Whatever. I roll my eyes and Jax plants a hand on my arm. “Come on, Hays—give me this. I don’t apologize to just anyone.”
And I’d really prefer the avoidance route. “I’m late and need to change.”
Jax tilts his head and sort of grins. “Are you gonna make me do this?”
“I’m not making you do anything.”
I attempt to step past him and Jax falls to his knees. He stretches out his arms to create his massive wingspan. The pounding on the bags stop and guys yell and taunt Jax from around the gym. My eyes widen. He’s humiliating himself for me.
“Hear me out,” he says. “Otherwise, I’ll be following you around like this for the rest of the day.”
A few guys slip out of the locker room and I slide to the side to let them pass and motion with my chin for Jax to join me. He stands and the gym returns to routine.
“Of all the stories you could share with your dad, why share that?” I whisper.
His eyes narrow at the mention of his father. “I wasn’t sharing with him. I was outside, talking to Kaden, and I didn’t know he was around to hear.”
“You regularly bring up I’m a slut?”
“You’re not a slut. Look, you’re dating West and it’s bringing back bad memories. Kaden and I were talking because we’re both worried. You blocked us out when you dated Matt and you’re blocking us out again. Matt hurt you, Hays, and we don’t want to see you hurt again.”
I search his eyes, wishing I could ask what he knows. “Matt didn’t hurt me.”
“Every time you walk into this gym you go ghost white. That never happened before Matt. I don’t know what he did to you, but he did something. He killed a part of who you were and Kaden and I will be damned if West finishes you off.”
“West isn’t Matt.” He’s not. A shimmer of panic weaves through me. What if I’m making the same mistake twice?
The metal cage vibrates when Kaden beats his hand against it. “Let’s go, Jax.”
Jax shoves his headgear back on. “Just saying that history seems to be repeating itself. Think about it.”
Just crap.
The door to my grandfather’s office opens and out steps my father. Pure, utter joy skips into my bloodstream and my face aches with the smile. My dad came. This means he’s back and he’ll be okay and he’ll sleep again and he’ll smile again and he’ll be my dad. I don’t care about the job. I don’t care about the money. I care about my dad.
Dad gestures for me to join him and I’m hesitant as I head over. Any time with my father is like Christmas morning, but a vibration of nerves strings me out like a drug.
John offers a halfhearted smile and any type of smile from him scares the pee out of me. “Shut the door behind you.”
I do and sink into the chair across from John. Dad leans against the filing cabinet and stares at a large envelope on John’s desk. John picks it up, opens his mouth to say something, then shuts it while handing the envelope to me.
Nausea kicks in as I think of the million horrible things it could be, but none of them make sense until I see the return address: the University of Kentucky.
My hands shake and I inhale deeply. Large envelope. I got in. I was accepted.
“Congratulations.” There’s a heaviness in my Dad’s voice that catches my attention. The smile I hadn’t even known formed on my face fades.
“I picked up the mail today,” he continues. “I hope you don’t mind, I already opened it.”
I flip it over and slide my hand along the already unsealed flap. Mind? Yeah, I do, but I could never say anything to upset my father, so instead I empty out the contents.
While my father and John scrutinize my every movement, I scan through the mountains of papers and brochures, finding everything but one crucial item. “The financial aid?”
John fingers a paper on his desk. “Some grants, a small student loan, work-study, but no scholarship. I’m sorry.”
My ACT scores weren’t high enough. I suck at tests but rock it out in class. While my brain knew this would be the outcome, my heart didn’t. I nod and bite the inside of my mouth.
“I was accepted.” I try to lift my lips, but they tremble. Dammit, this should be a good moment.
“Haley,” starts John. “Your dad and I talked and I’m going to try to take out a loan—”
“You can’t,” I cut in. “You put everything into this gym and the heater just died.”
I’m not stupid. John doesn’t live in a camper because he thinks it’s cool. He, like everyone else, has made hard decisions to stay afloat. There’s no way he can handle more bills.
“It’s the only option,” says my dad.
“I’ll work two jobs or I’ll go to community college.” Though that also costs money I don’t possess. “I’ll find a way to save money, work for a year—”
“No!” Dad bangs his hand against the cabinet and I jump. My father has never been one to lose his patience, to lose his calm. “Not acceptable. You’ll take what we give you.”
“Dad—” I argue.
“I said no!” he shouts, then tears out of the office. The blinds on the window of the door sway when the door slams shut.
I look at John and my mouth grows slack. “What did I do?”
“It’s a hard position for a man to be in when he can’t care for his family, especially his daughter.”