To my surprise, a tear ran down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly and smiled. I reached for both her hands, which still felt so small in mine, just like that first day I’d held her. I’d never forget the day she was born and how she’d immediately felt like mine.
That was the feeling I got now.
“Don’t cry, sweetheart.”
“I’m sorry. I just never thought I’d hear you say that.”
“I’ve always been proud of you. I’m just happy you’ve achieved such a big accomplishment. I was never an A student.”
“Really?”
I mostly never talked about anything to do with me and school because aside from playing football, spending my days in the sea, and getting in trouble, I hadn’t done much.
“No, not by a long shot—not at all. In fact, I never had a hope in hell of going to college.”
“You wanted to join the Navy, though. It wasn’t like you didn’t have a plan. Then I came along and…you took care of me instead.”
I was beginning to feel like I’d walked onto the set ofThe Twilight Zone. This couldn’t be the same girl who’d smart-mouthed me only weeks before—or maybe I was still asleep. Then again, she’d been behaving similarly for weeks—ever since we’d known Brooke.
“I did.”
“Thank you, Dad.” She pulled in a little breath and smiled. Then she held up a letter that was next to the folder.
“What’s that?”
“My acceptance to Camp Hentaka as a counselor.” She beamed.
My eyes widened. “What?”
“Well, I want to build up my skills and test some stuff out. I applied to run a classical literature workshop there, and they were blown away by my article on Lord Byron and Romanticism.”
On who and what?I brought my hand to my chin and rubbed it over the stubble.
“Say that again.” I needed to hear it again because I couldn’t believe what she’d just said.
She pretended to pout and chuckled, shaking her head at me. “You heard me, Dad. So anyway, I wrote a ten-thousand-word piece on how Romantic authors like Byron were different than the authors who lived during the Post Romanticism era and were trying to hang on to life before the industrial revolution.”
My lips parted and I wanted to comment and say how good that was, but it wasn’t just good—it was phenomenal.
“I don’t know what to say first. Is that what you learned in school?” I didn’t recall going into such depth, not that I would have remembered if anyone asked.
“Some. We’re reading Lord Bryon and also Frankenstein. Byron and Mary Shelley knew each other. Brooke told me that and I was likeno way, and then she started telling me about Romanticism and oh my gosh Dad, post-romantic poetry—there are no words on earth to describe it. I’m hoping I can take a mini course online before camp so I can include it in the workshop.”
“Online course?” I narrowed my eyes and tilted my head to the side trying to assess her. Did she mean online like she’d have to study outside school? Her?
“Yes.” She started laughing like she could read my mind. “Yale does some online courses you can take over the summer, and if they accept you, it counts toward your credits, which means you wouldn’t have to work so hard.”
“Yale.” That was all I heard. Aria was talking about Yale.
“Yeah. The course is really good. I applied and Brooke gave me a recommendation because she’s on the honorary list of alumni. She also gave me a good list of books to get through to make sure my workshop’s a success, and she said it will help with my public speaking and I have a professional manner anyway. I want to sound like Julia Roberts when she accepted her Oscar for Erin Brockovich. Or, Halle Berry when she won hers for Monster’s Ball but less emotional.”
“Okay.” It was too much for my nerves, but it was so good, and I could have almost cried.
“So, is it okay for me to go to the camp? I was thinking I’d cut my visit to Aunt Freda short and go.”
The time had gone by so quickly. Only weeks before I’d been worried about prom, and now it was almost time for summer break. She normally went to spend a week with Freda, Olivia’s sister, in New York then came back home. We usually went on a separate trip with my parents and made the most of the time together.
“That would be fine.”
