Betwixt, Before, Beyond (26 page)

Chapter Two

The college replies start coming in way sooner than I think they will. I was expecting a few months, but no, no...here we are only 5 weeks down the track, and I can see it. A stark, white envelope is sitting on Dale's kitchen counter flipping me off. I want to snarl at it, but instead press my lips together and try to pretend I haven't seen it.

Dale's mom, Mary, is twittering around the kitchen, eyeing it with a secret smile. My heart sinks to the bottom of my skinny jeans. I swear it squeezes out past my shoes. I can see it on the floor, gasping for air as Dale spots his mother's gaze and his eyes round with nervous pleasure.

I notice the emblem on the top left corner of the envelope before he flips it over and rips into it. Columbia? Freaking Columbia University? That's in New York. That's like the other side of the world! He never told me he was applying there!

He never told
me, because every time he tries to raise the subject of college, I cut him off and start harping on about something else. I'm such an idiot!

Columbia.

I can't breathe.

I hate you Columbia University!

Please don't get it in. Please. Please! I look away from his trembling hands as he reads the letter. I feel sick and breathe in sharply to ward off the dizzy spell.

"Did you get in?" his mother asks.

Dale's face is pale and tight. My brows bunch together as I watch him. His head shake is minuscule, but sounds so loud in the quiet room.

Woohoo!!

I mean...

Dale tosses the letter out of his hand. Mary and I watch it flutter to the floor as Dale slumps into a kitchen chair.

Dude. He's gutted. I mean seriously gutted.

That stings. Does he really want to get away from me that badly?

I cross my arms as Mary scoops up the letter and quickly scans it. Her face morphs with empathy.

"Dale, honey, I'm so sorry."

He flicks his hand, trying to look all nonchalant. My elation at his rejection from the east coast school is fully stunted by the sadness cresting over his features. As much as his sadness hurts me, I creep towards him and pull out the chair nearby, reaching down for his hand. I squeeze his fingers. With a forced smile, he squeezes back, once again putting my needs before his. He doesn’t want to smile right now, he probably wants to go up to his room and shut out the world for the rest of the day, but instead he's squeezing my hand, knowing I'll feel rejected if he doesn't do it.

I hate myself sometimes.

I pull my hand free and rub his thigh. "Did they give you any reason?"

He shakes his head before snatching back the letter and re-reading it. "It'll be my police record. I guarantee it."

"Honey, you don't know that." Mary places her hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah, I do, Mom." He looks up at her. I can't see his expression, but the pain cresting over Mary's face gives me a good enough idea. "That damn thing is going to haunt me forever." He thumps the table. "I want to turn back time
!"

"You know you can't." Mary's calm voice tells me they've had this conversation many times before.

"I hate it," he mumbles darkly, but then his voice goes all quiet and wobbly. "Just, can we not...please don't tell Dad."

Mary's pained expression mirrors mine. "Honey, you know we have to."

"Yeah, but not today," he chokes out the words. "Promise me you won't say anything until I'm ready."

His mom looks all worried as she gazes at him.

"Promise me, Mom!"

"Okay, okay." She raises her hands like two white flags. "I won't say a word."

With that, Dale pushes up from the table and stalks out of the room.

Should I follow him?

I look to Mrs. Finnigan.

"Just give him a few minutes." She smiles sweetly. Her lips are tight, her eyes only just glowing with warmth. I still can't figure out if she likes me or not. It took her a while to meet the girl Dale was dating. I was hardly up for social calls when we first got together. I think Mary was really concerned when she heard it was
me. My prior reputation does proceed me, I suppose. I've changed a lot since the accident though, and she seems to understand this, but she's still wary of me.

I guess I get it. From what Dale
has told me, he was a bad boy a couple of years back. Maybe his parents think I'll pull him down that path again. I don't really care about proving myself to them. Sucking up is really not my style. However, I really want an answer to the question burning a hole through my brain, so I put on the sweetest demeanor I can muster.

"So, um." I tuck my hair behind my ear. "Why doesn't Dale want to tell Mr. Finnigan?"

"Oh." Mary sighs, folding the dish towel in her hand and hanging it neatly. "Well, Dale's father always wanted to go to Columbia. His father wouldn't allow him to...he insisted that he go to seminary instead."

