Sloane is going to hear about this. Probably from Grentley himself.
"Tucker." Lena's voice is gentle. "I need you to call team medical. Alder needs proper treatment. And—" She hesitates. "You need to call your agent. This is going to get back to Coach Thompson."
I pull out my phone, shaking, and dial my dad.
"Hey, kiddo," he answers cheerfully. "What's up?"
"Dad." My voice cracks. "I need help. Everything just fell apart."
The cheerfulness vanishes instantly. "Where are you?"
“We’re at the practice facility, Ty,” Lena shouts above Alder’s groan of pain. Tooth stuff makes me queasy, and I try not to barf while explaining to my dad that I need him to call Brian for me. Hopefully, our agent isn’t on a flight somewhere.
"I'm on my way.” Dad’s voice is calm, like he’s used to managing colossal fuckups like this. "We'll figure this out."
But as I watch my twin spit blood into a basin, as I hear Grentley's threats still echoing in my head, as I think about Sloane finding out about this disaster, I'm not sure anything is going to be okay ever again.
I turn my head to the side and puke up bile all over the floor. My insides truly evacuate my body as I think about my career imploding, my brother’s ruined face, and the mother of my children who will now most certainly never speak to me again.
Alder reaches out with his non-bloody hand and squeezes my shoulder. Even injured, even caught in the middle of my mess, he's still trying to support me.
For the first time, I’m really not sure I deserve it.
CHAPTER 20
SLOANE
Professor Khan'soffice smells like old books, and the dust is making my eyes water. Or is that the impending sense of doom from the red-marked exam on her desk? Either way, my eyes are leaking.
"Sloane." Her voice is kind, which somehow makes this worse. "I can see you're struggling."
"I'm fine," I lie. "Just need to study more."
"That's not what concerns me." She leans forward, hands folded. "You've missed three classes in the past two weeks of a six-week summer intensive. Your assignments have been incomplete. And this exam—" She taps the paper with its damning 47% circled at the top. "This isn't someone who doesn't understand the material. This is someone who's overwhelmed."
The tears come despite my best efforts. I swipe at them angrily. "I'm sorry. I'll do better. I can retake the exam, or?—"
"I'm not trying to punish you." Dr. Khan's expression softens. "I'm trying to help you succeed. Talk to me. What's going on?"
I open my mouth to lie again, to say it's just stress, just adjusting to school. But the words that come out are: "I'm pregnant. With twins. And everything is falling apart."
Dr. Khan doesn't look shocked. She nods slowly, like this explains everything. “Okay, so you have some options for a medical exemption.”
She sits back, studying me. "Sloane, I've seen your work whenyou're focused—you're bright, capable, passionate about public health. But right now, you seem unable to give this your best effort. What about an incomplete?—”
"I can handle it.”
"Can you?" Her tone is gentle but firm. "Because from where I'm sitting, you're drowning. And that's not good for you or your babies."
The truth of her words settles heavily in my chest. I am drowning. Between the pregnancy exhaustion, the nausea, the stress with Tucker, and Mel moving out—I can't keep all the plates spinning.
Dr. Khan continues. "You can withdraw from the class with a medical exemption. No penalty. Or—" She pauses. "You can take an incomplete and finish the coursework in the fall term...”
I spit out a laugh. “In the fall, I’ll have 12 credits and even more appointments.”
“Sloane, I think you need to be realistic about your capacity right now." She slides a form across the desk. "Think about it. You have until Monday to decide. But whatever you choose, please—take care of yourself first. The degree will still be here when you're ready."
I nod, taking the form with shaking hands. How can she possibly know that I’m the first person in my family to go to college at all, and I already interrupted that process once. "Thank you."
