I ruffle his hair, trying to keep things light even though I feel anything but. “I’ll see you Monday. Have fun tomorrow.”
“Text me so I know you made it okay!” Sloane calls as I head out.
Shrouded in darkness, I walk down Saffron Lane and let myself cry.
If only I could listmessing up friendshipsunder the skills section of my résumé.
My overnight bag is packed and ready to go by the next afternoon. I’ve printed out my résumé and steamed the perfect grayVeronica Beard pantsuit for my meeting—this time I’m leaving the Ellis originals out of it and wearing a crisp Theory button-down. I stayed up late studying potential admissions questions and preparing answers even though I know this isn’t an interview.
I’m going to make Dad proud and hopefully secure my place at Columbia.
The bus leaves in an hour, so I lug everything downstairs, ready to go. But instead of Sloane waiting in the living room to drive me to the bus station, Mom is there.
“Can we talk?” she asks.
I set my bag down. “Okay…”
“I think you’re making a mistake,” she says bluntly.
“What are you talking about?” I ask. “How is a college meeting a mistake?”
“It’s not. But skipping this dance is.”
“God, what is with everyone and this dance?” I groan.
“I don’t want you to regret missing it.”
“Uh, I’d be far more worried about missing an opportunity to meet with Columbia admissions because I went to a high school dance,” I tell her.
“I can call your dad and have him talk to his friend about resched—”
“Don’t you dare, Mom. I’m going to this meeting. You already forced me to come here. I refuse to let you take away every shot I have at getting into this school. Just stop it. I’m going.”
Mom stands. “Fine. It’s your life. But I’m telling you, it’s a mistake.”
“It’s my mistake to make.” I grab my bag and head out to the car, where Sloane is already waiting.
“Ready?” she asks.
I get in the car, and we drive to the bus station.
She doesn’t say anything about me skipping the dance. She doesn’t mention me bailing on Jake. But she doesn’t need to. I know my cousin is thinking exactly what everyone else is thinking.
Chapter Eighteen
My whole body is practically vibrating with anticipation as I wait at the bus station.
I finally get to see Dad, and my bedroom with my king-sized bed, and Fern, who I texted on my way here to make sure she was free for breakfast tomorrow before I have to head back to Bramble Falls.
Last night may have sucked, but I’m finally goinghome.
Five minutes before the bus is supposed to arrive, my phone dings.
Pen Thief Jake:hope you have fun in nyc tonight. Gotta tell you tho, you’re missing out
A second message comes with a photo of him dressed in his suit, his phone pointed at the mirror and a cute little smirk on his face.
I laugh despite the pang of guilt that snaps me like a rubber band.
