Chapter 43

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Taylor

"Taylor, wait a minute," Callie held me back before I could disappear into the bathroom.

The evening had been total chaos. It took forever to get everyone to bed. I leaned against the door frame.

"About college-"

"I can't do it," I interrupted her, before walking over to her and sitting down on the edge of the bed beside her. "Maybe in a few years. When Susan and Coulder are older."

Callie pursed her lips.

"There will never be the right moment, Taylor. If you don't do it now, you probably won't do it at all," Callie reached for my hand and looked at me intensely. "You got the scholarship! You have to seize the opportunity!"

I sighed softly. It's not that I didn't want to, but I just didn't see a way to juggle everything.

"You saw what happened tonight. Coulder took drugs!"

"Not on purpose," Callie interjected, and I scoffed.

"Does that make it better?"

"They are good kids, Taylor. Maybe a bit chaotic and hyperactive, but they can handle a few days on their own," Callie squeezed my hand and nodded encouragingly.

With a sigh, I fell back onto the bed. "I don't know... We've just gotten used to the new routine. I don't want to disrupt everything again."

"I'm not saying it will be easy, but you surely aren't the only student who has other commitments alongside college. Maybe you can extend some things so you don't have too many courses at once, or take some online," Callie suggested.

I studied Callie. The way she said it sounded so simple, but if there was one thing I had learned in recent years, it was that things were never just easy. What if something happened while I was in Louisiana? If someone had to be picked up early from school or got sick? Even if I left immediately, it would take me at least two hours to get back.

Callie observed me attentively before lying down beside me and lightly nudging me.

"You don't have to decide right away. But promise me you won't just dismiss it completely, okay? At least go for a counseling session and ask about the options that are available to you. Maybe the situation isn't as hopeless as you think."

I pondered for a while before finally nodding. I had nothing to lose, right?



"I told you that you should have changed into something dry right away," Noah leaned with his back against the bathroom door.

"Shut up," Jackson's voice came from the bathroom shortly after. Was I mistaken, or did he sound hoarse?

I approached the two of them and glanced into the bathroom. Jackson was sitting next to the toilet, with his head resting on his knees.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Jackson is sick," Noah chuckled softly. "If he hadn't kept falling off the roof-"

"Shut up," Jackson whimpered again, lifting his head. "I'm perfectly fine."

Judging by his sweaty hair and pale skin, "perfectly fine" wasn't the right choice of words.

"Tell that to your breakfast. I bet it didn't expect to take the same route back so soon."

"Can you both just leave now?" Jackson complained irritably, leaning against the wall.

"Oww, why? Are you tired?" Noah provocatively asked, and I pushed him back into the hallway before Jackson's mood worsened.

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