CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Kaia
Alba sat on the same windowsill as yesterday, needles flashing as she worked a ball of pink yarn in her lap. The last of the sunlight caught and shimmered across it.
“I didn’t know you could knit,” I said. I’d always wanted to learn but never had anyone to teach me.
She set the needles down. “It’s relaxing. Where’s your backpack?”
I stepped closer. She shifted to the side, making room for me.
“I don’t know what to do.” I climbed up beside her, settling against the glass.
“I don’t want to be here, but I also don’t want to screw up my future.
If I went back home—assuming my dad let me—I wouldn’t magically be free.
I’d still need to study for the SATs. The other option would be a job, but what could I get at eighteen that pays enough to rent an apartment? ”
Alba rubbed a strand of yarn between her fingers. “You probably wouldn’t have many options.”
“Right.” I swallowed. “And I don’t want Ash—the guy I tried calling last night—to think I can’t manage on my own.
He’d want to help, but then I’d just go from depending on my father to depending on him, and that’s not what Mom wanted.
Before she died…” I’d never told this to anyone, but Alba was here, patient and willing to listen, and unlike Mandy, I felt that she wouldn’t judge me.
“She told me I was smart enough to do what she couldn’t—to get a degree and a job.
I feel like I already failed her. I repeated a year. ”
Alba leaned her head against the glass. “If it makes you feel better, I’m a year behind too. Dad insisted on a sabbatical after Mom passed. Neither of us was okay, so we traveled the world for a year. He’s a football coach, and he took a break between contracts.”
“I’m sorry about your mom.”
“It’s fine,” she said quietly. “You learn to live with it. What’s your dad’s deal?”
“My father owns a motorcycle racing team.” But he’d never take a sabbatical with me. He didn’t even take a day off when I was sick. It was always Mom—and then nobody. Admitting that out loud felt too raw. I’d already told Alba things I hadn’t confessed to my therapist.
“I don’t know your whole story,” she said, “but from what I’ve seen, you’re hard on yourself. Losing someone isn’t easy. Did you ever let yourself grieve?”
Tears burned my eyes. I should’ve been over it by now. It had been almost six years. “I don’t think I’ve ever stopped.” I rubbed my face with my palms. “She wanted me to go to college. I just want to make her proud.”
Alba nodded. “Lots of things about this place suck. The uniform skirt—you flash your ass every time the wind blows. The stupid no-phone rule. Some girls are awful, too. But academically, this is the best school your dad could’ve chosen.”
“It’s also conveniently far from Stetbourg. I think that was his deciding factor.”
“And Teagan called him lovely.” Alba scoffed. “Not that I’m surprised. She sucks up to every authority figure in a ten-mile radius.”
I cracked a smile. “Didn’t realize it was that bad between you two.”
“That’s why I avoid the room when she’s there. Once she tattled to Sarah that Dad brought me sushi when he visited. Not even against the rules. If she knew I had a phone, she’d sprint to the office.”
I’d shoved my diary under my pillow. I should’ve hidden it in a drawer. “Good to know.”
A faint buzzing came from Alba’s side. “Speaking of phones.”
My pulse quickened even though the odds of Asher texting were slim. At least he’d read my message.
She glanced at the screen. “It’s for you.”
I took her cell with shaky fingers and stared at the text. What the hell could he mean by Te puedo ver?
“He says he can see me,” I whispered.
She grinned. “Then he must be here. Visiting hours are over, so we’ll need to figure something out.”
I laughed, startled. “No. Impossible.”
“Why? Is he a rule stickler like Teagan?”
When it came to me, he’d break every rule without hesitation. “Not even close,” I murmured. “But he had a race today. I don’t think he’d have time to come here.”
Unless he’d risked his life speeding across half the country. That sounded exactly like something he’d do.
Alba patted my thigh and nodded toward the window. A cold weight settled on my skirt—the key to the French doors. “Sometimes it’s nice to be wrong. Go before anyone sees him. I’ll cover for you. Just be back before breakfast.”
One glance at the backyard, and my heart soared. Asher stood partly hidden by the trees, but he was too tall, too beautiful to stay inconspicuous for long.
“Thank you.” I pulled Alba into a quick, impulsive hug, then dashed to the glass door.
I wanted to shout his name but couldn’t risk it. My sneakers slapped the cobblestones, and when he heard me coming, his smile spread—tired but dazzling.
“Peque.” He wrapped me up, a hand sliding into my hair, pressing me to his chest until I felt the steady thud of his heart beneath his black shirt.
Lips I’d ached for found mine, and I cupped his cheek, drinking him in.
