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“My dad actually likes him a lot,” I say. I look down at a lock of my hair as I twirl it around my finger.

“Hmmm…” he says. “What about your mom?”

“My mom? Um, my mom passed away a couple of years ago.” The familiar sting in my throat is there when I say the words.

“Shit, Syd, I’m sorry.”

Grant takes my hand away from the piece of hair that I’ve been obsessively twirling and holds it in his.

“It’s okay.” I shrug. I hate this part. When people feel bad for asking a simple question. Like they should have somehow known. But Grant isn’t like most people. He doesn’t ask a bunch of questions, and in turn, I find myself offering up information more than usual.

“It was a freak thing. A hit and run. She was out jogging, like she did every single morning before work. Some idiot hit her.” I wipe my eyes to make sure they’re still dry. “He just left her there.” Like Trevor left me. Injured. Alone.

Grant listens intently as I play it all out for him. The cops showing up at the door and me being the one to answer. How they held up her license, and asked if I knew her. How I said no and slammed the door in their faces. Grant squeezes my hand lightly every time he hears my voice crack. I tell him how she’s the reason I do gymnastics. How badly she wanted that for me before she died.

“Sometimes, when I’m competing, I feel like she’s with me,” I say before I can stop the words from tumbling out of my mouth. I feel the rush of embarrassment and regret immediately.

Grant notices the change in my demeanor and shakes his head slowly.

“I bet she’s with you all the time, Sydney,” he says.

“You think?”

“Absolutely.”

“I’m afraid I’m disappointing her,” I say.

He laughs, like he can’t believe I just said that.

“Disappointed? Why?”

“I don’t know, like I’m not doing things well enough. I barely spend time with my sister. My grades are slipping…” I let my voice trail off when I see him shaking his head again.

“You can’t be everything to everyone, Syd. I’m sure the only thing you could possibly do to let your mom down is to spend your life unhappy.” I know there are several ways I can interpret his statement. That I spend too much time trying to please everyone. That I try to live up to everyone else’s expectations of me— in gym, in school, at home. That I have a sometimes unstable relationship with my boyfriend… I’m sure he meant the latter.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” I say, jumping up off of the bench. I smile widely and motion for him to get up, too.

“Let’s go check out some more fish!” I try to lighten the mood.

He smiles back for a second, but then his forehead creases and his lips curve downward.

“What is it?” I ask.

He points behind me. “Cameras.”

“Crap,” I say. “Dad or Sam must’ve told them we’d be here.”

“I’m sorry,” he says. Like it’s his fault my life is a total circus.

“Don’t be, it’s not your fault.”

“Do you want me to go somewhere else? Out of their shots, I mean.”

Yes.

“No.” How can I say yes? After I just bared my soul to him. “I want to stop in the gift shop. I bet they can’t follow us in there.” Grant nods and follows me into the tight space. I stop to inspect the display of snow globes. I’m right
;
the cameras can
’
t film inside the gift shop, and it’s too packed in here for them to even attempt a clear shot. Not that I’m that interesting. Geez.

“You collect these?” he asks, picking up a snow globe full of plastic sea horses and star fish.

I shake my head. “No, my sister does. This week.”

I find one that has sharks and mermaids. The combo is ridiculous and makes me laugh, so that’s the one I decide on. Grant stays close to my side as I go to the register to pay. There’s a large glass jewelry case next to the register. My eyes grow wide.

“What? What’s the matter?” Grant asks. The concern is ever present in his voice.

“Nothing, it’s just…” I point into the locked case. A strand of fresh water pearls is on display on the top shelf.
They’re
almost identical to the ones I’d ruined.

“My mom had some just like that,” I say.

“The ones you wore to prom?” he asks. I p
ull
my brows together, how could he remember that?

“I notice everything about you, Sydney,” he adds with a shy shrug of his shoulders, answering the unspoken question in my eyes.

“Yeah, those are the ones. But they broke.” I frown.

“Next customer, please.” The elderly woman behind the counter calls to me. I glance up at Grant’s sympathetic eyes and walk to the other side of the counter to make my purchase.

We walk silently toward the exit. I know the cameras are likely behind us. That I should leave Grant’s side. I just don’t have it in me to fake it right now. I’m here, with him, because I want to be.

“We need to find the class before we end up stranded in Atlanta,” Grant says, resting his hand on the small of my back. He still looks concerned though, ever since I brought up the necklace. He knows there’s more to that story than I alluded to. We’re walking closer now than we had on the way into the aquarium. This time, I don’t have to imagine the warm, clean smell of his
skin;
I can breathe it in, real time now.

