Four Years Later Read Online Free Page B

the cold, early fall night. The house I share with Wade isn’t too far from the downtown area since we live pretty close to campus, and we start our trek down the side street that leads to our neighborhood. Des will crash on our couch like he always does.
    “Remember how I said my counselor wanted to meet with me?” I ask, stuffing my hands in my jeans pockets. I blow out a breath that I can see and hunch my neck lower in my hoodie to ward off the chill.
    “Yeah.” Des makes a skeptical noise. “What the hell was that all about? Like, whose counselor ever wants to meet with a student?”
    “Is she hot?” Wade asks. “Don’t tell me the sexy little waitress is your counselor, dude. ’Cos she’s hot.”
    Irritation fills my veins, making my blood ignite. “No, the waitress is not my counselor, you dumbass. My counselor’s name is Dolores, and I’m pretty sure she’s two hundred years old.”
    “That waitress was nowhere near hot,” Des says, kicking at a rock. It skitters across the broken sidewalk and lands on the side of the road. “Did you see what she was wearing? Black polyester sucks.”
    “How the hell do you know that she’s wearing polyester? What, are you in fashion design now?” Wade sneers.
    Fuck
. These two love to go round and round. Wade is my oldest friend. Des is one of my newer friends. They claim to like each other, but sometimes …
    I wonder.
    “Knock it off,” I tell them both, not in the mood. When am I ever in the mood to hear them fight?
    “So who is she?” Des asks. “The not-hot waitress wearing polyester.”
    I wouldn’t call her hot. But she’s definitely not ugly. She’s … sweet. All clean, wholesome innocence. I bet if I looked close enough, she’d have a sprinkle of freckles across her nose. “I met with my counselor, and Coach and Drew and Fable were there.”
    “Your brother-in-law was there?” Des’s mouth hangs open. He’s in awe of Drew. Wade’s not, because he’s known him forever, but Des and I only became friends early in our freshman year of college. The fact that my brother-in-law plays for the 49ers sends most guys into a dumbstruck stupor.
    “I’m failing a few classes,” I say, my voice grim. “They got me a tutor. The waitress?”
    “Is your tutor,” Wade finishes for me, shaking his head. “Man, you need to keep clean. No more dope for a while.”
    Weed. It’s been my problem for years. I’ve been smoking since I was in junior high, back when we lived with my mom and she didn’t give a shit what we did. Once Fable took over, she forced me to quit. Drew made me
want
to quit. But then …
    I fell back into my bad habits. I can’t help it that I like how I feel when I’m high. Nothing gets me down. My troubles don’t weigh heavily on my soul. And I’ve got them. Troubles. Most of them I created myself.
    Some I didn’t ask for at all. One, specifically, is my mom. She’s like that fly that keeps hovering around you and no matter how much you swat it away, it comes back. Bigger and louder than ever.
    Yeah. That’s her. A nagging, fat, irritating-as-fuck fly.
    “You probably shouldn’t have gone out tonight, either,” Des says.
    Since when did these two idiots turn responsible? “Listen, I’m gonna have to lay low for a while. Catch up on my homework, retake a few tests, and bring my grades up.” I can’t believe I’m saying this. I was totally against it earlier. Only because the tutoring sessions were screwing with my work schedule, and I need that money so Fable doesn’t know I’m giving most of it to Mom.
    But I talked to my boss earlier, before we went bar hopping. Got everything straightened out and a new schedule. I can do all of it. No problem. The tutoring is temporary anyway. Once I get my grades back up, I won’t need Chelsea’s help any longer.
    “You’re gonna be busy,” Wade says. “No time for chicks.”
    “When do I ever make time for chicks?”
    “A few weeks ago, when you brought that one girl