Page 54 of Every Thought Taken

“Yes, sir.”

His bold stare slams into my eyes. “Boy, I’ve known you almost your entire life. Still doesn’t mean I’m okay with you spending a romantic weekend away with my seventeen-year-old daughter. Hell, you’re only fourteen. What do your parents have to say about the idea?”

This is where I gauge exactly how much to say, how much to divulge. It isn’t common practice for people to share the worst parts of themselves. And like most people, I doubt my mother is forthright about how she talks down to her son. Dad isn’t as bad as Mom, but he sure as hell doesn’t stand up and tell her to stop.

“Sir, I wish my parents cared about what I did as much as you and Mrs. Williams care about Helena.”

At this, his eyes soften. Not in pity, but the type of sadness any parent should feel if a child is treated unfairly or poorly. And the longer we sit in silence, the more he digests my words, the more he sees a different side of the boy he thought he knew.

He works his jaw back and forth as he mulls over his indecision. It’d be easy to open my mouth and prattle off all the ways I will keep Helena, his only daughter, safe. Pocket knives and bear spray. My knowledge of the outdoors might have impressed him if he knew nothing about me, but a lot of what I learned over the years was from him. As the only boy during our annual camping trips, all the dads circled around me with outdoor survival skills. Some I retained, most of them from Mr. Williams.

“I still don’t like the idea,” he mutters under his breath.

Across the table, the corners of Helena’s mouth curve up the slightest bit. She knows he will say yes.

“Anderson, dear?”

My attention shifts to the opposite end of the dinner table, where Mrs. Williams studies her daughter. “Yes, ma’am?”

Green eyes so similar to Helena’s meet mine. “How long?”

My brows bunch in confusion. “Only a couple days. Promise we’ll be back Sunday afternoon.”

“No.” She gives a subtle shake of her head before setting her fork down. “How long have you and Helena been dating?”

“Mom…”

Why didn’t I expect this question? I should have known one of her parents would ask. But the idea of finally having time, real time, with Helena again clouded my normal thought processes.

My attention drifts to Helena for a beat, a soft smile on my lips, before I sit taller in my seat and return my gaze to Mrs. Williams. “Officially, it’s been almost a year—minus the past few months. But we’ve been close for years.” I swallow to quell the nervousness building beneath my diaphragm. I hold her gentle stare as I say the next words. “She’s my best friend.”

A strange silence surrounds us as no one responds. And it’s odd, the comfort I feel sitting at this table. Telling Helena’s parents I am more than her best friend’s little brother or just a friend wasn’t on the slate when I walked through the front door. But now that the confession is out, now that our relationship is a little less secretive, all I feel is relief.

“We love you, Anderson,” Mrs. Williams says, and my body sighs at the simple but powerful sentiment. Warmth blooms in my chest. “But we can’t allow what happened this past school year to happen again.” Though her voice holds no malice, all the warmth from seconds ago bleeds away. “If Reg is okay with this weekend, then you have my blessing.” She picks up her wineglass and takes a small sip. “But things will be different the rest of the summer and next school year. I hope you understand.”

Beneath the table, I curl my fingers into fists. Dig my nails into my palms as I take slow, deep breaths. Tell myself it isn’t something I specifically did. She doesn’t disapprove ofmeor my relationship with Helena. She is simply concerned for her daughter. Wants her to succeed. Wants the best for her, just as I do.

Whether or not that includes me remains to be seen.

“Yes, ma’am,” I say, relaxing my fingers in my lap. “Next year will bring big changes for us all.” I look to Helena. “Senior year for Helena, Ales, and Mags. Freshman year for me.” I pick at my thumb cuticle a second before clamping down on the digit with my other fingers. “I hope we can all help each other.”

Those last words are a subliminal plea, a desperate petition for her or Mr. Williams to not rob me of time with Helena. Not like before.

A soft smile plumps her cheeks, but it doesn’t touch her eyes. “We’ll see.”

With those two words, a touch of the darkness slips back in. A niggling of doubt eats away at the happiness I regained. And I hate how easily it settles in my bones and chills my core. A chill that never lets go.

CHAPTER31

HELENA

It’s a true miracle we convinced my parents to be okay with this trip. I thought Dad would put his foot down, a throatynoon his lips. But it was Mom’s opinion that held more weight. Embarrassing as it was to sit there and listen to her and Dad ask Anderson question after question, relief washed over me that it all happened in one shot.

After serious deliberation, they conceded… with stipulations, of course.

When this weekend trip ended, I had to spend more nonworking hours studying. As the end of the school year approached, all juniors were handed a list of books to read over the summer as well as topics to research. Mom and Dad took it a step further and requested summer assignments to keep my mind fresh and in study mode.

Thankful as I am that they love me and want nothing but my success, I despise what they have stolen from me by piling constant work on my shoulders.

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