Page 78 of Past the Broken Bridges

“I left them inside to get some fresh air. Are we done with the third degree, or can I go now,Mom?”

Christ.I know it’s not smart to let him go, but how much trouble can you get into at the library? If I didn’t have a test today, I’d probably join him and get some work of my own done.

“If you change your mind about wanting to go to a meeting, you know where to find me,” I say, relenting that he’s never going to accept help from me when he’s like this—pent-up and exhausted from however much sleep he’s not getting.

He murmurs, “I won’t.”

Clicking my tongue, I rub the back of my neck and check my watch. I need to get going, but I’m still reluctant to leave him. “Dixie mentioned something about a list that Sawyer has, and going to a Mardi Gras parade is on it. I was thinking about taking them if you want to tag along.”

After checking in on Sawyer last night with a package of Pop-Tarts in hand, I figured she’d be good enough to go out this weekend. I’d like to thank my chicken noodle soup for doing the trick. Or maybe it was all the cold medication that I constantly force-fed her along with the water I fetched nearly every two hours while I worked on homework in her living room and watched her sleep.

She told me I should have gone to medical school. Dad would have probably laughed at that.

“You in?” I ask, hoping he’ll say yes. In hindsight, the last place he should be is near Bourbon Street where all the bars are. But at least I can keep an eye on him if he’s with us. “We said we’d do more things this semester since we’realmost done with school. Who knows what comes next for us. We should enjoy the time here while it lasts.”

Dawson rubs his lips together, eyes wandering to the library as if he’s afraid somebody is watching. “First Sawyer and now Dixie?” he grumbles like a question.

“Don’t start.”

His mouth twists into a scowl. “You’re the one always around the girls I like.”

I’m not doing this again. “Do you ever think maybe we just both enjoy being around good people? It doesn’t have to be more than that.”

He finally meets my eyes, a distance in his that breaks way to reluctance. “I…” Pressing his lips together again, his focus goes back to the library.

Who is waiting for him in there?

“Sawyer said Dixie is good for me.”

It isn’t what I expect him to say, and I don’t agree or disagree. It’s not my place to.

Dawson’s weight shifts from one foot to another. “I’ll think about the parade. And…” His eyebrow twitches as he scrubs at his nose. “The other thing.”

The other thing.The meeting.

It’s as good as I’m going to get.

Once again, his eyes move from me to the building next to us.

“Are you sure you’re good?” I ask one last time, knowing it’s for nothing. “I’ve got a test in ten minutes, but I can skip and tell the prof—”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” he snaps, walking away from me.

I can’t help but watch him disappear into the building. My gut is silently urging me to follow, but I go against it.

But he’s in the back of my mind the entire test, an antsy feeling making it hard to sit still as I’m filling out multiple-choice questions.

By the time I rush through the test and make my way back to the library forty minutes later, there’s no sign of Dawson anywhere. I recognize a few of his teammates sitting off to the side.

“You seen Dawson?” I ask the center for the team.

The guys all share a look before one of the point guards turns to me and says, “No, but if you see him, tell him to come to practice. Coach is pissed that he’s been skipping for the past two weeks.”

A few of them nod, making my eye twitch.

I know the rules just as well as Dawson does. If he misses more than three practices, he’s out.

He used to love the game, even when he didn’t see a lot of play time.

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