THIS STORY CONTAINS STRONG LANGUAGE AND MATURE THEMES THAT MAY NOT BE SUITABLE FOR ANYONE UNDER THE AGE OF 18
Although this book does contain a couple love scenes this is not a smut filled book, and is instead more of a sweet, emotion filled romance...
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The news came for both of us the same day.
It was weird in a way that it worked out like that.
Harold called us down to his office together, pulling us out of class.
We gave each other an oh-shit look as they called our names out over the intercom.
We knew this was going to be either one of two things or both. Either they decided to put an "end" to Heather and me being together or they knew that we had snuck out. There was no in-between.
But as soon as they call our names, I know that I am ready to take full blame for anything they say. I'm not about to let Heather's future be screwed up or risk Josh and Britney's jobs because they helped us get in and out that night.
But I don't have any clue as to how wrong I would be.
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I grab Heather's hand as soon as we are to ourselves.
"Hey, look at me." I say, pulling her to my chest by the hip, my other hand holding the back of her neck. "Listen, don't worry; no matter what Harold says, I got you. You won't get in trouble, baby, I promise."
I know he knows about Heather and me and has for months. I just can't fathom why he is going to bust us for it now when we were right at graduation and when he seemed completely on board with it before.
We enter the office, and Harold is sitting behind his desk.
I look over at Heather, whose face is panicked, but I grab her hand again, not caring that he sees me giving her a reassuring squeeze.
"Dylan. Heather. Please have a seat."
We share a quick glance at each other and sit in the chairs facing him.
"As the two of you undoubtedly know, we usually don't bring people in here together, but with as close as the two of you seem to be..."
Ok, I'm going to cut him off before he has a chance to punish Heather. I won't let her get into trouble and possibly miss out on her graduation.
"Listen, I know that there are rules, and we aren't supposed to be dating while we are here or doing anything else but, sir."
"Dylan, this isn't about whatever relationship you two have, which I don't know exists, by the way." He says, looking at us with an expression that says that he won't say anything as long as we don't.
But if he didn't bring us here to bust us for having sex, what the hell are we here for?
"But sir, if not that, then..."
My heart races as I now realize that it has to do with us sneaking out.
"This is rather difficult for me to say, young man, but the news came almost simultaneously, and I thought that you would need each other to lean on."
"I'm not understanding any of this, sir. What news?"
Did someone turn us in? The only people who knew that we snuck out were Josh, Britney, and Ira the guard, and neither of them would say anything. Unless someone saw us and recognized us at the restaurant...
"There's no easy way to say this, so bear with me." He says this, taking a deep breath and ringing his hands together. "Heather this morning, we received a call from Ann, wanting to let us know she and Bartholomew are both on their way here; she got a call sometime during the night that your mother had passed away."
"What?"
I grab her hand, squeezing it tightly.
This whole situation is taking a complete one-eighty from where I thought it was going only a few seconds ago.
"I'm so sorry for your loss." Harold says, looking at her sympathetically.
"It's not much of a loss," Heather says quietly back at him. "Let me guess she ODed." She asks, shaking her head.
"I don't know any of the details to be able to answer that. Ann should be here anytime, and I'm sure she can tell you more."
"So, is that it?" I ask, feeling like that wasn't the only reason he brought us here. Even though I can see why he may have wanted me to be here with her when he told her the news, there's something in the look he has and the tone of voice he is using that makes me think there has to be more to it.
"No, unfortunately, it isn't. Dylan, you received a letter early this morning, and as you know, we have to open every incoming package, and given the nature of the letter, we wanted to give you a warning before you opened it. "
"Who is it from? The only people who send me mail are Bart or Ann, and I don't see how anything they wrote could be..."
"Your parents." He says he is opening his desk drawer, pulling out an already-opened envelope, and handing it to me.
"My parents?" I ask, surprised. "But why would they...?"
"I'm going to give you two some privacy. Just remember, there are many people here who care deeply about you both. Also, know that it is at times like these that you will need each other the most. Take as much time as you need, and I will be just outside if you need me."
He stands up, giving us both another sympathetic look, and pats me on the shoulder before he leaves the room, shutting the door behind him.
I finger the envelope in my hand.
"What do you think it is?" Heather asks, her eyes dropping to the letter in my hand.
"I have no idea, but the way he is acting makes me almost afraid to open it and find out."
She nods and asks gently. "Do you want me to open it?"
I think about it for a moment, almost considering it, but I know that there's no way I'm going to ask her to do that.
Knowing my parents, I'm unsure of what the letter contains and me asking her to be the one to read it and tell me. I just can't.
"No, I'll read it." I squeeze her hand and give her the best smile I can muster as I let go and slide the thick stationary from the envelope.
I read and reread the letter. But no matter how many times I read it in its entirety, it doesn't get any better.
I can feel the anger that I thought I had worked through making itself felt again.
My face is hot, my palms are sweaty, and I will myself to calm down. To get control of it.
"Whatever it is, we'll get through it together." Heather says beside me.
As soon as she speaks, I can feel the anger being washed away.
My calm.
My peace.
I don't even know how to put the words I've read into speech, so I just hand her the letter and let her read it for herself.
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Ann and Bart get to Westward before we have even left Harold's office.
The pair knock at the door and come in, gathering us both in a tight hug.
The mixture of emotions is overwhelming.
The love and gentleness they bring with them is welcomed, and I let them and Heather help ease the hurt with their embrace.
