Chapter Forty-Two Keely
Chapter Forty-Two
Keely
The call connected, and Keely’s dad’s face appeared on her laptop screen. This was a computer activity, like buying plane tickets or making a spreadsheet.
She didn’t recognize his background; this must be his new apartment. The one where she’d have to share a room with her little brother if she ever visited, because two bedrooms were cheaper than three.
Her stomach churned. “Hey, Dad.”
He grinned. “I’m glad we could talk. I had a question about the graduation ceremony. Do people with tickets have to sit together, because I don’t—”
The line clicked as her mom jumped on the call, a bright smile in place. “Hi, sweetheart.”
Her dad’s grin, however, faded. “Veronica? What are you doing here? Keely, what’s she doing here?”
Keely’s mother’s angry flush spread one pixel at a time. “Good question. I’ve got better things to do than listen to your—”
“Mom, just stop. Actually, both of you stop!” Keely shouted.
Judging from the way her parents froze, it might have been the first time ever.
“I have to talk to you.” She wished for a second she’d taken up Zoey’s offer to be here for this, but Keely needed to start figuring things out by herself. Lay out her expectations.
“And I need you to focus on me instead of tearing pieces off each other. It’s important,” she added, because they couldn’t see her strangling the edge of the couch.
Her parents managed to share a look, even though they were separated by a screen and a divorce. “Is everything okay?” Dad said.
“I’m not going to grad school,” Keely said before she lost the nerve. She’d made up her mind. Knew what she wanted, mess and uncertainty and all. “At least, not right away.”
“What?” Mom laughed, but it was her panicked one that pinched at the edges.
“Mom, please listen. I’ve wanted to say this for a while.”
Her mother fell silent, and Keely had the floor.
She started from the beginning. Her grad school application, how she didn’t want to ask them to co-sign because they’d already incurred so much of their own debt going through the divorce. Pursue Your Passions and the subsequent volunteering at the school. Realizing she wanted to teach instead.
Once she cracked the safe, everything spilled out. She told them about Max, their reconnection, their stupid prank war. Their falling in love.
Keely’s falling in love. She couldn’t say the same of Max. She wiped the skin beneath her eyes until it was raw.
“I know it sounds like it, but I’m not throwing away my future for—for Max or anything,” Keely repeated, firmer, clearly, even though his name scraped over her tongue like sandpaper.
“I’m closer to finding myself now more than ever.
And I know you’re still figuring out how to coexist. But I’m going to need you both to—to swallow your egos and be on my side while I do that. ”
Dad rubbed at his jaw, and Mom pressed her lips together into a tight line. Another look between them on the screen. Keely wondered if they’d always be able to do that, even if they weren’t in love.
It gave Keely a little hope that one day she’d see Max, hear his name, and it wouldn’t feel like her heart was being hole punched.
Her mom shifted. “Why wouldn’t you tell us any of this, Keely? This is a lot to carry on your own.”
Keely stared at the women of science hanging over the television and prayed for an ounce of their wisdom. “I tried so many times, but you both found a way to bring it back to the divorce. There wasn’t any room for my problems.”
A thick beat of silence before Dad cupped his neck. “How long have you felt this way, punk?”
Keely’s parents blurred on the screen. Silly tears. She blinked them back and tried to answer honestly. “At least since you told us about the divorce. Probably longer. Whenever you were fighting, basically, for as long as I can remember.”
Mom wiped at her own face. “I—I’m so sorry, sweetheart. Of course there’s space for you. I feel absolutely terrible you didn’t feel like you could come to us. And I’m mad that we didn’t see that you were hurting.”
Keely shrugged, staring at the last remaining fleck of banana, dried and stuck between the M and K on her keyboard. “You were hurting, too.”
“Hurting or not, we shouldn’t have done that.” Dad chuckled, but it was raw, wet, and Keely wasn’t surprised when he wiped at his own eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m—we’re going to do better.”
“For Vince, too,” Keely said. “He’s getting more of it than I am. Just because he’s quiet doesn’t mean he doesn’t need support.”
“Oh, honey.” Mom threw another look at Dad. “You really are so, so smart. You’ve got so much—”
“Please don’t say ‘potential,’ ” Keely blurted. “I love that you think so, but if I hear that one more time I might throw up.”
“I was going to say passion,” Mom mumbled, and Dad’s mouth quirked like he was fighting a smile.