I don't miss the slightly bitter edge to her words. Her smile is glum as she gazes at her kitchen counter.

"As a way to motivate Dale after his accident, Charles talked a lot about Dale's dreams and what he wanted to do with his life. They sort of decided on Columbia together, and it was a big part of helping Dale recover. They researched the college, spent hours picking out the perfect classes. For Dale, setting his eyes on something positive really motivated him. I think maybe he feels as though he's let his father down somehow."

"But he hasn't." I almost sound desperate. "It wasn't his fault he was rejected."

"I know," Mary says quietly. "But in his mind, it is. He's been working overtime trying to prove himself to us, not that he needs to. But we just can't seem to convince him otherwise. I don't think he'll ever truly get over what he went through when he was fifteen. A part of it will always stay with him."

I already figured that. I knew what it was like to live with mistakes. We've both had to learn to deal with the fact
that we can't change the past, but Dale seems driven by this power to prove that his life was worth saving. It influences most of his decisions. He never wants to be his old self again…ever.

"I guess Columbia was another step towards redeeming himself...to mak
ing his father proud." My heart is cracking as I say the words.

Mary nods, tears forming on her bottom lashes. "Dale never whispered a word to any of his friends about this. It was like their little father-son secret. They really had their hearts set on Columbia, you know." Blinking rapidly, Mary sniffs and shakes her head. "Charles will be so disappointed."

I don't know how to respond to this. All I know is that I really want to see Dale, like now.

Armed with my
new-found knowledge, I ease out of the chair, giving Mary an awkward squeeze on her arm as I make my way to the stairs.

"Make sure you leave the door open." In spite of her sniffles, Mary still manages to give her standard reminder. I roll my eyes before turning to face her.

"Yes, ma'am." I nod and paste on a smile before racing up to Dale's room.

Leave the door open. Seriously? This isn't the 1950s! And besides, when did that ever stops kids from getting it on
? If we didn't do it here then we'd just find someplace else! Thankfully, my parents didn't have this open-door policy. They probably should have, but I don't think it even occurred to them, even after they found out what I got up to before I was hit by a car and left for dead. The four longest days of my life. My parents found out so much during that time, all my secrets were laid bare. We've been slowly working our way through them, building up trust, learning to communicate with each other.

They trust Dale though. That's no secret. They think the sun flippin' shines out his butt. I think they love him more than they love me sometimes.

This twitches my insides just a touch, but I'm okay with it. I love that they love my boyfriend. It gives us so much freedom at my place. Most of our heavy make out sessions and in-depth talks happen in my room, so I'm really not complaining.

I tap on Dale's door. The immediate response is Jester's bark. I brace myself for his voracious greeting, doing my best to stay calm as
the black labrador bounds towards me.

"Jess
…" Dale's voice is low and filled with warning.

Jester manages to control his urge to jump on me, but doesn't have any qualms about burying his nose in my crotch. "What is it with this dog?" I nudge him off me.

"He knows a good thing when he sees it." Dale grins at his cute line, but the joy quickly fades from his expression.

I finally get past Jester, but not before giving him a proper greeting. I rub his ears and pat his head before he relents and follows me to the bed. I carefully climb up next to Dale while Jester nestles at our feet. Dale's arm automatically comes around my back and pulls me close as I rest my head on his shoulder. I love that.

I trace my finger over the design on his T-shirt, not sure what I should say.

"I'm sorry," I finally mutter. Not really, but he needs to hear that right now.

After a long sigh, he kisses my forehead. "I know there are other colleges, but Columbia was my first choice, you know? After my car accident, it was one of the first things to motivate me. I made an effort to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. I found my passion for writing. I made all these plans."

"Wrote your bucket list, huh?"

"Well, yeah. I guess. Not on paper or anything, but it's been swimming through my head for a couple of years now. I've always wanted to see New York and Columbia's a great school."

He hasn't mentioned his dad once. Part of me wants to call him on it, but one look at his vulnerable expression
, and I just can't do it. Maybe it's better that he doesn't know what his mom told me.

I clear my throat. "There are other schools." My encouragement sounds so completely lame right now.

"Yeah." He squeezes my shoulder. "But what's the bet they won't have me either?"

"Dale," I chide, "you'll get in somewhere."

"Will I though?"

