Chapter 18
Nick
Ismile at the road ahead as I drive back to the Hollis U campus with Poppy.
“I’m so pumped to be an uncle,” I say.
I glance over at Poppy, smiling at me from the passenger seat.
“You’re going to be a great uncle,” she says. A warm feeling settles in my chest at how good it feels hearing her say that.
“You really think so?” I ask.
“Yeah. You’re going to be fun Uncle Nick for sure. I can picture it now: you’re going to sneak that kid candy for dinner and let them stay up way past their bedtime.”
I chuckle. “Oh, definitely. Ryker’s gonna hate me.”
She shakes her head. “You’re going to be really sweet, too. If it’s a girl, I bet she’ll want to play dress up and do makeup and nail polish with you. And you’re going to say yes to all of it.”
I grin wide. “Absolutely, I will. Dressing up and makeup and nails are fun as hell. I’ll take her out, and we’ll get manis and pedis together if she wants.”
Her head falls back as she laughs.
We come to a stop at a red light, and she stares at me, the look on her face warm. “You’re so sweet.”
Tingles fly through my chest. I’m so used to Poppy rolling her eyes and dismissing me. It feels really, really good to hear her call me sweet. To hear her say that she thinks I’m going to be a good uncle.
“You gotta come to our mani-pedi dates too,” I say, pulling forward when the light turns green.
She laughs softly and shakes her head. “Okay. Maybe.”
I head toward the edge of campus. Her phone rings. She frowns at her phone screen.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
She sighs. “Yeah, it’s just my parents. I’ve been putting off talking to them. I’d better take this, sorry.”
“It’s okay, go ahead.”
I wonder why she’s been putting off talking to them. I’ve never met them, but I know they work a lot in high-stress jobs. They’re super successful lawyers who always seem to be busy.
“Hey, Dad.” I notice her light, happy tone from earlier is gone. Her voice is softer, more serious now.
I turn onto her street and pull into one of the free spaces in front of her apartment building.
“No, I didn’t get the internship.”
I notice her shoulders sink, and she’s gnawing at her bottom lip like she’s nervous.
She’s quiet for a while as she listens to whatever her dad is saying to her on the other line.
After a minute, she closes her eyes and leans back against the headrest, like she’s suddenly exhausted.
“Yes, Dad. I know…well, it was a really competitive applicant pool. You know that.”
She opens her mouth to say more, but then snaps it shut. She purses her lips like she’s annoyed.
“I’ve heard this a million times from you….Yes, I know how important a good internship is for getting into law school…Yes, I’m working hard to make up for that deficiency. I’m always working hard.”
Deficiency? That’s not a word I would ever use to describe anything that Poppy does. What is her dad going on about? Wait, is he mad that she didn’t get that internship?
“Well, I think I’ll be a strong candidate for Stanford Law School.”
There’s a tired tone to her voice, like she’s sick of fighting about this. Like she’s fought a million times about this before with her dad.
“My GPA is high, and I’ve been studying really hard for the LSAT…No, I’m not stupid, Dad…” Poppy trails off.
My brow hits my hairline. Did he just call her stupid?
I clench my jaw, annoyed. Poppy’s the smartest person I know. She gets perfect grades and spends all of her time studying and working at the Writing Center. I’d bet anything she’ll kick ass on the LSAT when she takes it. And I’d bet anything that she’ll get into Stanford when she applies, too.
She huffs out a heavy breath. “Well, I don’t think it’s pointless, Dad…The work that I do at the Writing Center is really fulfilling for me. So is my volunteer work…”
She closes her eyes again and lets out another defeated sigh.
The urge to grab the phone out of her hand and go off on her dad takes hold. What the hell is this guy’s problem? Does he not realize how brilliant his daughter is?
“Fine. I’ll do it after fall break,” she says. She stares straight ahead, the look in her eyes almost detached. “Okay, bye.”
She hangs up. She blinks, her eyes teary. “Sorry about that,” she says in a weak voice.
A protective feeling surges through me, seeing her struggling not to cry.
“What was that about?” I ask.
She tugs at the hem of her sweater, her gaze glued to her lap. “Just my dad. He’s upset that I didn’t get that internship.”
“So he went off on you? That’s messed up.”
She shrugs again and sniffles, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her sweater. “That’s my dad. He expects only the best from me.”
A tight pain shoots through my chest. I don’t like seeing her so sad and defeated.
“Poppy, you are the best.”
“I’m really not,” she says softly.
My mouth hangs open at how she dismisses herself.
I grab her hand. “Look at me, Poppy.”
She turns her head to me, those big, hazel eyes sad. That ache in my chest deepens, and a wild feeling claws up my chest. This isn’t right. Someone as amazing as Poppy shouldn’t feel bad about herself. Ever.
I’m desperate for her to believe my words. Desperate for her to understand just how amazing she is.
I hold her gaze. “You, Poppy, are the best. Hands down, no question. You are the fucking best.”
Her eyes widen at the conviction in my tone.
“You’re the smartest person I know. You’re the most accomplished and most impressive student at Hollis. Without a doubt.”
She’s quiet as she stares at me, like she’s taking in everything I’m saying.
“You have a perfect GPA, you volunteer, you work as a tutor, and you’re a YouTube star.”
She cracks a small smile. “I’m not a YouTube star.”
“You absolutely fucking are,” I say without missing a beat.
She looks down at our joined hands. “I don’t even have a hundred thousand followers,” she mumbles.
