Page 15 of Heart of Gold
He shrugs, “Yeah, that was part of it. Once he couldn’t play anymore, my dad transferred his constant coaching onto me, but I didn’t do it for them.”
“For Levi?” I ask.
“For myself,” Gavin lets out a breath. “I knew that with all of Levi’s medical bills, if I couldn’t get a scholarship, there was no way my parents were going to be able to afford college for both of us.”
I try to keep the tears from pooling in my eyes, and I absolutely hate the thickness that is in my throat. I want to hug him, but I barely know him.
“That’s enough about me,” He quickly changes the subject. “I need to know more about you.”
I stare at him, thinking about what I could possibly tell this stranger. Everything? Nothing? I remain silent, and his phone pings from the top of the dresser.
Talk about being saved by the bell.
He breaks eye contact with me for a second while he goes to grab his phone.
“It’s Levi.”
I feel relieved, “You can go if you need to.”
He shakes his head, “Nah. He’s just wondering where I am. Mom’s probably freaking out thinking I went overboard or something.”
“Does your mom worry like that all the time?” I ask. Wondering what it would be like to have actual parents. I can’teven remember what that feels like. Liv and Jake have looked out for me, but believe me when I say it’s not the same. Liv hovers over me like she’s waiting for me to self-destruct. It’s not as motherly as it is dutiful. I’ve always felt like a job of hers, even when I know that isn’t her intention.
“It’s been worse since Levi got sick. I understand it though. I worry about him a lot. He pushes everything to the limit. Drives me crazy.”
“What’s she like?” I ask. “Your mom?”
“She’s quiet,” Gavin smiles. “She wears a lot of denim and believes tie dye is making a comeback.”
I can’t help but smile, “Your mom is a hippie?”
He shakes his head and smirks, “She wears crocs and goes to Bonnaroo.”
“And your dad?” I ask.
His face instantly falls, “He’s different.”
I want to know more, but I also don’t want to push.
“What about your parents?” he asks. The question makes my ears pound. I’ve never dated anyone since Grayson. I’ve never had to answer this question.
My silence pulls more words from him, “Daisy?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m sorry, I just spaced out for a second. Um. My dad split, when I was little, I barely remember him.”
“And your mom?”
I feel the tears stinging my eyes and mucus thickening in the back of my throat. I just have to say it out loud, once. I can do that, right? I’m never going to see him after this trip. Just say it, Quinn.
I swallow, forcing the words out, “She died. Two years ago.”
“Shit,” he whispers. “I’m sorry.”
I stare at him, allowing my mind to go back to that place that I’ve worked so hard to forget about. Suddenly, I can feel my throat burning from the vomit threatening to come up.
Two seconds later, my stomach is empty of the vodka cranberries from last night and my hair is held back by Phoenix's hands. Embarrassed, I quickly grab a towel from the sink, getting far enough away from him that my hair falls from his palms and swings back down around my shoulders.
I run some water over the terry fabric and blot the back of my neck before plopping down on the toilet lid. I try my best to remember what my therapist said about breathing.
