First, her chin trembles, then one fat tear slides down her cheek, only to be followed by several more in rapid succession.
My chest clenches about as hard as my jaw. It takes a lot to bring my sister to tears—like losing our mother. Something major must have happened at school to make her want to quit, and my brain resembles a drop-down menu, imagining a list of worst-case scenarios with very specific and succinct responses.In other words, no one messes with my sister and gets away with it.
I rein in my gut reaction and crouch down in front of her, putting my hands on her knees. “Hey, it’s okay. Just tell me what happened.”
She wipes her eyes and sniffles. “I don’t think I’m good enough.”
I yank my head back in disbelief. “What are you talking about? Of course, you are. You got a partial scholarship to Columbia. If that’s not confirmation, then I don’t know what is.”
She shrugs and lifts her hands. “Then they made a mistake!”
I tuck my chin and take a breath, trying to keep my expression neutral. “Start at the beginning and tell me what happened.”
The door opens, and Sophie walks in. Her eyes widen at the site of us. “Oh, sorry.” She looks behind her as if to make sure she’s in the right place. “I didn’t know anyone was in here. Of course, how would I, since it’s my office. Do other people use it when I’m not here?” She lets out a soft giggle and holds her hands out. “That’s fine if they do. I was just curious. I mean, why not, right? It’s totally understandable?—”
Fighting a grin at how cute she looks, I rise, holding my hand up to stop her verbal vomit. “Sorry we invaded your space. We just needed a quiet place to talk.”
She bounces those gorgeous brown eyes between Kins and me. “Is this your sister?”
I nod. “Kins, this is Sophie Adams, the journalist I told you about.”
Sophie blinks at me and smiles. “How about I go grab a cup of coffee and come back later?”
Kinsley stands as well. “Wait. Maybe you can help.”
“Oh?”
Totally caught off guard, I glance between them to gauge the situation. “Kins, I don’t think she has time?—”
“Why not ask me first and find out?” The slight upward twitch of her brows feels like a challenge.
My sister smirks at me. “She probably would know better than a jock.”
I grunt.
Sophie lets out a soft giggle. “What is it you need help with?”
“One of my assignments. Write about someone who’s had the most impact on your life.”
“What are you studying?”
“Journalism.”
“Journalism?” Sophie snorts first, then laughs before shooting a scathing look at me. “Really, now?”
I must seem like a walking, talking hypocrite at the moment, but part of the reason Kinsley decided to use her love of writing this way was to offset the damage that rag reporter did to us. My sister is a modern-day Joan of Arc and always has been. Give the girl a cause, and she runs with it until she either wins or falls flat on her face—hard. That’s when I usually step in and pick up the pieces, which have been literal at times.
Let’s just say I’m glad her weapon of choice is a keyboard and not a sword.
Kinsley swings her attention between us with a confused expression. “Am I missing something here?”
Realizing I’ve lost control of this conversation, I run a hand across the back of my neck, trying to figure out what to say or do next.
Sophie approaches my sister. “No, not at all. What’s your question?”
I pause in mild shock. Sophie had a clean opportunity to expose me for being a hypocrite because my sister’s studying journalism, yet she didn’t.
Kinsley rummages in her backpack until she pulls out a paper and holds it out to Sophie. “He gave me a C minus, but I know this is some of my best work.” She hedges herhand back, seeming hesitant to share after all. “I thought I was good enough, but now I’m not so sure.”