“You will. It’s gonna happen soon.”
She looks back at me, her eyes shy but hopeful now. Like what I’m saying is actually resonating.
“How can you be so sure?” she asks after a second.
“Because I’ve seen how hard you work. And you’re the best because of it. Anyone who doesn’t see that is a fucking idiot.”
She blinks at me. This time when she smiles, her entire expression is warm. That tight feeling in my chest fades.
“Thank you. I really needed to hear that.” She sniffles again. I dig a clean tissue from the pocket of my joggers and gently wipe her nose.
She smiles again and takes the tissue from me. She dabs at her cheeks. “Sorry about that phone call.”
“It’s okay,” I say. “What’s not okay is your dad talking down to you.”
Her gaze falls to our joined hands again. “He’s always been like that.”
“An asshole?”
I bite the tip of my tongue the second the words leave my mouth. I shouldn’t have said that.
But Poppy just nods. “Yeah, kind of.” She tugs at her ponytail with her free hand. “He and my mom are pretty intense about their careers. They take a lot of pride in being corporate lawyers.”
She’s quiet for a second. I want to say that doesn’t give her dad the right to make her feel like crap, but I hold back. She’s opening up to me, and I want to give her the space and comfort to do that.
I give her hand a gentle squeeze.
“He holds himself to a pretty high standard. So does my mom. They went to Stanford Law School. They both got near-perfect LSAT scores. They both had incredible grades and graduated at the top of their classes. They both worked really hard and expected themselves to be perfect. They expect the same from me.”
“You’re just as good as they are, Poppy. Better, even. I bet neither of them had a YouTube channel with thousands of followers.”
She starts to smile and shakes her head. A second later, her smile fades. “They actually don’t know about my YouTube channel.”
“Why not?”
“I didn’t tell them.” She lets out a heavy breath.
“They think anything that’s not directly related to law school or getting into law school is a waste of time.
When I first started tutoring, they weren’t crazy about it.
They thought it would take away from my study time to get into law school.
They only dropped it when I told them that my academic advisor thought it would look good on my law school applications. ”
I tug a hand through my hair, annoyed as hell. “That’s fucked up,” I mutter.
“That’s why I keep my YouTube channel a secret. I do it because I love teaching and connecting with people. It’s a break from all the law school stuff.”
“I can’t believe your parents are so strict. Everyone else’s parents would be psyched out of their minds to have a perfect kid like you.”
Her eyes sparkle when she looks up at me.
“My parents would be ecstatic if I were like you.”
“Your parents love you, Nick. They wouldn’t trade you for anything.”
She’s right. I’m grateful to have the parents that I do.
They’ve always been supportive and loving, no matter what I did.
Even in high school, when I got caught ditching school and sneaking out of the house, they loved me.
They punished me, of course, but they never stopped caring about me and being proud of me.
“Believe me, they would have gladly traded us in high school,” I tease. “You were polite, followed the rules, and got perfect grades. I was a troublemaker who refused to do my homework and constantly drove them nuts.”
She chuckles softly. Sadness flashes in her big hazel eyes. “Your parents are so great. I’m honestly a little jealous of how sweet and supportive they are of you and Anna. You guys can do whatever you want, and they’re proud of you.”
She glances straight ahead at the darkened apartment building. “I have to follow the plan my parents laid out for me. Perfect student with perfect grades and test scores. Get into a top ten law school. Work at a prestigious law firm, just like them. They want me to follow in their footsteps.”
“Is that what you want?”
She turns back to me. For a second, she hesitates, like she’s not so sure if she should speak.
“For a long time, that’s what I wanted,” she finally says. “But now I’m not so sure.”
She says it quietly, almost like she’s afraid to admit to herself.
I give her hand another soft squeeze. With my other hand, I cup her cheek and hold her gaze.
“That’s okay,” I say gently. “It’s okay for you to want different things from your parents, Poppy. It’s okay for you to follow your own dreams.”
She nods. “I know.”
I gently run my thumb over her soft skin. Our gazes are locked together, and the air around us is thick and charged. Probably because we’re touching and there’s no reason for it. We’re not in front of anyone. We don’t need to convince anyone we’re a couple in this moment.
But I don’t care about any of that. I need to touch Poppy, to hold her, to make sure she understands that I’m here for her.
She swallows. I watch, mesmerized by the way her delicate throat moves.
“I should go,” she says.
I pull my hands away from her, even though I don’t want to. Even though I want to keep touching her and holding her and telling her how amazing she is. I want to do it until she believes it, until the look in her beautiful eyes shifts from uncertain to happy.
I get out of the car and follow her to the front of her apartment building. She stops at the door and turns to me.
“Thanks for the talk,” she says. She bites her lip, and raw want surges through me.
I want to press her against the door, run my hands all over her while I kiss her, and tell her how fucking incredible she is.
I clear my throat and plant my feet on the ground. “Anytime you need a reminder of how perfect and amazing you are, Poppy, just come to me.”
A beautiful smile blooms across her face. “I will.”
She opens the door and steps inside.
“Text me when you’re inside your apartment,” I say.
She smiles and nods.
A minute later, when I’m back in my car, I get her text.
I’m in. Thanks again for everything.
I text back a thumbs up and drive home. The rest of the night, I think about Poppy. I think about how, if she were really my girlfriend, she’d never, ever doubt how incredible she is. I’d make her feel it every moment of every day.