I frown. “Are you sure?”
They both nod. “He was up and dancing in the kitchen making pancakes this morning. I promise he’s alright.”
I accept the answer reluctantly, not wanting to pry too much. They would tell me if something really bad happened.
“He’s also making Cooper start to think about college because of it.” Natalia licks her ice cream cone.
“Already?”
“He said he wants him to make sure he’s doing everything he needs to in order to get in.”
“Where have you looked?”
Cooper gives me a tight, awkward smile before looking down guiltily. “That’s kinda the thing. I don’t know if I want to go.”
I gasp. “Really?”
He shrugs, and Natalia looks annoyed. “I don’t know how the next few years are going to look. I’ll figure it out when it’s time.”
The hours pass by as we catch up, and finally, Natalia heads off to meet with others. She promises that we’ll have a sleepover tomorrow.
“Okay. Now spill. Why don’t you want to go to college?”
Cooper rolls his eyes and throws himself back in his chair, sinking his hands into the pockets of his pants. “I just think that someone is going to need to stay back. Grandpa is doing fine at the moment, but his doctor said it could go downhill fast at any moment. I think someone needs to stay around for him.”
I don’t ask the obvious question on my mind: What’s going to happen to the two of them if he passes before he’seighteen? But heartache settles into my bones at the thought of losing him.
“I feel like he’d want you to go, Coop.”
He shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter if he wants me to, if he doesn’t have someone here to help him. Natalia has too much going for her to get stuck here.”
“You do too!” I all but yell. “He wants you to look at colleges for a reason, Cooper.”
“I just think that it’s important for me to be realistic. If I get my hopes up too high, or I focus too hard on it, it’s going to break my heart when I can’t go, you know?”
“Your grandpa would want to see you play football.”
He nods sadly. “He would. I just hope he gets there.”
CHAPTER 32
AMARA
The place is quiet. Too quiet.
So quiet, in fact, that I can hear Cooper slamming his head into his pillow in his bedroom.
Over and over and over again.
So quiet that I can hear Fluffernutter’s little toenails prancing across the living room floor.
At first, I let Cooper be. Maybe dudes have meltdowns like we do? I mean, the number of times I’ve shoved my head into a pillow and screamed isastronomical.He’s having a diva moment. I’ll let him be.
But then he doesn’t come out for dinner, and I become concerned.
I bring Fluffernutter with me, just in case.
In retrospect, I probably should have knocked on the door. But the relief I feel when I see him sprawled out on his stomach, his pants very much still on, is enough to keep me afloat for at least the next month, knowing the universe loves me very much.
