Page 18 of Westward

Will snorted, and I looked between them, confused.

“He’s one of your students?” I asked, trying to catch up.

“I was. Graduation’s over, and now I’m a full-fledged adult.”

“Making shit choices,” I put in.

“Atlas,” Lizzie whispered fiercely, and I stood back, knowing I was no help here.

But what the hell, this kid had nowhere to go, and the town hadn’t noticed? What else was Ashford Creek hiding? It wasn’t as though I was here often enough to make a difference.

“Will. You have to ask for help. Or at least take it.”

“I’ll be fine, Ms. E. It’s not as bad as it seems. I’m saving money for an apartment, because it’s cheaper up here than in some of the other towns, and Rune likes what I’m doing as a server, so I’ll be able to keep the job. Then I don’t know, I’ll save enough for community college or trade school, and I’ll find what I need to do. It’s just hard right now. But that’s life. You know it. You don’t have to take care of all of us, Ms. E.”

“At least let me take care of some of you. You shouldn’t be sleeping on couches. And Dobson shouldn’t have kicked you out.”

“I’m not his problem anymore. And he never liked me anyway.”

“Is he your dad?” I asked, not meaning to say the words until they were already out.

Lizzie gave me a pleading look, but Will answered simply.

“No. Foster dad. Hence, the state paying him.”

I winced. “Sorry, missed that.” That was all out of my wheelhouse, and I felt like shit. I donated a lot of my time and money to helping those in Portland, but I didn’t do enough for my town. I might wave off the adoration and attention, but I needed to do something else. Even the fact that there were fees to play at the community ice rink that I had helped build annoyed me. When had that happened? Did I need to increase my yearly donations to make sure kids like Will didn’t need to pay?

I made a mental list of things I needed to ask my agent and parents, for that matter, but listened to Will as he explained how the system had failed him.

“I bounced around a few houses and ended up with Dobson and his wife. His wife’s gone, and Dobson was able to keep me because it was only the last few months. Now he doesn’t get money, and so I’m out. It’s not a big deal. Other kids have it worse.” Will’s face sobered. “Way worse. But I really am sorry, Ms. E. I should have told Jace to go fuck himself. But he has friends. Friends I don’t want to mess with.”

“You should tell the sheriff or Thatcher. You know Thatcher. He would help.”

Will gave her a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I know Mr. Thatcher’s kids. They’re good kids. But they know how it is better than their dad ever will. How this town treats some. It’s really okay, Ms. E. You don’t have to worry about me. In fact, I have a shift coming up, and well, thank you for the dinner offer, but I should go.” He blushed, hands in his pockets. “And, uh, I’ll pay you for the window. I promise.”

“You’re not paying me for the window. The way you can repay me is by letting me help. With applications, with future planning, with finding a place to stay that isn’t with Jace.”

“I can’t let you do that.”

“Then you can let me help,” I blurted.

Will’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Let me help. As is evidenced by not knowing how to do anything with that window, I can figure some things out. But you don’t have to do this alone, and you don’t have to lean on Ms. E if you don’t want to.”

That made Will smile, but he still shook his head. “I’ll pay for the window.”

“If you don’t let us help you, I will go to the sheriff,” Lizzie said, her voice stern.

I wanted to cheer for her at that moment.

Will let out a deep breath and nodded.

“Fine. I will. I promise.”

“Good. Do you have a car? Do you need a ride to Rune’s?”

“No, I don’t mind walking. And I left my bike there yesterday, since I got a ride, so I’ll be able to ride back. I got this.”