Page 25 of Beautiful Trauma

“All four tires were nearly bald, and I couldn’t—” I didn’t want to finish the sentence or have him read too much into the truth.

Seeing right through me, Henry said, “You couldn’t what? Allow me to drive an unsafe vehicle?”

Staring into Henry’s eyes, I only saw bewilderment. He couldn’t understand why I would care so much. If I were honest, I would tell him I didn’t know why either. Something about him just reached me on an elemental level. Without thinking, I simply reacted to him. I wanted to fulfill all his needs, even the ones he didn’t realized he had. “Yes, that’s why I decided to replace all four tires. I didn’t know how often you drove Jessie’s car, and I didn’t like the idea of you becoming stranded someplace.”

“I’m not a pitiful child, Ez—Professor Meyer.”

Leaning forward, I placed my elbows on my desk. “Of course not.”

“Despite how I appeared to you this week, I can take care of myself.”

I tilted my head to the side and studied the scowl on his face. “But do you like it?”

Henry’s brow furrowed. “Excuse me? Do I like taking care of myself? As opposed to what? Having someone else tell me where I need to be every second of the day? Listening to what other people think I should do with my life instead of what I want to do with it?” His voice rose in agitation with every question he asked. “My life might be a bit chaotic right now, but I’m living it my way. I cannot afford to slow down or slack off. I need to find a way to build up my stamina to fuel my mind and body. You said you have some ideas.” He opened the binder he was using as a planner. He grabbed the tab marked “June” and opened his planner to reveal a monthly calendar layout. He turned to the next page that read: Goals and Objectives. Taped to the middle of the page was a blue envelope with my name on it. Henry untaped it from the paper and slid it across the desk to me. “That’s Jess’s handwriting. I wasn’t aware she’d put it in my planner.”

I picked it up from my desk and playfully held it to my ear. “Should I be worried?”

Henry shrugged. “She likes you.”

I opened the envelope and pulled out the folded note inside it. The unlined, cream paper had flowers and butterflies in the four corners connected by whimsical vines. The colors were bold and beautiful like the person who wrote the note.

Ezra,

I want to thank you for your kindness. I know you bought the new tires because you were worried about Henry’s safety, which makes your thoughtfulness even more special to me. He’s such a beautiful person, but you already know that.

I don’t have a lot of money, but I insist on paying you back. I knew you wouldn’t tell me the debt I owed you, so I called a buddy who’s a mechanic. He told me the tires you put on my car cost around $500 without labor. I wrote you a check for $100. I will pay the rest as soon as I can.

Jessie

P.S. The threat still stands. I will break your face if you hurt my Henry.

I smiled and put the note back inside the envelope then set it inside my top desk drawer. I was eager to know how the two met, but I wouldn’t ask. “She’s a spitfire.”

“Are you going to tell me what she said?” Henry asked.

“Was the envelope addressed to you?” I countered.

Henry glared at me. “No.”

“Then, no, I’m not going to share the details of our private correspondence.”

Henry retrieved a pen from his backpack and said, “I’m ready to get down to business then.”

I bit my bottom lip when it threatened to curve into a smile. “The first thing I want to address is the one weighing heaviest on your mind, and that’s paying for school. I assume you’ve taken out some federal loans to help you cover the cost of your summer classes.” Henry nodded. I slid a piece of paper across my desk.

He picked it up and looked at it. “What’s this?”

“I comprised a list of options you can look into for your fall semester. Some of them are work programs that pay toward your tuition, some are renewable scholarships, and others are grants.”

Henry frowned. “I already work two jobs and don’t have time to work another one. I doubt my grades are good enough for scholarships, and there are others who need the grants more than I do.”

Henry’s dismissive attitude and negativity irked me. “Working at the university would take the place of one or both of your other jobs. How do you know you’re not eligible for scholarships or deserve the grants without looking into the programs?”

Henry studied the paper without meeting my glance. “I don’t, I guess.” After a few seconds, he lifted his gaze and offered a wry smile. “I guess it doesn’t hurt to try.”

I nodded. “That’s much better.”

“What kind of jobs does the university offer?”