“I promise,” he murmured. He let me lay my head on his shoulder, and a lady in the seat across the aisle from ours kept staring at him, but Daddy ignored her after giving her a quiet hello. We rode the whole way to St. Loren Community College like that. I’d been enrolled there when I met.... I couldn’t think any more about Perry because it made my head hurt.
Once we got off the bus at the campus entrance, Daddy walked with me onto the grounds. The glass-and-steel buildings dotted across a rolling green lawn were relentlessly modern compared to the rest of the city—both alien and familiar. My stomach wobbled as we strolled along the sidewalk.
Everything seemed different.
I didn’t remember where any of the administrative buildings were, and we had to ask a really young-looking girl where to find the office to enroll. She was nice but made me feel strangely old. By the time we located the right spot—four stories of white painted bricks and tall glass windows—I was ready to run away, but Daddy kept a tight hold on my hand.
He was nice and opened the solid wooden door for me, but being in the office was even worse than talking to the girl outside. The air didn’t move and was too warm and humid, and a strange funk lingered that reminded me of old books. There was a nice woman, short and friendly, with huge horn-rimmed glasses and purple-and-white-striped hair. She came out from behind a desk and smiled a lot as she tried to get me to answer questions, but I just kept shrugging, so eventually she switched to talking with Daddy.
“Phoenix?”
“Yes,” I said, my face heating as I focused on the conversation again instead of a dying cactus that was sitting on the windowsill beside the desk. How did you even kill a cactus? She smiled. “Father Gian says you were enrolled here previously, is that true?”
Had I told Daddy that? I must have. “Yes... uh, years ago. About seven. I did well my first year, but I left a few weeks into my second one. I didn’t withdraw.” I was shocked as the information poured from me. Everything I’d said was true, but I hadn’t thought about it in forever.
She hummed. “We have what we call afresh startpolicy. It’s been long enough that if you completely retake all your credits we could wipe your GPA and start again.” My stomach sank. It didn’t really matter, but I’d been so proud of myself that first year. I’d called my mom and my friend Jesse. I froze as the woman continued talking; I hadn’t thought about that name in years. It was Jesse I’d gone skydiving with. He’d been a good friend. My head reeled and I felt nauseated.
The lady smiled at me. “If you give me your social security number or old student ID I can look up everything for you and see exactly what you need to do.” She picked up a square of sticky notes from her desk and a pen and stared at me expectantly.
“Uh... I have no idea.” I shrugged a shoulder, feeling dumb.
Daddy cleared his throat. “We can find it and get back to you.”
“You can look at the scheduling website,” she said, tapping the pen to her computer screen. “Don’t you worry about it, a lot of kids don’t know their social security number.”
“But I’m not a kid, am I?” I asked and couldn’t control the bitterness in my tone. I’d had a good time quietly helping in the church, but this was a lot, and I felt like I was standing on my tiptoes in a river, just about to take a step too deep.
She gave me an awkward smile, and Daddy took a little sticky note with the school website info from her, along with a phone number to reach her, and tucked them both in his pocket as we made our way out of the office and back into the sunshine. He called out “thanks” over his shoulder before the door closed.
“Sorry I don’t know anything, Daddy,” I murmured.
He brushed a strand of hair I hadn’t noticed, but must’ve pulled free, behind my ear, and that light touch sent a pleasant tremor swirling in my stomach. “It’s okay. You don’t know one long, boring number, it’s not the end of the world.”
Even though I was in a bad mood now, I smiled at him, and then I laughed because it had been a hell of a long time since I could indulge in something as ridiculous as a “mood.” I’d always had to be as pleasant as possible up until today. Moods were a surefire way to get into trouble.
“It’s okay. Would you like to grab lunch?” He rubbed a hand over my back, and I relaxed into the caress. “You pick.”
“I’d rather you did,” I said quietly.
He stared for a moment, then nodded. “You like that?”
“Yeah. I’d be just as happy to go home. Your mom mentioned food.”
“Maybe that’s a good—” He flinched and tugged his phone out of his pocket, then rubbed the back of his neck and glared at the screen. We walked farther out onto the sidewalk while he poked at his phone.
“Do you remember Jericho?”
I nodded, and Daddy gave me a small smile that had me feeling proud.
“He says there is a low-key group therapy session you could get into this afternoon. Soon. Do you want to go?”
No! Not at all.“You think I should?”
He sighed. “Yes, I can take you there and be there when you’re done.”
Home sounded better. The longer we stood outside with groups of chatting people walking near us, laughing, and talking too loudly, the more I wanted to yell and say no. There was too much happening. But before I knew it, we were back on the bus and off it again.
We stopped in a small shop that sold pizza and hot dogs and grabbed slices to eat as we walked. This was a much nicer part of the city and the businesses all seemed to have fancy cars parked in front of them. There was no trash on the sidewalks, and lawns surrounded the buildings. Daddy stopped near a three-story old-fashioned house with a massive front porch that wrapped around it. The fresh white paint on the wooden siding was so bright it reminded me of clouds. There was a sign with several names on it beside the sidewalk, and I noticed Daddy’s friend Mr. Jericho was listed on there.
