be different right now if I had stayed home that night? Would Rider and I have ever reconnected? Would they have kept Poppy after they found her? Or would she have gone into social services?
At least she has a family that wants her. Adele and Rider would go toe to toe for a chance to raise that baby. She’s a lucky girl.
I grab a throw blanket and wrap it around my shoulders.
For the first time in a while, I feel so alone. Now that the possibility of a job at Archer has been removed, I have no idea what to do after graduation. Or where to go.
Aunt Carmen doesn’t want me to move back home. Ben’s busy here at school. I don’t have a lot of options.
Deep down, I think I was using Archer as an anchor. To have a place I was wanted. Needed. With the promise of that job, I didn’t have to worry about where I would go after May.
Now I feel like I could disappear into the floorboards, and it wouldn’t make a difference to anyone.
Some little part of me hopes I’ll have such a great time with Kat and Tori they’ll ask me to come back after graduation, but that’s irrational. They’re just being nice to have invited me for the holidays. Besides, their ranches are in the middle of nowhere. How would I find a teaching job there?
I stare at the football house.
What’s the harm in one peek? It’s not like Rider will know. It’s three in the morning. He’s sound asleep.
I peel back the curtain farther and lean over until I can see his window.
The light is on, and the sight of it makes my heart pound.
Is something wrong with Poppy? Is he nervous about tomorrow’s game? Is he worried about school?
Am I being an idiot for not giving him another chance?If he even wants that.
I could put myself out of this misery and listen to his messages.
Is that being weak? I don’t know anymore. I thought I needed space to make sense of everything that happened this week.
The thought of listening to his voice sends such a bittersweet pang through me, I have to reach out and brace myself against the wall.
What harm could there be inlisteningto messages?
I swallow and stumble back to bed where I reach for my phone.
Seven missed calls. Five texts. Three messages.
Rider doesn’t usually leave me voice mails.
The texts are all from him on Thursday. They ask if I’m around, that he needs to talk to me, to text him back. That he has good news.
He must’ve sent them after his hearing let out.
With a trembling hand, I press play.
