Page 55 of Full Circle

“Well we did,” Wesley replied assuredly. “For my whole life.” His megawatt smile returned.

Every fiber of my being wanted him to be right. I desperately wanted the future he planned, but no matter how much I tried to picture it, everything going forward looked blank. My mama left me and my daddy was about to join her. Why would Wesley be any different?

Not wanting to ruin the moment, I didn’t voice that thought aloud. Smiling back at him, I said, “I think we need to shower and go to bed.”

Wesley smirked. “Only if we get to shower together.”

If Mama was in the heaven Nana talked about, I sure hoped God knew how to censor things. Some experiences didn’t need to be shared with your parents, no matter how close you were.

CHAPTER 23

KEEP ON KEEPIN’ ON

WESLEY

The next couple months went by faster than I would’ve liked. Mr. Hildebrandt dropped the suspension threat when I signed a five year contract allowing all of the high school athletes to use my gym in River’s Run for free. All they had to do was show their student ID and they could work out as much as they wanted. I tried to put in an exception for Jeremy Stanbrooke, but for some reason the superintendent didn’t find that funny. Rude of him.

My father called me a week after Celeste’s birthday to ream me out about the expense of the entire day (after which I called Phillip and tore him a new asshole for not charging things to my bank account instead of my dad’s), but it was how he ended the conversation that killed me.

“I have an internship set up with our partner in China,” my father snapped. “You’ll be leaving for Shanghai the moment school ends.”

“No way! What if something happens to Mr. Hendricks?!” I yelled.

My father snorted derisively. “It’s cute that you think I give a shit.” He hung up.

I threw my phone at the wall in my rage, feeling no relief at all when it smashed into a thousand pieces and left a tiny dent in Aunt Shirley’s drywall. How the fuck was I going to leave Celeste to go to the other side of the world when her dad could die at any moment? How was I going to miss my chance to say goodbye to Doug?

There was no chance he was going to be around by August. He deteriorated rapidly after Celeste’s birthday, like he had been holding on for that occasion and the fight went out of him afterwards. All skin and bones, with pasty white skin and rattly breathing, the poor man looked like a zombie. Not that I’d ever say so to Celeste. She was already a basket case as it was.

Desiree had gotten so much worse, too. After storming out of the Georgia Aquarium when Doug stood up for Celeste, she came back to the hospital the next day, full of contrition and kisses, yet somehow still spinning the line that the entire thing had been Mr. Hendricks’ fault because he didn’t put her first. It was so fake it would have made a telenovela actress roll their eyes. By that time, though, Mr. Hendricks was already so much worse off (and I’d guess in far more pain), that he bought everything she said, hook, line, and sinker.

And my sweet girl was worse than a shell of herself. Celeste stopped caring about everything, no longer paying attention in class, doing homework, or helping Marla with The Comfy Cushion at all. Maggie and I were both at a loss as to how to help her. What can you do when the person you love is watching their parent slowly, painfully wither away before their eyes? How do you find any comfort at a time like that?

It made me so pissed off at the world. Why did fucktards like Benedict Madden and Desiree Stanbrooke get to live, spreading their malice and ugliness around like black tar, while Mr. Hendricks, the nicest guy I had ever met, had to die from a fucking brain tumor? It wasn’t fair and it would never be fair. Nana tried to quote some sort of scripture to me once, but I shot that shit down real quick; I had no patience for a god who stole good people before they were due.

My anger kept getting me in trouble, but that was hardly new. The best fight was when Jeremy himself had the audacity to run his mouth about how Celeste was “pathetic” for not taking better care of her only parent. Rearranging his teeth was the least I could do for him. When you play stupid games, you win stupid prizes. The school board didn’t even suspend me for it either. Jeremy got in trouble for bullying, which was the icing on the cake for me.

Pretty sure Desiree would have made it a far bigger issue had I not offered to present her with the hotel bill for the duration of her stay in Atlanta. She kept her mouth shut and avoided me at all costs after that. Color me broken-hearted.

The tipping point came when Celeste stopped eating and struggled to get out of bed. Unless it was a day we were heading to Atlanta, she didn’t want to be bothered with it. Nana made the treacherous climb up the tower steps and tried to light a fire under her, but even that failed. Celeste didn’t so much as roll over. It terrified me because what if I lost them both? I didn’t want to live in a world without Celeste Hendricks.

I was the one who put my foot down, screaming at every adult in our lives that Celeste was going to stay with Doug in Atlanta until she was ready to go. Willow up at the hospital was very accommodating in making a bed for her on the couch in the lounge area. It wasn’t like Desiree was ever around to use it.

Because she was so sad, such a ghost of her old self, I didn’t have the heart to tell Celeste that I was leaving for China as soon as the school year ended. It felt like every aspect of my life was a ticking time bomb; I was just tiptoeing around trying not to detonate one of them. My temper made that nearly impossible. The only person who could ever calm me down was Celeste, but that only took her away from her dad, which then made me feel like shit. That would then stoke the flames of my fury, and the cycle would start all over again.

I didn’t want to feel helpless. I didn’t want to accept that there was a problem money couldn’t solve—hadn’t that been my father’s solution for everything? Dr. Hassan was the best neurosurgeon in the world and padding his bank account didn’t do shit at the end of the day. Every instinct wanted me to lash out at him, at the rest of the doctors, the nurses—basically anyone who had anything to do with Mr. Hendricks’ medical care because it was hard to accept they were doing enough when the results were still the same: Doug Hendricks was dying.

Celeste and I were about to board the plane to fly back to Atlanta. It had been a trying day because the whole school was ecstatic for the weekend because of prom. Maggie was going with Cameron Wyatt, which she was thrilled about, but Celeste only halfheartedly responded to Maggie’s questions about dresses, shoes, and hair. Celeste looked ready for three hots and a cot the one time I brought up going, so I hadn’t broached the subject again. Although I knew it wasn’t her fault and I didn’t blame her, part of me was bummed not to take Celeste to prom. With my father constantly breathing down my neck and all of the media coverage on my every move the moment I stepped foot in Atlanta, I had a sneaking suspicion that my days in River’s Run were numbered. The likelihood that I would be able to take Celeste to prom next year was dropping by the day.

My mind kept playing games with me, imagining her in a sleek pink dress, her wild hair tamed into long curls that trailed down her back. She would smile coyly at me when I presented her with a boutonniere. I might even consider cutting my long hair for the occasion. Having a polaroid of the two of us in the traditional prom pose would be one of my most treasured possessions.

Suddenly, I had an idea and whipped out my phone to text Phillip. Hopefully, it wouldn’t cost a fortune since it wouldn’t technically be last minute. Even if it was, however, I would take whatever bullshit my father threw my way for it.

On it, Phillip’s text read.

Perfect.

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