He gave a small nod. “So I guess you’ll be moving home after graduation, after all? How about we sit down together—all of us—and work your next steps out face to face?”
“Can you be cordial for that?” Keely said without thinking.
“We’ll figure it out for you,” Dad said, looking a little sheepish, and her mom nodded emphatically.
“And for Vince,” Keely reminded them.
Her parents weren’t okay—but maybe they could be. If not all the time, then at least when she and her baby brother were around.
“So. . . Max Simmons, huh? We always joked you two were a love story waiting to happen.” Keely’s mom winked, and yeah, Keely’s heart still ached at his name.
“Max and I aren’t—I don’t think we—” She had no words. None that didn’t tear her wide open. She settled for, “If it was a love story, then I didn’t like the ending very much.”
· · · · ·
Later that afternoon, a soft voice welcomed her into the office that had, for the last four years, become sort of a home base for her. The pictures in the windowsill, stale coffee permeating the air, the woman smiling at her from behind the desk.
“Hi, Dr. Goff. Sorry for running off the other day. I had something important to handle.” She held out the envelope. “This is for you. . . and Tricia. A note of appreciation. And a gift card for the health spa in town. To counteract all the stress I’ve caused you over the last four years.”
Dr. Goff stood, rounding the desk. She pulled Keely into a warm hug. “Thank you. This is very thoughtful.”
To Keely’s surprise, Dr. Goff took the seat behind the desk, next to her.
“So.” Dr. Goff smiled widely. “Excited for Caltech?”
Keely ducked her chin. The more people she told, the realer it became. Guilt gnawed at the edges of her stomach; Dr. Goff had done so much for her, had stuck her neck out for Keely and answered frantic 2a.m. emails for the last four years. She was throwing away all that hard work.
But she had to be true to herself.
“I’m not going. I didn’t accept the scholarship,” Keely mumbled down at her lap. She was secretly thrilled. This was, all things considered, the best-case scenario. She knew what she wanted; she had her parents’ tentative buy-in for her new plan.
And Max won the scholarship by default.
This way, they both got to live their dreams.
Dr. Goff studied Keely, her mouth tipping up at the corner. “I had a feeling.” She rummaged on her desk and produced a stapled packet. “This is what I wanted to tell you the other day. I really think you should read this.”
Brows pinched, Keely hefted the paper and skimmed the title lines.
Pursue Your Passions, Max Simmons
What. . .? Her gaze snapped up to Dr. Goff.
The counselor sat back in her chair, sipping her tea with a knowing gleam in her eye.
Keely started reading.
At the beginning of this semester, I was selfish, rude, and would rather shut myself off from everything to avoid hurt, than allow the tiniest joy to filter in. Through necessity and fear, I was forced to let sunshine into my life.
That sunshine’s name is Keely Sinclair, the true winner of the Pursue Your Passions scholarship. She gives her heart openly, honestly, the way everyone should strive to. Her enthusiasm for teaching, for learning, has inspired my own passion toward my craft, the mark of a true leader.
Keely is a testament not only to Ash Mountain University, but to the science community in general. Anyone who knows her loves her—myself included.
Keely kept reading, kept holding her breath. This was the essay he submitted? But what about the one that poured out his dedication to running and his family legacy? This was. . .
For the first time in her life, Keely couldn’t find any words.
He’d put her heart on paper, more succinctly and beautifully than she’d ever managed, with dozens of drafts and red lines.
Max knew her. Understood her.
Loved her.
She stood so swiftly, she knocked her backpack over. A rainbow of pens and highlighters scattered onto the floor and across the carpet. Her planner splayed open, the corners bending, coil resting at an odd angle.
She dropped to her knees, scooping supplies into her backpack. She clutched Max’s essay so tightly in her other hand that some of the ink rubbed off on her skin.
She had to find him. Had to tell him how stupid it was for him to risk his shot for her.
Then kiss him forever.
Pens mostly gathered—but honestly, she didn’t care if they weren’t—Keely rounded the chair and made for the hallway.
“You forgot your planner,” Dr. Goff called after her.
With a smile, Keely planted her foot directly into the smoothie stain on the hallway carpet. “Keep it!”
· · · · ·
God, she hated running. There was a reason she’d had the same pair of gently used trainers since high school. Her preferred exercise was strolling the aisles of Barnes & Noble. She’d never so much as thought of running a 5k, and up until this moment believed she physically couldn’t.
What had Max whispered against her mouth, though? When has “can’t” ever stopped her before?