She grabs it, bites into it, then swallows. “Because I want to focus on myself. Which is why I broke up with Ryan. He wanted the same thing.” She sighs.
“Fox is a good guy,” I inform her.
She nods. “Do you feel so drawn to someone you can’t explain it? That’s how it feels with Fox, and I know men like him—he’s going to break my heart. And you need to watch your back with Viper. He’s going to break your heart because it’s what they do.” She folds her arms across her chest and stares out the window, watching the rain pitter-patter onto the concrete as people walk by with their umbrellas.
That doubt always creeps inside of my head as if this is too much, and maybe she’s right. Maybe things don’t last long. My aunt didn’t send me all the way to New York to find love; she made sure I came out here so I could make something of myself and get out of poverty and make her proud. And I know Viper would never stop me from being successful, but I need to keep focused because deep down inside, I know Raven is probably right. But I’m not going to give up, even though every fiber in my body is telling me to give up.
“You’re wrong,” I say. “I think you’re missing out on love. And if you keep pushing people away, you’re going to live a lonely life.”
She holds her head up high. “I’m sure I will, and I don’t care.”
Later that day, the sun peeks between the skyscrapers, and birds chirp in the distance as Viper and I lie on the lounge chair on the balcony. He plays with the hem of my dress as I read a chapter about Greek mythology. I learn about the love story between Hades and Persephone.
Once I flip the crisp page, Viper snatches the book from my hand and sets it next to him.
“I have a surprise for you,” he says, standing up and grabbing me by the hand.
“What is it?”
“It’s a surprise. Close your eyes,” Viper says with his hands on his hips.
I cock my eyebrow. “Why?”
“Just do it.”
I do what he says and close my eyes. He grips my hand, and I follow as he leads me. I hear a door shut.
“Keep them closed.”
My anxiety grows like crazy, like a weed. My heart beats wildly and freely.
“Open them, angel.”
My lids flutter open, and my jaw drops as I stare around the room. He’s replaced the furniture in the game room with a wooden desk and a laptop, an empty bookshelf, and a recording table to record my podcast. It’s the latest model, and it had to have cost thousands of dollars.
“Your recording booth to do your podcast,” his voice booms. “A laptop for you to start your first semester. Your laptop is old, so I thought I’d replace it. This is your own room to study or read or record your podcast.”
I wrap my arms around his shoulder, stand on my tippy-toes, and plant a kiss on his nose.
“Thank you so much. No one has ever invested in me the way you do, supported my dreams.”
“No problem, angel.” He gives me a kiss on the cheek.
I release him and press the buttons on the recording table. He hands me an envelope.
“What is this?”
“Your letter for New York University.”
I tear the letter open, and it says I was accepted into the psychology program.
“Did you know I was going to get accepted?”
“Of course. You’re smart,” he tells me. “I’m so proud of you. We’re going to dinner to celebrate. Go get dressed.”
Sadness takes over my face, and pain clouds my chest.
“What’s wrong, angel?”