"Yes
!" I slap his chest and prop myself up so I can look into his eyes. "You are a catch, Dale Finnigan. Any university will be lucky to have you."

He sighs, but gives me a smile. Another forced one that's totally for my benefit, not his. "I guess I just wanted Columbia."

Pulling me down, he rests his cheek against the top of my head and lets out another sigh. All I can do is hold him.

Chapter
Three

Okay, so Mr. Morose is still walking the halls of Big Bear High. I haven't managed to get a smile from Dale in four days. The weekend sucked. Like yeah, officially! In the end, I got so sick of his somber silence that I got pissy with him and left. He didn't come around to win me over like he usually does.

No make
-out session.

Nothing.

I was pretty livid when I spotted him this morning, but one glimpse of his troubled face, and I couldn't stay mad. What was wrong with me? I was the "hold a grudge" queen!

I spent the rest of the day playing nice. We sat with his youth group friends at lunchtime. Sophie said all the right things of course, even soliciting a genuine smile out of Dale. My insides were spitting with toxic envy by the end of lunch
, and I told Dale I was busy after school. It was a lie. We both knew it, but I said it sweetly, and I think he was grateful.

I slam the door shut behind me and stomp into the kitchen, throwing my ba
g onto the counter with a little scream.

"Whoa, someone's having a bad day."

Turning with a gasp, I spot my mother, her eyes dancing with a mixture of curiosity and amusement as she glides into the room with an empty mug in her hand.

"I thought you were showing a house this afternoon."

My mother, real estate extraordinaire used to sell more houses than anyone in the San Bernadino area. This all changed after my accident. She dropped everything to help me recover, but once I got back to school she slowly started into work again. I sometimes wonder if she'll become a workaholic like before, but…

"They canceled, so I decided to come home early." She tips the dregs of her coffee into the sink and rinses out the mug. Closing the dish drawer, she turns to assess me.

Her arms fold slowly over her chest and her head tips to the side. I roll my eyes and groan, which just makes her giggle.

"Want to talk about it?"

"No!" I pull out a bar stool and prop myself on it, resting my elbows on the kitchen counter.

"Dale still in a bad mood, huh?"

"I don't get it! It's like one school! I mean, yeah I get the whole father-son, don't want to disappoint Daddy thing, but there are other schools." I pick at my sky blue nail polish and mumble, "Closer schools."

Mom reaches for my hands, no doubt an attempt to stop me littering her pristine counter with nail polish chips. "Babe, why don't you just tell him how you feel?"

"What do you mean?" I jerk away from her.

"Tell
Dale you love him. Maybe he needs to hear that right now."

"I can't do that!"

"Why not?"

"Because I don't
—I mean I do. But that's—I can't say that to him."

"Why?"

"Because, he...he might not say it back." My voice is tiny.

My mother's mouth opens with a delighted grin
, and laughter rushes out between her perfect teeth. "Are you kidding me? Nicole! Dale adores you."

"Then why hasn't he said it yet? Why did he apply for a school on the other side of the freaking planet?"

Her smile is empathetic as she squeezes my hands. "Nicky, what you two have will defy distance. The only thing that will cause a rift between you is how you deal with this situation. Don't push him away out of fear."

"I'm not pushing him away. He's pushing me away!"

"He's feeling sad...and maybe it's not just about this one rejection...or the stuff with his father. He might be wrestling other demons right now. Maybe he's afraid he'll be rejected by every school he applies for."

My shoulders slump. "I know he is. But..." I frown. "But
, he's so amazing."

"I know that, but a police record is a police record. It's not something that can just disappear."

I look up at my mom's soft words. Man, I love that we can talk. I basically tell her everything now. We grew really tight during my rehab, and she's probably the closest thing I have to a girly friend. That should be lame, but it's not. My mom is cool.

My face crests with a pleading sadness. "What do I do?"

"Love him."

"Love him?"

She nods.

"How? You mean like...phys
—physically?"

"No." Mom blanches, her blue eyes darting to the counter top. "Well, unless you guys..."

I shake my head with a glum smile. "He's waiting for the right one."

She looks more than relieved.

I scowl at her.

She smiles. "It might still be you, sweets. When the timing's right." She touches my cheek. "But remember, there are so many ways to say,
I love you
."

"I don't know what to do."

