23. Hailey
23
HAILEY
“Hey, Hailey, have you got a second?”
Ian appeared the second I walked into the frat house the next day. I groaned inwardly. The last thing I needed was another heartfelt-but-painful conversation like the one I’d had yesterday with Theo.
“Everything’s fine, Ian. I’m glad you got the stipend. I’m not mad. Well, nice talking to you, see you later.”
“Hailey,” he scolded, catching my arm as I tried to slip past him.
I sighed. “Really, Ian, I’m okay. I’m not mad. All is well in the world. Let’s just move on, okay?”
“That’s not even what I wanted to talk to you about.”
His face was earnest, but I was suspicious. “It’s not?”
“No. It’s about John,” he sighed.
Crap, had his advisor taken a turn for the worse? “Is he okay?”
“He’s just depressed, spending all that time alone in the nursing home. I think he’d like you to visit.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. He likes you. You’re friendly, you’re kind, and let’s face it, you’re pretty. Men appreciate that even when they’re old and sick.”
I was torn. On the one hand, it wouldn’t hurt me to go cheer up a sick old man. On the other hand, well, yeah, it kind of would hurt me. “I just can’t go to that kind of place anymore. It makes me miss my grandfather.”
He looked genuinely distressed. “I’m sorry, I forgot about that.” He paused, and it seemed like he was debating something internally. “But just this once? Please?”
I finally said yes. Not as much for John as for Ian. Things had been a little strained between Ian and me lately, and I hated that that was the case. “All right. Let me go change.”
“Thanks, Hailey.”
I hadn’t been in Ian’s SUV since the night his advisor had the stroke in the first place. I tried not to think about that as Ian drove down the road to Haverford nursing home.
And then right past it.
Wait, what? “You forgot to turn.”
He chuckled. “I did, didn’t I? You must’ve been like, what the hell, is this guy trying to kidnap me?’”
I laughed, even though it wasn’t all that funny.
He looked over at me and smiled. “Yes, I am.”
My forehead wrinkled. “Yes, you are what?”
“Kidnapping you,” he said cheerfully. But then he switched tasks before I could even say what the hell. “I’m sure John really would like a visit from you, but I understand why you’d prefer not to go.”
“Thanks. Can we get back to the kidnapping thing?”
He avoided the question. “Have you eaten lunch?”
“No.” I’d just gotten back to the frat house.
“Good. Then I’m going to take you to the best restaurant in the world.”
Ian was acting so strange. Was he having a manic episode? Or actually kidnapping me. I wasn’t too worried about the latter, but I was beginning to wonder about the former.
And then I really questioned his sanity when he turned into the parking lot and pulled up to the speaker.
Had he really just brought me to the drive through at a chicken fast food restaurant?
My mouth hung open in surprise as he ordered two meals and two sodas. And he never drank soda, though that was hardly the most pressing matter at the moment.
He handed me the bag after he paid at the window.
“That’s the best restaurant in the world?”
“Yep. Haven’t you eaten their chicken before?”
“Yeah, but?—”
“It’s good.”
“Yeah, but—” This conversation was going in circles.
Ian turned again, this time into a park, a pretty green spot with a lake in the middle. He drove to the far side of the lake, parked so that we could see the water, and stopped the car.
I was so utterly confused when he handed me one of the meals.
“What’s going on?”
He took a bite of a chicken strip. “When I was a kid, my mom used to take me to the drive through once a month. I’d look forward to it for weeks. But some months, we wouldn’t go.”
“Why,” I asked in spite of myself.
“Because we didn’t have the money.”
My jaw dropped again. He was in the most elite frat and an expensive private university. What the hell was he talking about?”
He smiled at my confusion. “Eat your chicken, and I’ll explain.”
I was too astonished to do anything other than what he said. The chicken was pretty tasty. “My grandfather sometimes got this for me, too.”
He nodded. “And didn’t you think, when you were a kid, that it was a real treat? A special break from the ordinary?”
I nodded.
“Most Langley students have probably never even tasted this chicken, because they grew up in middle-class, or in most cases, upper-class households who probably thought fast food was beneath them. But that’s not how you grew up—and it’s not how I did.”
I sipped my soda as I stared at him, hanging on every word. “But how did you end up here at Langley?”
“My story starts before that. In high school. My mom and I lived in northern Virginia. Well, she still does. In a town probably not too dissimilar to the one you grew up in. And we never had enough money. Ever.”
“So how did you end up meeting Grant and Theo?”
“They lived closer to the capital, since Bennett’s father was in congress and Grant’s dad represented a lot of politicians and important people. And Theo’s dad kept his home base there though he flew all over the world for projects. The three of them went to a world-class private high school that offered them every advantage a student could possibly get. It was a school I never would have set foot in, but I got a scholarship.”
