Page 158 of Lessons in Chemistry

“We wouldn’t all fit in here,” I say.

Casey scratches his jaw. “Would it even be legal? There are only two single bedrooms.”

“We couldn’t fit a double bed in either of them if we tried,” I agree.

“I love you both, but I don’t want to sleep three to a single bed every night,” Auggie says.

Casey laughs. “I don’t think any of us do.”

“We could move in with you,” I suggest. It seems like the obvious solution.

Auggie glares at the tiled floor.

“We’d pay your parents rent and cover our share of the bills. Assuming you do want to live with us. You might not.” My cheeks heat up as Auggie stays quiet.

“No.”

“No?” My stomach feels like I’ve gone down a roller coaster.

He pulls us to him and hugs us both. “I do want to move in with you, but you can’t move in with me.”

I frown. “Why not?”

He lets us go and rubs his arm. “Because right now, if I don’t live up to my parents’ expectations, I’m the only one they’ll punish. But if you lived in that house too, and they decided to kick us out because I don’t get the grades they want me to, we’d all be homeless. I can’t do that to you.”

“We could find somewhere else,” Casey says.

Auggie shakes his head. “How would I afford that? My allowance wasn’t enough to cover rent before Dad halved it. There’s no chance I could pay my way now.”

“You could take out a maintenance loan,” I suggest.

Auggie scoffs. “Those things are means tested based on your parents’ income. I wouldn’t get a penny.”

Casey rubs his thumb underneath his bottom lip. “If we’re paying rent and have a contract, your parents wouldn’t be able to kick us out.”

“They could still kick me out,” Auggie mutters.

“Do you think he would?” I ask.

He nods. “You don’t know my parents. Dad always gets his way, and Mum lets him get on with it. I told you I have to meet their unrealistic expectations, or they’ll expect me to go home and get a shitty job in Dad’s company. And you can say they can’t make me all you like. But if they take my home and my allowance away, what will I have left?”

“Us,” Casey says quietly.

“You wouldn’t be able to support me, and I wouldn’t ask you to.”

“It’s irrelevant. We’re not going to let it happen,” I say.

Auggie stares at me. “I’m not going to have a two-one average by the end of the academic year. Even if there’s a chance I could, are you willing to stake the roof over your head on it? I’m not.”

I lift my chin and fold my arms. “Yes. I believe in you. I know you can do it.”

“Your grades have already improved,” Casey says.

“And you have a term and a half left. You can do it, Auggie.”

He bows his head. “You’re sweet. You both are. But I can’t let you put your faith in me.”

“Why not?” I ask.