Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 105815 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105815 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
“I’m out of here.” River brushes past us, and my eyes follow him over Donovan’s shoulders. His right hand taps his leg over and over. ADHD.
Or emotion? I wish I could see his face—
“Later,” Donovan tells him as his arms tighten around me.
The door slams as I call out a goodbye.
Donovan tugs me to the couch and sets me in his lap. My back presses to his chest, and when I try to pull away, he buries his face in my hair. “Just listen to me, okay? Hear me out. You’re hurt and angry. I would be too. I came in and acted self-righteous. Of course you’re your own person. I don’t like seeing you high because it’s bad for you.” He groans under his breath. “Fuck. I-I can’t believe I forgot. It was a tough weekend, horrible. I kept wishing you were there. My parents drove me crazy—” He stops and exhales a long breath.
“Over me,” I state.
He grows silent, the air thickening. He moves my hair to the side and presses a kiss to my shoulder. “Let’s not talk about them. Let’s talk about what a dick I am. Talking about getting into Harvard, asking for advice on neighborhoods—”
“I didn’t get in.”
He freezes, an incredulous sound in his tone. “What? When?”
I untangle his arms from around me, stand, and face him. “I knew last week. Columbia, Boston College, Boston University, Suffolk—they all rejected me. I don’t have a school next year.”
He rubs his eyes with the heels of his palms. “All of them? Why wouldn’t you tell me?”
I shrug.
“We can fix this. I’ll get my parents to talk to the dean of admissions…” He stops, frowning.
A wan smile crosses my face. “Your parents aren’t going to help me, and I don’t want them to. There are other universities. I haven’t heard from some of them, but I think Brooklyn Law will take me…” It’s the closest to Harvard, but still three hours away.
He grimaces. “Harvard is the best, Ana. It’s the volunteer stuff, the extracurriculars. If you could find some time to polish up your application—”
“It’s too late now. You know I work a lot of hours.”
He stands and tries to pull me into his arms, but I step away. “Ana. Come on.” He gives me a baleful look. “I can’t go to Brooklyn with you. You know that. Don’t blame me because you didn’t get into Harvard. If you’d let me help you with money, you wouldn’t have to work—”
“I’m not blaming you,” I say curtly.
And him give me money? Ha.
I carve my own way. Always have.
He checks his watch, smugness on his face. “Hey, it’s still your birthday so I didn’t entirely miss it. Let’s get out of here and go back to the house.”
Sounds so romantic.
“I need to study.”
“High?” His lips compress. “I’m not staying here. This place reeks.”
“Go home then,” I say as I step away and nod my head. “There’s the door.”
“Come with me.”
“I need to stay here in case Lila and Colette end up in the basement or at a tattoo parlor.” True.
He drops his hands. “Why can’t you give me some slack here? I’m sorry I forgot.”
“Oh, I’m being very understanding, Donovan.”
He narrows his eyes. “Are you? Really? You know how important this semester has been, the work I’ve done for the frat. My charity. My classes. I’m allowed to forget things.”
We’re going in circles. “It’s not just my birthday and you know it.”
His jaw pops.
“Did you talk to your parents about the holidays?”
An uneasy look flashes before he shuts it down. “No. I will. I promise.”
I inhale a sharp breath. I can feel his lie.
Why hasn’t he settled things with them?
He just saw them! Winter break is right around the corner!
“Don’t. I’m going skiing with Lila and Colette. We’ll fly back afterward, and I’ll stay in Ellijay with them for the holidays.” It’s better than spending Christmas alone in the apartment. I chew on my lip. Gah. June! I need to find her a home before I leave!
He fidgets, mulling my words over, then, “If that’s what you want to do, I’m cool.” He sighs. “Look, Ellijay isn’t far from Atlanta. It’s a redneck town with nothing to do, but I’ll drive to you. We’ll be together on Christmas and New Year’s. I can stay at a hotel. We’ll get a room.”
Of course he doesn’t want to stay with my friends, and technically, he hasn’t been invited to their house. Yeah, that wouldn’t go over well, but me and him, alone, with just each other in a hotel? Anxiety tugs at me. I don’t know. I mean, shouldn’t I want that? Somehow it feels…bleak. I guess it’s the distance we’ve had these past weeks. There’s an empty black pit in front of us, and it’s either fall in and lose each other or hold each other and jump over it.