–Griffin: She won’t answer. Athena never does.
Griffin knows my mom well. She doesn’t bother unless she wants something in return. Forwarding this video to her won’t cut it.
–Sebastian: I hate it that nobody has any answers!
Ask and you shall receive!
–Me: I’m fine.
–Nicholas: Seriously? That fall looked pretty bad.
–Noah: You don’t have to lie.
–Emmett: How hurt are you? Are you in the hospital?
–Me: I’m fine. Nothing’s broken. No concussion, just sore. The doc forced me to take muscle relaxants, but I think he went overboard. I feel great.
–Huxley: He probably fed you morphine.
–Emmett: You didn’t drive yourself, did you?
Emmett knows me pretty well.
–Me: I’m a responsible human being. I had somebody drive me back to my dorm.
–Emmett: Good.
Of course, if Aspenhadn’tdriven me, I would absolutely have gotten behind the wheel of my Maserati. But I don’t need a lecture from anyone.
–Me: Anyway, I’m fine. Quit worrying.
I toss the phone on the bed and get dressed, then open my laptop. It’s barely five, which means I have about three hours to kill before Aspen comes over. I should use the time productively and wrap up the transfer applications. All I need are some finishing touches, so there’s absolutely no reason for them to reject me.
As I review the one for Harvard, my mind wanders briefly to what Will said when he saw me fill out the app last week.
“You really think you can get into Harvard?” He looked like he couldn’t believe my audacity.
“Not just Harvard, but Stanford, Brown and Yale, too.” I didn’t list all the Ivy League schools. No need to have him faint. Given his lack of respect for personal space, he’d fall on me.
“Damn. If I got into any of them, my dad would give me anything I wanted.”
“Get your grades up and try. You might surprise yourself. And your father.” I gave him a pat smile, knowing he wouldn’t. He’s obsessed with Sadie—or the blowjob he can get from her—and won’t bother with anything else.
I submit all the transfer applications, along with the fees, then text Mom.
–Me: Any progress on a place for me?
She probably won’t respond anytime soon, so I drop the phone on the couch next to my laptop, go to the kitchen and grab the huge tub of pistachio ice cream. It’s Heath’s favorite, so of course I take it instead of the chocolate ice cream Will bought for himself. The asshole thought nothing of grabbing Aspen, so this small payback is the least I can do. It’s too bad he doesn’t play polo—I’d trample him with Starfire.
I return to the couch with the ice cream and start digging in. There’s nothing exciting on Netflix or TV. It’s like the world wants to punish me for having finished all my work early.
Normally I don’t mind being alone, but right at the moment, the quiet is annoying. I wish Aspen were here. I want to hear her bossy voice. Then I want to feel her against me. Taste her. Smell her.
She’s a billion times better than this lousy ice cream. Tastes better, too.
My phone pings. I look down, wondering if it’s one of my brothers again, but it’s Mom.
–Mom: Patience. Acceptable places don’t just magically fall from the sky.
