Page 84 of Kiss Collector
“Hey, Zae? Do you mind if, um, if Dean drives me home today?”
My heart falls at the fact that she feels nervous even asking me. “Dean can take you home anytime you want, Monica. I’m not upset about him, I promise.” I realize as I say it that I mean every word, and the relief is a balm to my soul.
Monica gives me a hug and jogs away to Dean’s coupe.
Kenzie spots Vincent across the lot, walking to baseball practice with the other guys. “Ooh!” She jumps as high as she can, several times, waving. Vincent lifts a long arm in the air, and she giggles.
Lin’s phone dings. Her face lights up when she reads it. “Parker wants to see me this week! I have a feeling he’s going to ask me to be his girlfriend.”
“Yay!” Kenzie exclaims. “What are you going to say?”
“Yes, of course! The boy has abs and thighs of steel and he can kiss. Good lawd, can he kiss!”
And just like that, all three of my friends are pretty much taken. And though I’m happy for them, I am now an outsider in every way.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
This week I’m pulled out of math class and sent to guidance again. I’m happy to get out of math but nervous about what Mrs. Crowley wants now.
I come to a dead stop in her doorway at the sight of both my parents sitting there, looking up at me with puzzled expressions. What is this?
“Zae!” Mrs. Crowley says. “Here’s a seat for you. Join us.”
I sit, peering around at the three of them in worried confusion.
“I’ve called you all here today because I have good news. I’m sure Zae shared the pamphlet about studying abroad.”
Holy crap! Is she for real? I wince and squirm. “No,” I say. “I told you we couldn’t afford that.”
“Were you supposed to bring something home to me?”Mom asks in her parental voice. Dad leans forward, his eyes searching me for answers.
“No.” I look pointedly at Mrs. Crowley. This is wrong of her, but she looks zero percent regretful. I can’t believe she called both my parents in for this.
She stares right back at me and asks, “Did you speak to them about your hopes and plans for after high school?”
I bite my lip hard as anger sparks and flares.
“I haven’t heard about any change of plans,” Mom says.
“Me either.” Dad folds his hands and all of them watch me, waiting.
What kind of crappy guidance is this? Forcing me into this awkward conversation when I’m not ready? Wasting everyone’s time? I barely open my lips to grumble the words.
“I don’t want to go to college.”
The looks on Mom’s and Dad’s faces crush me, making my heart gallop.
“I don’t think it’s for me,” I say. “I feel like it’d be a waste of money, just to say I did it, for a job I won’t even love.”
Mom looks down at her hands, and Dad’s eyebrows droop.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, silently cursing Mrs. Crowley.
She clears her throat and reaches for another pamphlet, sliding it across, where my parents open it and look together. Guilt surges inside me like a churn of acid.
“This really isn’t necessary,” I say, my voice raised. “I didn’t show them because it’s not possible. This is a waste of time.”
She ignores me and focuses on my parents. “I’m sure you’re aware that plenty of respected people don’t have college degrees. Steve Jobs, Bill Gates, Mark Zuckerberg.” Myparents look unimpressed by this fact, but she soldiers on. “While it’s a necessary option for many, there are wonderful work opportunities out there for young people today. In Zae’s case, I think it’s important that we focus on her prolific language skills and seize this particular prospect. I’ll let you read through it.”
