His Eyes by Renee Carter Page A

you going? Evanston?”
     “I don’t know!” I cried. “That’s the problem!  I’ve been accepted to both schools, but Evanston’s so much money—”
    “And that’s why you’re working for my mother.” Tristan set down his spoon.
     I bit my lip and nodded. “Yeah.”
    He turned his head toward me. “The job. I almost forgot.”
    “Me too,” I whispered and looked down at my empty ice cream bowl.  “Do you want to head back?”
    “No. Not yet.”
    I looked up, blinking dumbly. He wanted to spend more time with me? I fumbled awkwardly, “Oh! Well...there’s a record store around the corner.  If you like Coldplay, you should really listen to Jon Buckley. He was popular in the 90s, but I think you’ll like him.”
    Tristan’s smile flashed as he said “Sounds good,” and I melted.

Chapter 8
     
    Driving home that afternoon, I was giddy. We’d had a great time, actually hanging out like...friends. And he loved Jon Buckley so much that we listened to almost the whole CD in the store before the manager told us we’d better buy something or leave. So, I bought it for him. It was just a gift, a friend ly gift. I wanted him to be able to listen to it whenever he wanted to...and maybe to think of me when he heard it. Was that so wrong? I didn’t want to know.
    I was still smiling while I pulled into my driveway. I noticed a different car sitting in front of my house, but I didn’t think much of it as I walked inside. A man was standing in the kitchen with my parents. He was wearing a polo shirt, khakis, and a wedding ring; I pegged him as some client of my dad’s who was dropping off paperwork. I swung the front door shut behind me, just when he turned to face me.
    He had jade eyes—my mom’s eyes—and his face! It was Charlie ! He was no longer the skinny eighteen-year-old of my memory, but a thirty-year-old adult. I immediately ran forward and threw my arms around his neck. “Oh my God!” I smiled over his shoulder and saw my dad’s eyes: angry, worried eyes.
    “Where were you?” Dad asked the obvious trick question.
    I let go of my brother and told the truth, “Sitting Tristan.”
    “I thought you said you weren’t dating him. Charlie said that he saw the two of you walking, arm-in-arm, into Ice Cream World.”
    “That doesn’t mean anything.” I shrugged, but my blushing cheeks gave me away. “We’re not dating.”
    “Well, I have to meet this guy,” my brother said firmly.
    “What?” I gaped at him.
    “Charlie’s right. I don’t know if I like the idea of you getting paid to spend time with a boy you have a crush on.” Dad added with a tone of finality, “If you want to keep this job, then we have to meet him.”
    I huffed, “You don’t understand. I’m making good money, good enough to pay for Evanston.”
    I hadn’t realized what I’d said until I saw the flash in Dad’s eyes. “What?! Evanston College?”
    “Uh, shouldn’t we be talking about Charlie?” I stalled, rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly.
    “Hey, I’m good, sis,” said Charlie with a quick smile.
    With little choice, I blurted, “I-I was accepted to Evanston College. I really want to go there—it’s such an amazing school—but I know that it’s way too expensive. So, I sent in money to hold my spot and then, when I got this job, I realized that it was actually a possibility—”
    Dad frowned. “What money?”
    “My savings,” I answered sheepishly.
    “Your savings?” Dad shook his head, slowly walked over to a kitchen chair, and sat down heavily. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell us.”
    Seeing the hurt look on his face, a sickening feeling of guilt washed over me. I said quietly, “I’m sorry.”
    Dad rubbed his hands over his face and then looked up at me. “You know, Amy, your mother and I want you to be happy. But, have you really thought about this? I’m sure Evanston is a great school, but by the time you graduate you’ll be at least $120,000 in debt—no matter