“To a high school?”
“To a private high school, yes. They had a few slots open for kids that weren’t from rich families, just so that they could brag about how generous they were.” He sighed. “It was an entirely different world for me, and I struggled at first. But then I made friends with Grant and Theo. And ever since then, I’ve followed them. Or they’ve pulled me along.”
“What do you mean?” I was focusing so hard on his words that I accidentally squeezed my soda and spilled it on my pants.
“They paved the way for me. When they decided to go to Langley, Grant and Theo searched high and low for a way to get me here, too. Because there was no way I could’ve afforded the tuition, and I didn’t qualify for that scholarship for native Georgians the way you did.”
“So what happened?”
“My buddies got their parents to make a scholarship. Grant and Bennett’s dad got some board he was on to create a scholarship for a ‘deserving student’.” He used air quotes for that. “And that’s how I got into Langley.”
“I had no idea.” A new thought hit, making the food in my stomach turn to led. “So you did need the housing stipend. I’m sorry that I thought you didn’t.”
He turned to me, his face clouding. “Yes and no. I wanted it so that I could pay for my room at the frat house. I wanted to pay my own way. But if I didn’t get it, I knew it was okay. Grant and Theo would cover me. It’s a backup plan that I don’t want to need—but I sometimes do.”
“But… but Theo said you were going to give up the housing stipend for me.”
“I was,” he said solemnly, and I squeezed his arm.
“I can’t believe you were going to do that for me when you actually needed it.”
“I’ve grown pretty fond of you, Hailey. We all have.”
I barely heard that, because despite all these revelations, I was still bitter about the housing stipend. But not at him. Not anymore. “I’m sorry you went through all that trouble, only to find out that I was too dumb to make the cut.”
“And that brings us to our next agenda point,” he said mildly. “I’m going to need you to stop saying that.”
“Why? It’s true. I’m struggling in my class. And I barely passed one in the spring.”
“The spring semester in which your grandfather died? Don’t you think that might have had something to do with it?”
I shrugged. “He’s gone, yet I’m still struggling.”
“Because you’re living life on hard mode, Hailey.”
I frowned, unsure what he meant.
“It’s like in those video games we sometimes play. There’s an easy mode where you have all the luck and get supplies and resources everywhere you look. And then there’s also a hard mode, where the deck is completely stacked against you, and you have to fight for every single thing you have.” He picked up my hand and squeezed it between both of his.
“You’re living life on the hard mode, so of course you’re struggling in your classes. You’re working multiple jobs. You have been since your first day on campus. You’re worried about where you’re going to live. Howe you’re going to be able to afford books. Is it any wonder that you can’t spend as much time studying as the other students in your class? I’ve seen your light on late at night. Do you think you’re at your best in class when you’ve only had a few hours of sleep?”
I sucked in a breath. Did that mean he was Night Owl, since he knew how late I stayed up?
Unexpectedly, he brought my hand up to his mouth and planted a kiss on my knuckles. And also unexpectedly, I felt a tear roll down my face.
“Please don’t call yourself dumb, Hailey. You’ve done amazing things with far fewer resources than anyone else I know. You’re smart, hard-working, resourceful, and beautiful. I know that last one’s not something you’ve earned through hard work, but I had to say it because it’s true.”
Ian took the food bag off my lap and set it on the dashboard. He did the same to his and then he unfastened both our seatbelts. He leaned in, reaching up to stroke my hair. “You’re not dumb,” he said softly. “You’re smart, And beautiful. And amazing, and I really want to kiss you right now. May I?”
It was still so much to process. I’d never dreamed that Ian and I had shared a similar background. I hadn’t known that anyone in that house did. But he’d done what I thought was impossible. He’d made me feel better about myself.
And I really wanted to kiss him, too.
I nodded and he cupped the back of my head, pulling me toward him. We met in the middle, our lips smashing together as I reached out for him. It was an unusual kiss with a gear shift between us and a family of ducks watching us from the pond in front of us.
Yet it was amazing. He took his time, exploring my mouth. Pulling me close. Showing me, this time without using words, that he cared.
When he finally let me go, he smiled and his tongue pushed out between his teeth, the way it sometimes did when he was studying. “You taste like chicken,” he said with a gentle smile.
“Do I?” I smiled back at him. “Are you sure? Maybe you’d better check again to be sure.”
“Gladly,” he said, and he pulled me close again.
He took the long route back, both so we could see the mountains and so we’d have more time to talk. I had so many questions about him—things I’d never dared to ask before.
“Does this—your past, I mean—have anything to do with why your room is so bare?”
He glanced away from the road ahead for just a second. “You’re perceptive.”
“It does?” I’d just taken a shot in the dark.
