Page 17 of Forget Me Not

“When exactly were you planning on telling me about this? Huh? When they sent back my tuition check?” his father roars.

“I’ve been trying to tell you for weeks, but you make it impossible to tell you anything. Unless it’s what you want to hear, you never listen!” Reed shouts back.

I reach for the closest napkin and crumple it up, trying to make some sort of noise, anything that will help me not eavesdrop on their conversation, but it’s futile. Nothing on this table is going to make enough ruckus to drown out their yelling.

“So, what? You’re going to blow off getting the best education you can get for some high school crush that won’t survive the summer? You can’t be serious. Grow up, Reed.”

A loud slam, like hands on the desk. Then it’s Reed’s turn.

“That’s exactly what I’m doing, Dad. Growing up. Making decisions formylife on my own. And that includes who I want to spend it with. And the answer to that is Cooper. I don’t care how stupid or immature you think it is. I love her. And that’s not going to change by the end of the summer, I promise you. So, I’m going to do whatever it takes to be with her. Right now, that means staying here where she is.”

Silence. I can’t even begin to contemplate if this is a good sign or a bad one, I’m still reeling from the last bit I heard. When Reed first told me he was switching schools, he had a very different reason for doing so, one which had nothing to do with me.

“Why? What’s here that she can’t leave? We know she has no family. No money. She can’t possibly be headed anywhere more exciting than community college and I’ll be damned if you really think that trumps the sort of education you’re going to get at Yale. I mean it, Reed. I’m not going to stand by and watch you piss your life away over some girl.”

“Then don’t look. Turn your head. Close your eyes, I don’t care what you have to do to get through this, but do it. Because I’m not changing my mind and you can’t make me.”

There’s a shuffle of furniture being moved over carpet. Footsteps toward the door. It opens and Reed is marching straight for me.

“Come on. Let’s get the hell out of here.” His hand lands in mine before I can put up a fight. Not that I was planning to. I’ve wanted to leave ever since the moment Reed’s dad walked in the room.

“Where are we going?” I mumble as he drags me outside and to his car.

“The hell out of here,” he answers without turning back. Ever the gentleman, even in his current state of rage he still chooses to get the passenger side door for me.

Within minutes, we’re out of the driveway and heading down the street toward the highway. As far as I know, we’re still drifting aimlessly, but given the speed we’re doing it at, I have a feeling Reed is busy formulating some sort of plan I’m just not privy to yet.

“You told me you were switching to UCF because it was a better place to play football,” I say, breaking the ever-growing silence between us. I knew it sounded like a weird reason at the time, but I know squat about sports so I had no real reason to question it. Nor did I want to. But I should have.

“It is a better place for football if I want my friends and family to be able to come to games and watch me play,” he grunts, keeping his eyes locked on the road ahead.

“Oh, my God,” I moan, pain churning the pit of my stomach like a knife doing zig zags through it, “you did switch schools for me!”

“Fine. Yes. I switched because of you,” he admits. “But not just because I want to be with you, but because I want to be who I amwhen I’m with you. Before you came into my life, I didn’t question the path I was on, didn’t for a second think there was any other option for me. You changed that. You helped me see that life can be unpredictable and that making the most of opportunities as they come along can be even more amazing than following some laid out trail meant to lead you to your perfectly planned out future. If I go to Yale, if I continue doing everything my father wants, I’ll wind up with his life. It’s a good life, but it’s not what I want for myself. Hell, I don’t even know what I want yet, but I know with you around, I can figure that out.”

I shake my head. His thoughts are lovely, but they’re all wrong. “You think it’s an easy way of living, never knowing from one day to the next where you’ll be or what you’ll be doing? Taking advantage of opportunities as they come along is great, but scraping by in a desperate search for any opportunity at all that could help you get through another day, is not.”

His hand moves over the center console until it reaches my knee and squeezes. “I’m never going to let that happen to you again, Coop. You’re never going to wonder about tomorrow as long as you’re with me, I promise. I’m not giving up college, or asking you to run away with me. I’m switching schools. I’m rethinking career options. I can still study law, I can still be a lawyer. But maybe I don’t want to defend guilty people with big bank accounts. Maybe I’d rather do something good with my opportunity. Like helping kids that are growing up like you did. Looking out for their rights. I don’t know, I haven’t gotten into the details yet. But, I finally see that I don’t have to have it all figured out. Doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about it, not making conscious decisions about my future.”

“Oh yeah? What conscious decision is prompting this race down ninety-five today?” I’m mocking him, trying to prove my point, though I know I’ve already lost. I’m just scared. Scared of what it might feel like to believe him. To trust that he’ll be there with me, tomorrow and every day after. That life could really come with a normal future. A normal...anything. He’s always talking about forever, but forever feels abstract and distant. Tomorrow. Tomorrow I can always see. And I’m usually worried about it. Less now, but still. The uncertainty is hard to shake.

“We’re racing down ninety-five because my father will get wind of a marriage license if we apply in this county,” he says, a sly grin sweeping over his lips and a spark gleaming in his eyes.

“What?” I heard wrong. I must have heard wrong.

“We’re getting a marriage license. You and me. We’re doing this. Making it official and to hell with what everyone else says after that.”

I still can’t fully comprehend what he’s saying. “You want to get married? Now?”

“Yesterday. The day before. A month ago. I’ve pretty much wanted to marry you from the moment I saw you.”

I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so excited about anything. Me. I’m making him this happy.

“You’re crazy.”

“All thanks to you.” He winks, and it all sinks in. I’m getting married.

CHAPTER TWELVE

---