Collin studied me for a few seconds, but then it was too hard to keep my eyes open. “How long have you been out?” he asked, trying to guess my question. “About an hour. How long have you been in the ice shower? About ten minutes, and you’re almost done.”
What felt like seconds later, I was waking up much like I had before. Screaming. This time in agony. The water was hot. Scalding hot. There was still some ice on me, but Collin was pulling me up, and the water felt like it was burning me.
“Don’t show your pain, Harlow,” he reminded me with a gentle voice.
I tried to clench my teeth together, but soon I was screaming again. I didn’t understand why the pain wasn’t stopping. I thought Collin had been pulling me up; I thought I’d been getting out of the shower . . . where had he gone? The hoarse screams continued for a minute before they slowly started dying out, and soon they were gone. I gradually became aware of the fact that my face was pressed against the shower floor, which was now clear of ice, and that I was choking on water . . . but I didn’t care anymore. I wanted to go back to sleep again.
Everything in me hurt. Everything in me ached. Everything in me screamed.
“Good girl, don’t show your pain,” he whispered. The water shut off, and Collin picked me up off the floor again, but I couldn’t stand on my legs, so he pulled me up into his arms. “Let’s get you in bed.”
Collin laid me in the bed without a towel, and wrapped the sheets and comforter tightly around me until all that showed was my face and wet hair. He sat on the edge of the bed as he ran his hand over my hair a few times, and leaned down to kiss my forehead. Without leaning back, he whispered against my skin, “Before you woke up the last time, a friend of the family who works at your doctor’s office called me back. I had her check your records. She backed up your story that you don’t have a prescription for birth control, and that you’ve never had any procedures to prevent a pregnancy.”
I was glad I didn’t have the strength to show a reaction to what he’d said. If I would’ve known that there were family friends in the office, I would’ve never risked getting the implant done there, but I was so grateful for whoever had left it off my records.
“Hadley is safe, too.”
My body relaxed and I felt myself drifting again. “Thank you,” I mouthed before sleep claimed me.
Chapter 11
Knox
Present Day—Richland
I GLANCED AT my phone to check the time again, and finally broke down to call Harlow. She was an hour late. Normally I wouldn’t have waited that long for anyone, and normally I would’ve called if the person I was meeting was a little late, but I already knew how much it scared Harlow to have the phone I’d bought for her. I didn’t want to continuously scare her by reminding her of it every time I started worrying about her.
Tapping on her name, I brought the phone up to my ear and tried to calm the shaking in my arms and legs.
Fall 2010—Walla Walla
I COULDN’T STOP shaking as I waited for her to pick up her phone. The entire last three months had been more of the same: constant bouncing knees and shaking hands; but it was all about to be over soon. Within minutes, I was going to have the girl I’d been waiting for. As soon as I heard her answer the phone, I looked up at her dorm and couldn’t hide the wide smile that spread across my face.
“KNOX, I’M SO sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen,” Harlow whispered into the phone a couple of minutes later.
Didn’t mean for this to happen? The girl I’ve waited for just told me she didn’t wait for me. She apologized to me, this isn’t a joke—this is actually happening. The girl I love doesn’t love me anymore.
“Say something,” she begged.
I worked my throat a few times to make sure I could actually speak before saying anything, but even then, I felt dead when I said, “I will always love you. Nothing can change that. Happy birthday, Harlow.”
I couldn’t end the call fast enough. I couldn’t get away fast enough; but I also couldn’t move.
I don’t know how long I’d been standing there in the rain when someone said, “Whatever you did, that’s a good start, man—but it’s only a start.”
It took a few seconds to comprehend the voice was talking to me. I looked up at the guy walking in my direction away from Harlow’s dorm, and gave him a confused look.
He gestured to the flowers in my hand—red poppies. “You look like shit and you’re holding flowers. It’s a good start, but you’re better off buying something she can show off. Know what I mean? Sure way to make them happy and forget whatever happened.” He laughed and smacked my shoulder as he walked past me, but it was enough to get me to move.
I turned around and headed back toward the parking lot, only stopping to hand over the flowers to the first girl I passed. As soon as I was in my car, I sat there for what felt like hours playing with the ring I’d had in my pocket before finally putting it back in the box it had come in, and started the drive back to Seattle.
I’d known it was crazy, and probably a long shot, but I’d gone to Harlow’s dad a week before she’d left for college to ask if I could marry her. It had been a long talk that had ultimately ended in me promising that we wouldn’t get married until she graduated, among some other conditions, but he’d given me his blessing to ask her after she turned eighteen, and I’d gone to buy a ring that night.
Because I’d known that nothing would come between us. And now, all I wanted to do was blame her dad. The conversation I’d had with him months ago flashed through my mind, and I bit back a curse because I knew this was his fault . . . all of it was his fault.
“I can’t believe I’m about to say this,” Mr. Evans said after long minutes of staring blankly at the floor. “Knox, you may ask her to marry you, but there are conditions.”
I straightened in the chair and tried to contain my smile. “Anything.”
“She needs to graduate before you get married.”
I wanted to remind him that that was another four years away, but still didn’t care as long as it meant she was mine. “Done.”
“And this one might be harder for you . . .”
“Harder than waiting another four years?” I teased, but Mr. Evans didn’t seem to find it funny.