Page 9 of Forging Legacy

I frown at her. “He’s going pro?”

Thora rolls her eyes at me. “Are you telling me you didn’t even look him up online after he was inside your body? Hell, I looked him up the minute things calmed down at the bar. Oh! I have your tips.” Thora reaches into her cavernous bag, rummaging around until she pulls out a bright pink envelope stuffed to the ripping point. “It’s mostly ones, I think. Mine was.”

I slide the money into a zippered pocket of my bag, pinching it between my thighs in case someone wandering past gets any ideas. Not that I really believe everyone is out to rob me. I just really need that money to end up in my savings account ASAP.

Thora runs her fingers through her hair and looks at me. “Fern, I get it. You know I get it. And honestly, you’re both seniors. You’re both clearly dedicated to your own thing. I think you’re mature enough to ignore him for an hour a week while you plan your climb up the academic ladder.”

I nod. She’s probably right. The shock of seeing him today will wear off.

We try to get things done for a bit before I give up, too distracted by Wyatt and what could happen now that he’s my student. “I need to go deposit those tips.” I sigh. “And my mom will probably want to touch base about teaching anyway.”

“You gonna tell her about Wyatt?”

I squint, considering. “It’s not like I pour out my soul about guys and stuff like that … how would I even bring it up?”

Thora shrugs. “Mama Montgomery is very reasonable. And she’ll sniff you out in a heartbeat if you don’t tell her something. Why not just say one of your students is a guy you were interested in last semester.”

I nod, tapping my fingers on my bag full of precious, dangerous cargo. “It’s not technically a lie…”

I stand up, checking the time on my phone. “All right. I’ll talk to you later. You working this weekend?”

Thora nods. I wave to her and run outside in time to catch the bus downtown.

I have an entire hour on public transit to figure out what to tell my mom, so by the time I get to the bank where she works, I’m feeling much calmer about the whole situation.

Mom looks up from her teller window , smiling when she sees me. I slide the pink envelope across the counter. “I’d like to make a deposit, please!”

She glances at the envelope, still taped shut. “You didn’t even use any of it to buy yourself something nice?”

I make a face. “Mom. What am I gonna get that’s nice?”

She sighs. “We can do a treat every now and then, Fern Montgomery. It isn’t sustainable to keep living like monks while you save and save for the next thing.”

I grab a deposit slip and start filling it out. “I know, Mom. And I am easing up a little. I told you I went out with friends on New Year’s Eve after my shift. And I’m not even working this weekend.” I don’t add that my only friendisworking, so I’m still not doing anything social. “We should have a movie marathon.”

Mom’s face brightens. “We can get takeout. You can tell me all the latest news about your fellowship.”

I slide her the completed deposit slip. Mom doesn’t ask for my ID, but I show it to her anyway. I don’t want anyone to be checking a video or something and get her in trouble. “There’s nothing to tell right now until they make their decisions. You know that, Mom.”

And she does know it. She was once a bright student like me, applying for scholarships and looking at colleges. She got pregnant with me and moved in with my dad, and they both made a real go at juggling school and parenthood … until it got really hard, and Dad took off. He didn’t go far physically, but he also never really seemed to mature much, and he’s certainly never offered either of us any support, financially or emotionally.

Mom hands me a receipt for my deposit, and we both smile a bit at the balance number on my account. Slowly and steadily, I’m getting closer to my benchmarks. Assuming I get accepted into one of the programs … I can’t let myself worry about what might happen if I don’t. I say, “I’ll make dinner tonight and queue up that new Reese Witherspoon movie for when you get home.” I grin and squeeze Mom’s hand. She squeezes back and waves me off.

Chapter9

Wyatt

“You’re Wyatt Moyer,right? From the soccer team?” A woman with bleached blond hair sits in the seat next to mine as I try to slip into the back of the recitation section the next week. I glance over at her. Any other year, I’d be into her glossy pink lips and the view of her lacy bra from the cut-off collar of the baggy sweatshirt she wears. Today, I just want to get through class without angering Fern.

I’m not in the best mood for superfans. My legs are aching from lifting weights with the team this morning. My fingers are cramped from texting my parents repeatedly that I haven’t signed any contracts yet.

“Yeah,” I grunt, keeping my eyes on my notebook and hoping my body language communicates that this isn’t going to be a lead-up to a hookup.

She slides her chair closer to mine. “My roommates and Ilovesoccer. We were there for your hat trick this fall. Against Maryland?”

I nod. “Yeah. Thanks for coming out.” I hate this. If I’m going to play pro, I know I need to at least be nice to fans. But honestly, it’s all I can manage right now trying to figure out my professional life, stay in shape, and not pop a boner over the TA for this math recitation.

As I draw nonsense notes in my notebook, I see a hand with manicured nails slide a piece of paper onto my desk. I look up again and my fan is smiling at me. “That’s my number. If you ever need to catch up on notes or whatever.” She lifts her brows at me seductively. My mind reels, trying to figure out what I can say to politely let her know I won’t be reaching out to her for homework help or anything else.

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