Page 26 of Seeds of Love
“I don’t need rose petals and candlelight,” she continues, playing with that damn pen. “I just want it to mean something, you know? I want to actually care about the person. Trust them.” She looks up at me through her lashes. “Eric seems clean and kind and... suitable.”
Suitable. Only Alex would treat losing her virginity like a job interview.
I think about my first time—fourteen, behind a log with Rachel Benson, awkward and rushed and far from romantic. Alex deserves better than that.
“Look,” I say carefully. “Your first time should be with someone you trust. And if that’s...” I swallow hard, “...Eric, then great.”
Her smile is small but genuine. “Thanks, Freddie.”
“For what?”
“For not making fun of me.”
“Hey, I save my dickishness for important things, Lex. Like being a giant nerd and making pre-lecture notes,” I tease, pointing at her binder.
I collapse onto my bed,feeling like I’ve been hit by a fucking train. Between classes, study sessions with Alex, and trying to keep up with Troy’s insane workout routine, I’m wiped. Not to mention my part-time job at the gym, where they’re giving me jack shit for hours lately. Clients have dried up, and I’m not getting many hours on reception.
I don’t even have the energy to respond to Brianna’s last text. She even promised to do that thing I love. Yeah. Something’s seriously off if I’m not biting on that one.
My phone buzzes, and I groan, bracing myself for Ethan with another “emergency” that’s just him fretting over which shirt shows off his abs more. But when I glance at the screen, it’s not Ethan—it’s a reminder to call home. Damn. Has it really been a week already?
I hit FaceTime before I can overthink it, pasting on my best “golden boy” smile. Mom’s face fills the screen, and I feel a pang in my chest seeing her. Even through the grainy quality, the exhaustion etched into her features is obvious. Her smile beams at me, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Freddie! What a lovely surprise.” Her voice is warm, as if she can pretend everything’s fine for a few minutes.
“Hey, Mom. Just checking in. How’s life in the thrilling metropolis of Goldsbend?” I lean back, half-listening as she launches into a rundown of Mrs. Henderson’s latest feud with the homeowners’ association. My eyes keep drifting back to the new lines around her eyes and the tension pulling at her mouth.
“Mom,” I interrupt, probably too sharply. “Are you okay? You look... tired.”
For a split second, the cheerful facade drops, revealing a glimpse of worry that made my stomach twist into knots. But she brushes it away with practiced ease.
“Oh, I’m fine, honey. Just busy with work and your father. You know how it is.” She gives me a small, tight smile.
I swallow against the tightness creeping up my throat. “How’s Dad? Any... any better?”
“He’s... managing,” she replies, the words slow and carefully chosen. “The new medication seems to be helping, a little.”
“Can I talk to him?” I ask, holding onto the hope that I might hear his voice for a minute, just long enough to convince myself he’s still there.
She hesitates. “He’s resting now,” she says, the words rushed like she’s afraid to say more. “You know how he gets in the evenings. But I’ll tell him you called.”
I nod, feeling the familiar heaviness settle in. We talk a little longer—small talk, mostly. She tells me about the weather, asks about my classes, and mentions cousin Sarah’s new disaster of a boyfriend. It’s all surface-level, but underneath it, I can feel her worry like static between us.
As we’re about to end the call, Mom pauses. “Freddie, honey... you’re doing well in school, right? You’re keeping your grades up?”
The tension in her voice is almost palpable, and I know it’s more than just grades she’s worried about. “Yeah, Mom. I’m doing fine.” More than fine, thanks to Lexie, but I don’t want to sound cocky. Not now.
She visibly relaxes, her shoulders dropping as she lets out a breath. “Good. That’s good. We’re so proud of you, you know. You’re going to do great things.”
I give her one last smile, as genuine as I can manage, and we say our goodbyes. But after the screen goes dark, I’m left staring at the ceiling, feeling like the biggest piece of crap. Here I am, living it up at college while she’s running herself into the ground taking care of Dad and probably losing sleep over how they’re going to afford his meds. Megan’s practically killing herself to get a soccer scholarship, and if she doesn’t land it, she’s talking about deferring a year to stay in Goldsbend. And I know she’d do it. She hates it there, but she’d stay if it meant helping out.
Mom’s tired eyes, Dad’s mounting medical bills, Meg’s college dreams—it all comes down to me. I have to make this work. Have to get a good job, be the son they need me to be.
With a groan, I haul myself up and grab my textbook. No more distractions. No more daydreaming or doing anything else that isn’t directly related to securing a kick-ass job after graduation and looking after my family. Time to man the fuck up.
ALEX
THEN – FRESHMAN YEAR – JANUARY
