The Certainty of Second Chances

Chapter Two

My parents never made it to my high school graduation.

For two hours, I sat in a chair wondering what it might be like if they were here, while parents clapped and cheered for their beloved graduates, their flesh and blood. I drove myself home immediately after the ceremony that night, forgoing a celebratory dinner with Rachael's family. Instead, I sat on the couch and watched America's Funniest Home Videos until I fell asleep. I woke up sometime during the night to find a blanket strewn across my legs, knowing my grandma must have laid it on me before she went to bed.

I remember how the videos on tv had made me think more about my parents' absence than sitting alone in the arena had that night.

I recalled the night that changed everything for what felt like the millionth time. I had come home from school and had decided to cook dinner for the entire family. I was still pretty young at that point – maybe fourteen – so it hadn't been anything fancy; just a box of spaghetti and some homemade meatballs, my great grandma's recipe. My mom taught me how to cook a few years before, and I loved the idea of surprising everyone when they came home. But the only ones who actually ate dinner were me and our old German Shephard, Jupiter.

My dad hadn't been home from work at all that day. Mom called the house from the office informing me that my dad met up with her there and that they were going out, much to my dismay. My dad's job as an architect had certainly taken a toll on our family time, but it ceased to disrupt the romance between them.

For the first time, I understood why Mom was always upset when my dad had missed dinner due to his business obligations.

I never saw my parents after that, but Noah barely missed them. Only two at the time, he'd hardly gotten to know them before they both died.

I wasn't even sure who to blame for the accident if he asked. The police officer had told my grandmother that my parents had both been drinking, though neither was over the legal limit. The other driver had apparently fled the scene too soon. I knew we'd never get the whole story because of that asshole, whoever they were, but I vowed to never stop searching.

I mean, I was still searching for answers four years later. There was no other way for me to come to terms with it because nothing else could explain why my entire life had altered in that one night. Just like our house, I had to sell my dreams of studying art at the Chicago Institute of Art for a simple life in Stone River.

Why did everything have to change?

My eyes dropped to the sketchbook in front of me as I let out a sigh of frustration. Of course, I eventually came to the conclusion that attending a university or receiving a scholarship was never going to be worth the time I would have missed out on spending with my younger brother. We didn't always get along, and he made things a little more complicated, but he was the only family I had left. That kid had a special place in my heart.

As it was, the portrait in front of me needed a bit of work.

I could have picked anyone to draw, but the young man studying in the main hall had captivated my attention for the last month. Every day since then, I've sat in the same spot, just as he.

He sat on a sofa near the open windows with one foot crossed over the other and his shoulders hunched over a book on his lap. His dark hair, which was a stark contrast to his fair skin, fell in long strands over his face. In my drawing, his eyes looked like the cerulean ocean in morning July - blue, but with a hint of light. In reality, I had no idea what color they actually were.

He suddenly raised his head, as if sensing my thoughts. I couldn't see his eyes, but a gentle smile touched his lips as he looked my way. My pencil had stalled in the middle of a stroke, and I was stunned. It was the first time he'd seen me since the start of classes when our arrangement had begun.