Allyson Reed shapes her life to make her parents proud, but whenever she's with Daxson Winters, the star wide receiver with a troubled past, her perfectly-crafted existence crumbles at the seams.
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"A-Allyson," Caleb's voice chimed as his face appeared on the FaceTime call beside my mother. "Why aren't you here? This is like the thirteenth day that you've m-miss... not been at breakfast at six."
When my parents dropped me off two weeks ago, I explained to Caleb that things would be different while I was at college. He'd rolled his eyes and made some joke about how he was smarter than he looked, but according to my mother he'd been making things difficult, although I usually took her words with a grain of salt. To her, it seemed like the definition of the word difficult was having to say anything to Caleb at all.
"I know, Caleb, but you're going to start having breakfast by yourself now. I had to go away to school, remember?" I stretched my legs beneath the compact desk and shivered from the cool air circulating the dorm room.
"Right. I r-remember that." Caleb tapped his index finger and his thumb together. "B-But I wish there was a college closer to home. I m-miss you always being here."
"I know."
I hated to leave Caleb. The guilt ate me alive most nights.
I knew my parents wouldn't take care of him like I did. My father was the best hope, but this time of the year kept him busy. Harvest season meant that dad left at sunrise and returned home after sunset.
My mother, well, she barely knew Caleb's schedule, let alone his favorite food or outfits. Oh, and Lord forbid Caleb have a tantrum. Those were the biggest embarrassment to her.
My mother's eyebrows squished together in her signature annoyed look. "Caleb, we've already told you that your sister wouldn't be home. She got accepted to the University of Alabama. She's going to make us so proud," she cooed as she waved her fingers at me with a smile.
"I'll try my hardest." I forced a smile and turned my attention back to Caleb. "I promise I'll be home for Thanksgiving. You know we have our tradition."
The thought of me coming home turned on a switch in a dark room. Caleb's eyes lit up and the tapping of his fingers slowed. He grabbed the phone from my mother. She protested, but he leaned away from her grabbing hands and centered the camera.
His freckled face filled the entire screen. "Fresh p-pecan pie. By far my favorite tradition."
A laugh escaped my lips. "Better than matching Christmas pajamas?"
"Way b-better." His crooked smile warmed my heart.
I scoffed. "Why's that? You can't match your sister?"
Caleb glanced away from the screen. "Y-You know those pajamas are always u-ug... hideous."
I giggled. "They aren't that bad."
He tapped his fingers together. "They aren't t-that good either."
I shook my head.
"Promise you'll b-be home for Thanksgiving?" He asked with a few nervous blinks.