“So, you never did tell me, what happened with you and Shayna after prom,” I say. I bump his arm with mine and try to sound blasé, but fail miserably.

Grant lets out a small laugh.

“Actually, if you want to get technical about it,
you
never let me finish telling you,” he qualifies.

“Right.”

“Nothing happened, Sydney. If you know me at all, you’ve got to know that.”

“But I saw you two. I saw you go into the guest room with her. I saw you carry her out the next morning.”

He pinches the skin in between his eyes.

“But nothing happened. She was wasted. I couldn’t very well bring her home like that, but I sure as shit wasn’t going to leave her there, drunk, in a house full of guys, either. I stayed the night in the room with her after she passed out, but I slept on the floor. I drove her home the next morning. That’s it.”

“Oh.” Is all I can lamely
muster.
He grins back at me, seeing the surprise on my face.

“Why in the world would you honestly think…” he starts. “Never mind.” He throws his head back in a booming laugh that catches me off guard. I can’t help but crack a smile and then join in.

We board the bus together, taking the same seats we had on the way to the aquarium—Grant sits one seat in front of me, though this time, he doesn’t keep his back turned to me. I’m thankful that the bus is technically school property and the cameras can’t board with us. Pulling away from them, and the aquarium, the relief is palpable.

“So, what’s on your agenda for the summer?” I ask.

“I’m going back to New York,” he answers. I feel my face fall at the mention of him leaving town. “Just for a month or so.” He winks.

“My mom still has work there and I want to catch up with friends. What about you?”

“I’ll be around. I may actually take a little break from gymnastics. Maybe even relax for a change.”

“I’d love to see that!” He laughs loudly.

“Hey, I can relax!” I swat his strong arm playfully, but quickly recoil.

“I’m sure you can. Maybe I’ll be around to hang out sometime.”

I cringe involuntarily.

“Or not…” he says. He sounds a little hurt.

“It’s not that. It’s just…”

“Trevor,” he says, flatly.

I nod meekly. The end of school is quickly approaching. I only have a few weeks left with Trevor before he’s graduated. He’d been accepted into his first choice school, The University of Georgia. He’ll even be playing lacrosse for them. Trevor and I haven’t talked much about what will happen with us when he leaves. Mostly because we’re both so busy, but also, because Athens is less than two hours away, so neither of us has been overly concerned about our relationship changing too drastically. He’
ll
be home on weekends. And holidays. He’
ll
make time to see me, right?

“Sydney,” Grant says in a much
quieter,
more
serious tone than our conversation had been
in
up to this point. The way he breathes my name, with the tiniest bit of pain behind it makes my heart jump. “I meant what I said earlier. I’m here if you need anything…”

“I know,” I say. Still, I stare down at my lap, unable to look up
and
meet his gaze. Finally, I peek out from under the protective cover of my hair. “How do you know when enough is enough?” My question is overly broad, but I know he’ll understand.

He’s quiet for a while. Carefully crafting his response, as usual.

“Well, I think everyone has their own limit, their own breaking point. Until someone reaches that limit on their own, no one can tell
them what
is right or wrong,
or, what you asked, when enough is enough.
They
just have to figure it out for
themselves
.”

He shrugs and I mull it over for a minute. I’m not exactly sure what I’m asking Grant, or even why. He senses that his answer isn’t enough for me.

“You know, when I was a kid, my older brother and I used to wrestle a lot. We only had one rule when we did, and that was that we would stop and let the other go if they yelled
mercy
. He and I would both hold off saying it as long as we could. Even if the other had gotten out of hand and we were really hurting, we would wait until we absolutely couldn’t stand it anymore before we’d say mercy.” He’s smiling at the memory.

“If you’re asking what I think you are, I don’t think relationships should be like our wrestling matches. Relationships are supposed to make you happy, and bring something good to your life. When that stops, for me at least, then it’s time to think about moving on. It’s just my opinion, of course, but I think you should get out while you still have some peace of mind. Why stick around until you’re yelling mercy, you know?”

“But what if you don’t have a breaking point?” I ask.

“Everyone has a breaking point, Syd. Some people are just better at putting up with other peoples
’
crap than most,” he says with a slight laugh, lightening the mood again.

The rest of the ride back to school is filled with less serious topics. We pull into the school parking lot just as the final bell is ringing for the day. Grant turns to me again. His messy hair is falling in his face a little more than usual.

“I don’t want to complicate your life, Sydney. But I do want to be your friend. I can keep my distance, if that’ll make things easier for you, but I really don’t want to go back to not even talking.”