“Penn sent me a letter this morning.” He pauses. “They’ve kicked me out.”
“What? They can’t kick you out. You haven’t done anything wrong. We’ll go to the Dean?—”
“Lily, I haven’t gone to half my classes. I’ve failed almost every one. I have a one-point-something GPA. They can kick out people that don’t meet their academic standards. They warned me last year, and I didn’t give a shit.”
“What?” I squeak. I knew something was wrong, but I thought he had been pulling better grades thanmeat least. “So…so you’ll go to Princeton with me. You can transfer. They’ll let you in with your last name.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “No, I’m not going back to college. It’s not for me, Lil.”
I process this. “So what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know,” Lo says. “How about get healthy first?”
“That works,” I murmur. “What about your father? Lo, if he finds out, he’ll take away your trust fund.”
“He won’t find out. I’ve already called admissions and told them not to contact him.”
I exhale in relief.
The car rolls to the curb. “We’ve arrived, Mr. Hale.”
I stiffen. That voice—that voice did not belong to Nola.
The driver shifts slightly, and I see the gray whiskers, feather hair, and glasses perched on a beak nose.
“Anderson,” Lo says tensely. Anderson, Jonathan Hale’s driver, the guy who has been known to rat us out. “Please don’t tell my father…”
“Have a nice night,” Anderson says with a fake smile. He spins back to the front, waiting for us to leave.
We do, and in my heart, I know that everything is about to change.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
After a short conversation,we agree to spend the night apart. I stay with Rose at the Drake, and Ryke takes Lo to his apartment on campus. I only learn that his father calls him in the morning because Rose relays the information.
He gave him the ultimatum we avoided and feared our whole lives. Go back to college, set your life straight, or else your trust fund will disappear. Months ago, Lo’s choice may have been different. He may have opted for college, transferring to Princeton or Penn State, going back into a familiar routine in a new setting. But I think we both realize that some things are worth more than a fancy lifestyle and padded wallet.
At breakfast, while I pick at a bowl of oatmeal in the living room, I’m not surprised when Rose tells me that Lo stepped away from the money. She says it’s the most heroic thing he’s done in his life. The irony is that he’s not saving some damsel in a castle, he’s not rescuing a baby from a burning building—he’s helping himself. Maybe a little bit to save our relationship, but mostly, for him. And that’s the best reason there is. Beneath my fear, I am so, so proud.
In a few days, I’ll need to find the same bravery.
My sister sets a hand on my shoulder. “He’s coming over to grab some of his things. They’re leaving at noon.”
Pressure sits heavy on my chest, but I nod anyway. We also agreed that he should go to rehab as soon as possible. We’re afraid we’ll change our minds, that we’ll convince each other it’s not the right step and that we can work it out together. We can’t. We’ve tried that, and it ended with Lo drinking tequila in a hotel room and me, pulling him against my body.
Rose scoots next to me, and I make room for her on the couch. “How are you doing?” she asks, gathering my short hair and braiding the strands.
I shake my head. I have no words. In one night, Lo lost his trust fund, learned his father lied to him, and that he has a brother. We’re so connected, that I feel the hurt from the deception as if it was my own.
How could Jonathan lie to Lo for so long? I want to despise him for holding the truth, and yet, I can’t. He loves Lo. More than anyone will admit. He loves him so much that he decided to raise Lo instead of abandon him. He fears the thought of Lo going off to rehab, of learning that he failed as a father and that his son may move on without him. I think there’s a part in Jonathan that believes Lo will return home for money, that he’ll come back to him when he realizes the hardship of the working class. Maybe Lo will. Or maybe he’ll finally say goodbye to his father and never turn back.
“It’ll be hard at first,” Rose tells me, tying off my braid. “When’s the longest you’ve been away from him?”
I shake my head again. “I don’t know…a week, maybe.” It seems completely absurd, but it’s true. It’s like we’ve been married our whole lives, and now we have to separate. I know it’s for the best, but the hurt still festers like a new wound.
Rose rubs my back, and I spin to face her fully. She looks at me with more concern than I thought possible. In the end, it was not a boy who helped me.
It was my sister.
