"I came to your house a few times this week," I said. "You weren't home." I glanced nervously at him, hoping he would say something to make me feel better—anything.
He nodded. "I needed to make some money, Ten. With all the studying I've been doing, I've neglected some bills. And I have to eat."
My heart dropped. "Kyland, we had a little extra. I could have spared some food."
He was silent for so long, I didn't think he'd say anything. Finally, he looked at me, a raw sadness in his eyes and said, "There's no need. I'm fine now."
So much unsaid between us now. Another crack formed in my heart. I wasn't sure how many cracks it could take. I didn't want to know.
We walked in silence for a while, the morning filled with the sound of birdsong, the warm spring air caressing my face and my bare arms. The rhododendrons were in bloom—we passed by one that was so full of red blooms it looked like a blazing inferno of flowers. Everything in nature felt new. I inhaled deeply and smelled the mixture of fresh soil and new leaves. Maybe we could be new, too. Very suddenly, the world seemed ripe with possibility as the boy I loved walked solemnly next to me. Maybe we both just needed to get over ourselves, have a little hope. Plus, this was going to be a good day for him—he just didn't know it yet. I squinted up at him. "So, big day today."
He frowned down at me. "Yeah." The smile disappeared from my face. He stopped in the road and turned to me. "Tenleigh, whatever happens today, I . . ." He ran his hand through his hair in that sexy, unsure way that he did. "It's the way it's meant to be, okay?"
I furrowed my brow, not understanding exactly what that meant. "Okay," I agreed anyway. I already knew what was going to happen today. I had made peace with it.
We walked the rest of the way mostly in silence, but a pleasant enough one. I couldn't read his mood, but I figured that was to be expected. I left him alone with his thoughts. He was probably nervous, anxious, and afraid. The last four years of his life, all the suffering, all the pain, all the work, all the sacrifice, all the hunger, it was going to come down to one moment at the school assembly we were walking into in only a few hours. I wanted to reassure him, but I didn't. He couldn't know what I'd done.
So many things hung between us in the air that morning, so many things neither of us spoke of. So many secrets, so many half-truths, so much pain.
When we got to the door of the school, he leaned forward and took my face in his hands and kissed my forehead, his lips lingering there as if he was gathering himself. And then he backed up and looked at me, smiling a small smile, his eyes moving over my face as if he was memorizing me, as if he was saying goodbye.
I opened my mouth to speak, to beg him to do something, to ask him to explain what was happening. But I had no idea what. He turned and walked into the school. He didn't look back.
**********
Later, when I recalled that assembly, it seemed like a dream, like I hadn't really been there in the flesh when they called my name. I had been so ready to hear the name Kyland Barrett called when the winner of the scholarship was awarded, that my brain didn't hear my own name instead. And so I sat there, smiling and clapping with the rest of the student body. The girl next to me laughed and elbowed me, smiling kindly as she said, "Get up there."
I had blinked and looked around, shock gripping me. No! No, this wasn't right. I even whispered it, "No," as I was pulled up and pushed along the aisle, faces smiling at me and congratulations being called out as I moved along the row of students, drawing their legs to the side to make room. I looked around wildly for Kyland and finally spotted him, sitting with his last period class, the look on his face strangely blank. "No," I whispered again.
"Tenleigh Falyn," Edward Kearney announced again, beaming at me from the stage. I didn't remember walking up there, but suddenly I was in front of him and his large, capped smile was right in front of me. He laughed, a deep chuckle, the same one I recalled coming from the small bedroom of our trailer as the bed squeaked and my mama moaned.
I looked back at Kyland's seat, but he wasn't there. He had gone.
"Well, congratulations," he said. "I can see this is quite a shock." I looked over to our principal, Mrs. Branson, and she grinned widely at me. I didn't smile back.
The rest of that hour went by in a haze. I wanted to jump up and run out of there. I wanted to chase after Kyland. I wanted to comfort him, talk to him, be with him. What was he feeling right now? Oh, Kyland. I wanted to scream.
How could it be that I was getting the one thing I had dreamed of more than any other over my high school career, and it was like a nightmare? Funny how our dreams can shift in what seems like an instant.
When it was over, when there had been applause and congratulations, when I'd been handed the paperwork telling me that my tuition at San Diego State University had been paid in full, including my dorm room, and an account opened in my name that would pay for my meals, when all my dreams had supposedly come true, I went tearing out of there straight to Mrs. Branson's office.
"Tenleigh," she said, surprised laughter bubbling from her when I barged into her office and shut the door behind me, probably looking crazed.
"I can't take the scholarship," I blurted out. "There's been a mistake."
Mrs. Branson laughed again, but her brows furrowed. "Tenleigh, my dear, there hasn't been a mistake. Mr. Kearney had all that paperwork drawn up already. It's all set, all in your name. Mistakes aren't made when it comes to something important like that. You won it, honey. Fair and square."