Cool water on a scorching day. The gentle press of his mouth.
Mint on his tongue. The heat of his body cocooning me in safety.
He kissed my forehead, nose, cheeks, so tenderly every I’m fine I’d fed him over the last ten days broke loose, spilling into tears.
“Tranquila,” Asher whispered, rubbing my back, “I’m here. Everything’s all right.”
“How did you—”
He pressed a finger to my lips. “Later. Let’s go before anyone sees us.”
He laced his fingers through mine and led me across the field toward the woods.
I caught a glimpse of the gates, but we kept walking until trees closed in.
Turns out, the property wasn’t even fenced.
After a few minutes, we stepped onto the road.
That was how Bree and the others had sneaked out. Much easier than I’d imagined.
Alejandro’s black Lexus idled at the curb.
“Are you taking me somewhere?” I asked.
Ash unlocked the car with a click. “Yeah. It’s a surprise. You’ll like it. Palabra.”
Of course, I would. He didn’t need to promise me anything.
We climbed in. He slid behind the wheel and turned to me, gaze soft. “I missed you.”
“Me too.” I laced our fingers together. “You must’ve broken a lot of laws to get here this fast. You shouldn’t have.”
Ash sighed and lifted my hand to his lips. His mouth brushed my knuckles before he set it gently in his lap. “I couldn’t go another week without knowing how you really were. What’s this no-phone-rule bullshit? You said you texted me from someone else’s phone. Does this rule only apply to you?”
“No.” I hugged my knees. “My roommate Alba has a contraband phone she keeps hidden. It’s from her dad.”
Asher frowned. “Let me guess—Russell didn’t care that you’d be without a phone.”
“You know him.” I tapped the dashboard. “It’s been a week, and he hasn’t even called.”
“He wasn’t at the race today,” Asher said. “He definitely has time. I’m sorry he left you here alone.”
To him it had never been about spare hours; it was his lack of interest. Willowbrook might have boasted the best academic results among the private schools, but to my father the biggest advantage was the distance.
“That’s my father for you,” I said. “Have you spoken to your mother?”
Asher shook his head. “I haven’t been home much. Training kept me busy, and when I wasn’t training, I spent time with Ale.” He hesitated, like there was more to say, then swallowed it.
“How was the race?” I asked.
“Not bad. Another win.” He said it flatly, no heat in his voice.
I traced the back of his hand with my fingertip. “Aren’t you happy you won?”
His shoulders rose and fell under his black T-shirt. “I am. It was easy. It had more to do with my focus than with the level of the competition.”
Easy? I wondered if he was bored—or if staying with Forward Racing kept him close to me at the cost of his own growth. He played with my fingers, thumb smoothing the nail beds. The things he wouldn’t say hung between us.
“Do you think you made a mistake signing with my father’s team?” I asked.
“I don’t know.” He looked at the road. “At the time it felt right. I need to win this season.”
“Because of Ethan?” I pushed.
“And my future.” He met my eyes. “If I want a shot at a bigger team, my record needs to be spotless. Not tonight, peque. I’d rather know how you’ve been.”
As he drove, I told him about my first week at Willowbrook, about Alba, and what happened to Bree.
“Poor girl,” Asher said. “It doesn’t make sense that they ban phones and can’t even keep students safe. I went in without using the gates.”
I kept my failed escape plans to myself. He looked worn, and I didn’t want to add to that—he’d want to fix everything, and he had races to win. He’d already given up sleep to be with me.
“What would you have done if you couldn’t get in?” I asked.
His mouth tipped into a soft smile. “I would’ve found a way, peque. But you can’t rely on your roommate to call me. Open the glove compartment.”
What I found there made me stare. “Ash—this is too much.” My chest warmed. The distance hurt him too.
“What’s too much? Being able to ask for help, call me when you’re homesick, or just talk?”
I smoothed a fingertip over the small box containing the phone he’d bought me. “Thank you. You shouldn’t have spent so much—after paying Ethan, you need to save.”
He snorted. “Who else am I supposed to spend it on? Ale? There’s nobody more important to me than you, Kaia. Just take the phone. I slept like shit all week wondering if they were treating you right. I’m not asking for constant texts; I just want to be able to reach you.”
I’d have to be careful with Teagan, but being able to talk to Ash beat the risk of her tattling.
“Okay,” I whispered and brushed my knuckles over his jaw. He kissed my hand and changed lanes. The thought of spending the night together made me giddy. Luckily, we didn’t have check-ins with Sarah at bedtime for now, or I’d be in trouble.