TATUM
Friday, December 31st
Iopen my eyes to an immediate feeling of dread, settled into my bones like it had all night to etch itself there.
I’d had a job since the moment I turned fifteen, saving every penny I earned until I went off to college, which I luckily had a full-ride scholarship for. But this trip has had me flying through my savings faster than I expected, even though Maeve and I were going half and half on everything. And if I end up having to be stuck in Seattle for nearly two weeks…
I suppress a groan so I don’t wake up Maeve, who is buried in the pillows, sound asleep. For a moment, I’m distracted as I look over at her, observing the way her dark hair is a tangled mess from tossing and turning all night and the way her hoodie is all twisted around her body. Her hands are perched under her head and her lips are smushed as she snores.
As I turn my head to stare back up at the ceiling, I rub a hand down my face slowly, sucking a deep breath into my lungs and exhaling as steadily as I can.
Maeve hums sleepily.
I must not have been as quiet as I was trying to be.
Crap.
“Good morning,” she mumbles, pressing her face into my bare chest as she scoots closer to me, draping an arm over my body and pulling me tight.
“Good morning,” I rasp, cursing mentally at how out of it I sound. She catches onto it immediately, her head lifting as she narrows her sleepy eyes at me, assessing my face.
“What happened?” she asks.
I swallow thickly. “W-what do you mean?”
Maeve blinks rapidly now as she tries to wake up, propping her weight up on her elbow as she stares at me for a moment. Rubbing her eyes, she grips onto my arm. “What happened, Tate? What’s wrong?”
This isn’t something I want to worry her with, which I know will be exactly what happens if she finds out about it. It’s not her burden to bear, and it’s also…kind of embarrassing. I’m the one who offered to take her on this trip, for starters. I know we couldn’t have predicted that all this would come out of it, but still. It’s not her problem.
“Did the hospital call?” she continues when I don’t say anything. “Did your results come back?”
“No,” I sigh, “no, it’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s nothing, Maeve.”
“But you just said it wasn’t that, so that implies it’ssomething?—”
“I just meant that it wasn’t the hospital calling,” I rush out, “that it was nothing.”
She doesn’t look the least bit convinced of my words, her eyebrows twitching slightly as they furrow. Letting go of my arm, she pushes herself into a sitting position, wrapping her arms around her knees as she stares down at me.
“Please talk to me, Tatum.”
The pleading tone in her voice has me wilting at the sound, dragging my thumb back and forth across my forehead before I meet her gaze.
“It’s really nothing,” I whisper softly. “It’s my problem, not yours.”
Her head tilts as her gaze softens, a trace of sympathy there. “What are you talking about?”
Oh God.
You could make something up.
“Clark,” she rasps.
At that, I push until I’m sitting up next to her, the blanket pooling around my waist as I look down at my hands in my lap. “I…I don’t have enough money to stay here for two weeks and for the trip back to Pennsylvania.”
