Can I Lean On You | Finley & Harlyn #2

Chapter 26

Finley

When my phone buzzes on my nightstand, my sleepy brain thinks it's my alarm. And when I grab it to turn it off, I stare at the screen looking for the stop button for far too long before realizing it's a call. I blink a few times and sit up, trying to process the name on the screen.

Bridget. Bridget is calling me. At one am. Well, one am my time. I glance at Harlyn still soundly asleep next to me and then swipe to answer the call.

"Bridg?" I croak.

"Fin?" She sniffs deeply, and more of my senses come back online. "Shit, it's super early there. I'm so sorry."

"Are you crying?"

She clears her throat. "No, it's - I'm fine. I'm sorry. I'll let you sleep."

"No, it's alright. I'm awake. What's wrong?" A million worst case scenarios are running through my brain. Did someone die? Is someone in the hospital? Is she in the hospital? What is going on?

"Um. Just...crappy night, I guess."

Harlyn stirs next to me and pats around until his hand collides with my hip. "Finley? Whas...What's going on?"

"Sorry, sweetheart. Go back to sleep." I slide out of bed and smile at his sleepy little "mmkay."

"Is, uh, are you with Harlyn?" This news seems to snap her out of whatever spiral she's on, at least partially. "Did you spend the night together?"

I grab an extra blanket and start down the stairs. "Not in the way you're thinking. But yes he did sleep over." I tiptoe past the girls' rooms, trying not to hit the creaky parts of the landing. "We can talk about that later. What happened tonight?"

She's quiet for a moment, and I'm wrapped up in my blanket on the couch when she speaks again. "I, uh, came home for Thanksgiving. Drove down this morning and helped Mom with some of the cooking and stuff. And it was mostly fine. It was weird without you, but it was kind of like when you were gone last semester, and it was just us. But...ok? And then...then we sat down to eat. And Dad asked about my grades and how school is going. And... I haven't been doing great."

"In school?" I ask. Bridget isn't a genius, but she's always done really well in school. She stumbled a few times in her first couple years of high school. But by the time she got to her junior year and started thinking about the future, she buckled down. "Is it that college is different? Harder?"

"Um..." She clears her throat. "Both, I guess. Classes are weird, and the grading is different, you know? Your whole grade is based on two papers. I'm not in class for as long, but the out of class work is more." She lets out a long sigh. "So, my grades haven't been fantastic. I'm not failing, but they're definitely not up to Dad's standards. So, of course, he blew up, told me that maybe I wasn't ready to be living on my own, that it's obviously because I'm going out partying and taking advantage of not having a curfew or adults around. And he threw in that that's why I still haven't chosen a major - because I just don't care."

Somewhere in the back of my brain, I know I should be annoyed that this is what she called me about, that after all this time of not talking, she calls to rant about our parents. But there's something so helpless and defeated in her voice I can't help but empathize. "I'm sorry, Bridg."

"The thing is -" she huffs a choked laugh, "- he couldn't be more wrong. My social life is practically nonexistent. Janet and I hang out - hard not to since we're roommates - but making friends in college is hard. At least, it's hard for me. I'm not having a hard time in classes because I'm out at parties every night. I'm just...struggling. It happens, right? I'm not...a failure? Or stupid?"