"You'll figure it out." She grins. "I know you're too afraid to say the words right now, but show him you love him more than you love yourself."

"What?"

Mom tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. Her fingers are shaking just a little. "I know it sounds weird. But when your father and I put each other's needs above our own; we live in a much happier household. We weren't doing that before your accident and look how miserable we all were. Think about it, babes."

And that's all I can do. Her words ring
through my head all night. I'm so restless I end up reading until one o'clock in the morning. This does nothing for my grumpy mood as I drag myself out of bed to get ready for school. I try to skip breakfast, but Dad forces the last half of his banana smoothie into me before Dale's car horn gets me off the hook.

In spite of my tired stupor, I made an extra effort with my make
-up today. I know I look hot, and I can tell Dale notices. His eyes linger over me as I walk toward his car in my black skinny jeans, a hot pink fitted sweater and snug leather jacket. I'm also wearing the Granite dog tags he gave me. They swing against my sternum as I strut (as best I can) towards him in my new kicks. Mom got them for me in LA, and they match my pink top perfectly.

Dale's standing by the passenger door, holding it open for me. I love that he's such a gentlem
an.

Once I'm in, he closes it softly. I watch him walk around the car, playing with his keys. He still looks a little sad around the edges, but I can tell
he's trying to put on a brave face and move past this.

The engine kicks to life and Granite blasts through the car. He makes a dive for the volume control mumbling his apologies. I laugh and tell him not to worry about it.

We head to school in silence, enjoying the rock music. I hum along and Dale soon joins me. We glance at each other and grin.

I love you.
The words are right on the end of my tongue and I so nearly blurt them out. This gives me a fright. I stop humming, pressing my lips together and looking out the window.

His hand finds my leg and gently rubs it. "You okay?"

"Yeah." I turn with a smile. "Are
you
okay?"

He shrugs.

"You'll get in somewhere awesome, Dale. I just know it."

"Yep." He cuts the word short. Man, I wish I could get inside his brain right now. He's usually really good at talking, having spent months in therapy after losing four friends in a car accident.

But about this, he's staying pretty tight lipped, and I'm not sure how much I want to pry out of him. 

"Have you...have you told your dad yet?"

His expression gets all hard as he shakes his head. Okay, so not ready to go there. The mere mention of his dad has embedded these deep worry lines into his forehead. My insides squeeze tight.

"How about other schools.
Have you heard back from any of them?"

"I applied for Columbia way before the others. I wasn't even going to try for anywhere else, but after big chats with my parents, I decided to pick five other schools...just as backups...in case..." His voice sounds small as if the effort to speak is almost too much. "I only se
nt those applications off a few weeks ago."

"Okay, so I guess you'll hear soon then." I'm trying to sound positive, keep my voice light and upbeat.

His eyebrows bunch together and I feel my heart squeeze.

"What?"

"I got another rejection letter last night."

"From where?"

"Princeton." He shakes his head with a wry smile. "I knew I was dreaming with that one." He blinks rapidly, and I swear he looks like he might just cry.

This is killing him. He's freaking out that every college out there will send him an,
I'm sorry to inform you...
letter.

He doesn't deserve that. Do they not realize he's gold?

I love him.

I love him so much I'm actually hurting for him right now. I'm angry on his behalf
. I'm gutted on his behalf, and I want to make this better for him.

As Dale let
s go of my leg and steers his car into the Big Bear High parking lot, my mother's words run through my head once again.

This isn't about me.

Dale wants to get into a good school. Better yet, he wants the school he picked out with his dad. There's no other option. Dale has to go to Columbia. And damn it, I am going to make that happen for him.

He helps me out of the car and leans down to brush a light kiss over my lips. I grab the back of his head and deepen it, catching him by surprise. Thankfully
, his hands curl into my shirt, pulling me close. I press against his firm chest and seriously want to happy sigh at this moment, but my mouth's too busy. My stomach has a little squee-fest instead. The world around us fades to nothing as I send him a silent promise with this one kiss.

The bell ringing across the school finally pulls us apart
, and I can tell Dale's grateful for my spontaneity. His smile is soft and sweet as he takes my hand and walks me up the front steps. I relish his pleasure, my insides buzzing with the thought of just how big his smile will be when he gets into Columbia.

All I need to do
now, is figure out how I'm going to make that happen.