Page 58 of HateMates

“You don’t owe me an apology.”

“I do. This…person I’ve been lately is not me. Ihavebeen acting like a child. And I’m sorry. I just want a truce. No more petty shit. I know why you’re here. I’ll stop fighting it and throwing tantrums because I can’t get my way or because you don’t like me.”

“Mindy, I—”

“Nope. No explanations. They aren’t needed. I’m okay. I’ll be okay. Truce?” He doesn’t move. I hate the way my body comes to life under his perusal. I blow out a breath, getting my body under control.

After what feels like forever, he finally nods. “Truce.”

“Phew. Good. Okay. So, if you don’t have other plans, I need you to drive me somewhere.”

“And that is?”

“No questions or comments on why, okay?” Another nod. “I need you to take me to a library.” Probably not the response he expected, but he remains passive.

“I’m ready when you are.”

“Cool. Great. I’m gonna grab my things. I’ll be right back.” I head back upstairs and get my purse. When I return, Tate leads us to his waiting SUV. Like a good girl, I don’t mess with the music, locking my fidgety hands in my lap. We pull up to the library, and I wait until he’s parked to climb out with him. Look at me, being so obedient. We walk in, and I turn to Tate before we hit the information desk. “Not a word.”

“Got it.”

“Good afternoon. Can I help you?”

“Yes. I need to apply for a library card. Then can you direct me to where I can find books or a list of helpful websites for applying for college?”

Fifteen minutes later, with a new library card and a stack of books in hand, I find a table with an open computer. Entering my credentials, I log in and go to type in my search, quickly realizing I don’t know what I’m searching for. I sit there, my fingers hovering over the keys.

“Start with local colleges.”

I peer at Tate. “Huh?”

“Depending on what you’re looking for, start with community colleges or four-year universities.”

“You think I’m silly for doing this—”

“I think you’re amazing for doing this.”

Truce, truce, truce, I chant in my head, biting the inside of my cheek. I really want to jump into his lap and kiss him. “Thanks,” I say, wishing my voice wasn’t filled with emotion. “Okay,” I break our connection, “let’s start with local colleges.” Pages and pages of results pop up, and a wave of anxiety rushes through me.

“Do you mind if I try something?”

I shake my head and move over so Tate can take the wheel. He changes the wording, narrowing down the search. “Here we go.” He points to the list on the screen. “These are even more localized and will give you a breakdown of what classes they offer. Some are only community. It may be a good place to start until you figure out what you want to major in.”

“There are so many options; I have no idea where to start.” He smiles, and I’m back to chomping on my cheek.

“That’s okay. Most people don’t.” Sliding his hand over mine, he takes control of the mouse. “Here’s a list of tech schools. You want a specific field or job training, these would be where to look.” He scrolls down. “This one is business. Fine arts. And I believe this one focuses on performing arts.”

I let out a cynical laugh. “I think I missed the window on that opportunity.”

“How so? It takes more than dancers to create a performance.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” He continues to scroll. “Did you ever think about going to college?” I ask.

He cocks his head. “What makes you think I didn’t?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I assumed.”

“It’s okay. I took online classes during my second tour. It wasn’t easy, but I managed to graduate with a bachelor’s in business.”

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