The first week of December flew by. True to his word, Brax had somehow managed to convince Professor Callander to give me my job back at the observatory. Noah had been waiting for me in astronomy and gave me the good news. And when I’d shown up at work that afternoon, and thanked the professor, he just looked at me with those gentle brown eyes, and nodded. “I’m sure you won’t disappoint me, Olivia,” he said. He hadn’t mentioned Brax at all.
After work, my heart and brain divided once more, and as Steven and I parted ways at the front entrance, my eyes scanned the parking lot for Brax’s bike. I continued to check my rear view mirror for it the whole way back to Oliver Hall, but I never saw it. Not once. And when I climbed into bed, amidst Tessa’s non-stop chatter about her and Cory’s weekend plans, I checked my phone. My text messages. Nothing from Brax. And I was disappointed. I willed myself to stop being so obsessive, and to stop thinking so much about Brax. To stay on track and get my grades back up. Easier said than done.
Over the next two and a half weeks I stayed crazy busy. When I wasn’t in class, I was at the library. When I wasn’t at either of those places I worked overtime at the observatory. Brax’s presence in humanities made life nearly impossible, but I did it. He was nice. Cordial. And would most of the time scoot out of class ahead of me. I’d step out of the building in time to see him jogging to his next class, in that bow-legged swagger that he had. And while Kelsy didn’t directly bother me anymore, I’d notice a sly grin on his face. One that reeked of victory, of power over me and my family. It made me want to charge him and slap it right off. I didn’t, though. I’d decided he wasn’t worth it.
Brax didn’t call. He didn’t text. But every once in a while, I looked at him in class. And he’d be looking right back at me. And I’d see in his eerie eyes a somberness that shook me. It drove me completely crazy. I almost called him. More than once. But each time I’d pull up his name on my out-of-date flip phone, my finger would hover over the call button, and I’d snap it shut. He was driving me internally kookoo. And it’d been my decision for it to be that way. I’d denied him. My fault. Told him I’d needed more time to sort things out. Well, I’d had time, and Brax had made sure I’d had it, too. I wasn’t sure now that it’d been the right decision. But what was I to do about it now?
The last day of class before Winston let out for the Christmas holidays, Brax was absent. I’d made it to class early, hoping to speak to him. I wondered what he planned on doing for the holidays, and thought about inviting him home. My eyes stayed glued to the doorway, waiting, and when he didn’t show, my heart sank. I could’ve called him, or texted him. But I didn’t. After saying goodbye to Tessa at the dorm, I loaded my scope and pack into the truck and started for home. Disappointment followed me. Made me a little gloomy, even. Not only was I facing my first Christmas without Jilly, but I missed Brax. Truly missed him. I’d turned him away, and he’d gone without another look-back. I’d blown my chance, I supposed.
The day was gray, cold, but the miles flew by and before long, I pulled into the ranch’s winding drive. No sooner did I kill the truck’s engine did my cell phone ring. I grabbed it, hoping it was Brax. It was Tessa instead.
“Oh. My. God,” she said immediately. “Chica, are you home yet?”
“Yeah,” I answered. “Just got here.”
“Good. Go straight inside and check your email. I’ve sent you a link.” She paused. “It’s Brax. And it’s freaking bad.”
Fear froze my insides. “Okay. Let me get inside.”
“Call me right back. You have to see this now.”
I hurried inside, and Mom greeted me at the door. “Hey, baby,” she said, and I hurried right by her. “Where’s the fire?”
“Tessa just called. Something’s happened to Brax.” I set my bag down, fished my laptop out of my pack, and took it over to the sofa.
“And it’s on your computer?” Mom asked.
“Apparently,” I answered. She sat beside me and I pulled up my email. A YouTube link. I clicked it, and my stomach dropped as I waited. I called Tessa.
“Are you on it yet?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said. Then my eyes widened as the video began. A bar. Brax, in a Winston baseball jersey.
“Is that Brax beating the horse snot out of …?” Mom stared closer at the screen. “Kelsy Evans?”
“It is.” He was, too. Like rabid-dog fighting and beating the holy hell out of Kelsy. I stared hard, studied it. Replayed the video. “That’s not recent.”