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Ah. Now we were getting somewhere.
“I’m just so stressed all the time. Hanging with the guys helps take the edge off.”
“So you’re partying more than normal?” Trent said.
Jimmy slumped against the table, propping his head up with his hand. “I guess. It’s just…more fun than trying to make sense of some of the readings or trying to pay attention in class when I don’t get what’s happening anyway.”
“Are your classes not interesting?” I asked, wondering if that was the problem.
“No,” he said, frustrated. “I guess…It’s more that I never had to work this hard at anything before.”
Okay, so he was frustrated with himself for not picking up course material as quickly as he did in high school. My heart went out to him. “Do you think maybe it’s time to update your learning style?”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Maybe there’s a student resource center where they could give you some tips.”
Trent looked over at me, his eyebrows raised. I didn’t know if he was impressed or thought I was overstepping, but I plowed on anyway.
“You know, I struggled with school a lot,” I said to Jimmy. “Book learning was never my thing. Put a math problem down in front of me and I was all over that. But English or history or anything with long passages of text and essays totally wasn’t my jam. I had to figure out strategies to help me succeed at those subjects. I had a guidance counselor who really helped. I bet there are people here who could give you some ideas.”
“That’s a great idea,” Trent said. “You could try that, Jimmy. Get all the help you can to make life easier, huh?”
I couldn’t help being moved by how great Trent was with his brother, mixing praise and advice without being overbearing.
“You’ve always succeeded at what you set your mind to,” Trent continued. “So I have no doubt you’ll figure this out too.” He reached across the table, squeezing Jimmy’s shoulder. “But regardless of what marks you get, I’m so freaking proud of you.You got intoPrinceton, man. That was all you, Jimmy. And no grade, no professor, can change that.”
Jimmy flushed at Trent’s praise.
Our food arrived, and as we ate, Trent and Jimmy chatted about Nana Dee and sports and all the rest of the things brothers talked about.
A soft feeling of nostalgia washed over me, and it took a while to realize that it was because Trent’s reassurances to his brother were exactly the kind of support my parents used to give me. When I was struggling in school, they’d point out all the things I was great at and tell me I was going to do amazing things one day with my talents. Hearing that same sort of encouragement made me miss them a lot—but strangely, it feltgoodto miss them, to remember their warmth and belief in me. There was softness attached to those memories, and I savored the moment.
As much as I wished I’d had more time with my parents, I could only be grateful for the time we did have. After we were done with dinner, Trent and I walked Jimmy back to his dorm. When we reached Whitman College, Trent and Jimmy stopped to say goodbye, doing a complicated handshake that I’m sure they’d spent years perfecting.
“It was good to meet you, Natasha,” Jimmy said, turning to me.
“Nice to meet you too.” I pulled him into a hug. After all we’d shared this evening, I wanted us to stay in touch, so I slipped Jimmy my number on the back of the receipt paper from the restaurant.
“Just in case you ever need someone to talk to,” I explained. “And can’t get a hold of your brother.”
Jimmy nodded in thanks, then shot Trent a look. He snapped the paper between his hands. “Told you I’ve got game.”
I laughed and Trent rolled his eyes as Jimmy sauntered off, looking much more positive than when we’d arrived.
“Shall we head back?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Trent said. “Now that you’ve tried to pick up my brother.”
“Ugh,” I complained. “I was not trying to pick him up. He’s a literal child.”
“I know.” He gave me a rare, teasing grin. “I’m kidding. But seriously, thanks for doing that.” He reached out to take my hand, squeezing it gently. “Jimmy doesn’t have a lot of people in his life he can count on. It’s nice to know he has one more.”
“Of course,” I said, trying not to shiver at his touch.He’s just holding your hand, you ninny. Pull it together.I turned and climbed into the driver’s seat. “Ready?”
Trent climbed up beside me. “Let’s get this death trap back to New York.”
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