“Yeah. I do have a little more money to call my own these days. I worked last summer, and I’ve done some tutoring and a few things online, and I apply for every grant and stipend out there. Plus, I don’t have to worry so much about money because my best friends have my back. But I’ve seen other people, when I’ve gone back to visit my mom. Our hometown isn’t in the best shape. And sometimes I’ve seen it happen that when people finally get a little money of their own, after a lifetime of being poor, they go overboard. They buy too much stuff and never get rid of what they have.”
“Because they remember what it felt like to have nothing.”
“Exactly. Even people who had very little money could fall into that trap. If you had ten dollars, you could buy one meal. But if you went to a dollar shop, you could buy ten things and feel like a king. Some of my mother’s neighbors’ houses are like that, and some even approach hoarding territory.”
“So you did the opposite,” I realized. “And kept your place bare.”
He grinned. ”I prefer to think of it as minimalism. Theo, however, is chomping at the bit for a chance to give my room a makeover.”
I laughed at that. “Thank you, Ian. For all of this today. For sharing your story. For making me feel better about myself.”
“I’m very glad I could do that. And now there aren’t any more secrets between us.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” I told him. “There's still one thing I absolutely have to know.”
“Yeah?”
“What the hell is up with the 80s music?”
He laughed so hard that the car swerved. “Would you believe that I just like it?”
“No.” Very few people in our generation did.
“Well, too bad, because it’s true. But there is a story behind it. When I was a kid, my mom had an old car that was constantly breaking down. Half the electrical system didn’t work, so the radio got stuck on one channel and wouldn’t budge.”
“80s music,” I groaned.
“Exactly. But honestly, I do like it. It’s kind of me and my mom’s thing.”
I glanced down at the more complex music system he had in this car. “And if I turned that on right now, would I hear 80s music?”
“No.” His voice was convincing, but when I reached out to turn it on, he smacked my hand away, and I laughed. “So is that all you want to know?”
I thought it over. “Yes.”
He grinned, studying the road ahead of us.
Suddenly, I was suspicious. “Is there more I should know about?”
“Maybe.” He was clearly enjoying himself. “There was one other thing I thought you’d ask about.”
“Can I get a hint?” His teasing was turning me on.
“Sure.” He slanted me a sideways look, and then asked me a question. “Are you keeping warm enough at night?”
That was the kind of thing Night Owl sometimes asked when I was lying in bed, so at first, I thought this was Ian’s way of admitting it was him.
But then I gasped. “You bought the bedding for me?”
“Yep.”
“Oh my god, thank you! Those are the nicest sheets I’ve ever had. And that blanket. The concept of a weighted blanket always seemed weird to me, but I love mine. You’d have to pry it out of my cold, dead hand to get it from me.”
He grinned. “Noted.”
I reached out, stroking his arm. “Seriously, Ian, thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I remember the days when I couldn’t afford the things I needed. So I thought I’d lend you an anonymous hand.”
The word anonymous made me think of Night Owl yet again, but so far, Ian hadn’t confessed to anything like that. “Okay, so we’re good now? Nothing else I should know about?”
“Nothing else,” he said, but there was a glint in his eyes.
“What?”
“There was also the cookbook?”
“Really?” I gasped. “I thought that was supposed to be an insult about my abilities!”
He laughed and patted my thigh as we drove back.
I almost didn’t want to part company with Ian when we reached the house, but we both had things to do. In an hour or two, I’d have to start dinner, so I headed up to my room to do a little studying before then.
I’d barely settled at my desk when I got a message on my phone.
Hey sweetheart. How are you doing?
It was Night Owl? We hadn’t chatted in a few days, so I was definitely surprised.
It seems strange, hearing from you during the day. What happened to being nocturnal? I typed back.
What can I say, I miss you. I keep thinking about you. Do you think about me?
Sure , I typed, but I frowned. Night Owl seemed a bit more charming after midnight than he was in the middle of the day.
Do you think about me when you touch yourself at night?
I stared at the screen, having to reread to make sure I’d seen it right. He hadn’t mentioned that erotic experience we’d shared, and it seemed a bit crude that he would bring it up now. Whatever happened to small talk? But I answered briefly. Sure.
Why don’t you touch yourself right now? Take off your clothes and make yourself cum. Then send me a picture.
What??
I just want a few nudes. What’s the big deal?
My mouth hung open as I stared at the screen. Why are you saying this?
Don’t be such a prude. You flicked your bean for me the other day, so you can do it again. Or better yet, I’ll come over there and do it for you.
Don’t come here , I typed in a panic.
Then stop being a cocktease and send some nudes.
My heart pounded painfully in my chest as I typed the last thing I’d ever say to him. Don’t ever contact me again.