“Sorry.” I take a deep breath. “It’s nothing.”
Gracie continues to dress, throwing on leggings, a T-shirt, and crew socks. “Bullshit.”
She lets her sock snap into place, the sound of the elastic hitting her leg sounding off through the room. She turns on her heel and saunters in my direction.
“You come in here every other day ranting about the boys. Stayed out later than usual last night. Skipped class today, which is hella sus considering you’re probably the only person I know that actually enjoys learning. And don’t think I forgot about Alex getting between you and Aaron minutes before decking him in the jaw.”
I open my mouth to respond, but the words never come.
“You’ve been staring at those pages all day, and please don’t think you’re hiding that massive hickey on your neck.” Gracie points at the spot where Alex marked me.
Nervously, I lift my shoulder and pull my collar up as if it will actually hide the damn thing. Gracie sits at the edge of my bed, one leg folded under her. Tilting her head, she reads one of the pages.
“Who’s Miranda?”
My shoulders slump, and something in me caves.
“My mom.”
Gracie snaps her gaze to me, but she doesn’t say anythingright away. She only looks at me in that patient way that she does when she knows I’m trying not to spiral.
I pick at the corner of the page, nails catching on the edge like I’m trying to peel away the truth. “Apparently, she was a student here,” I murmur. “I didn’t know. All the years we talked about college, and how much fun it can be, and she never mentioned that she went here.”
Gracie shifts slightly but still doesn’t interrupt.
“There was no diploma lying around, no photos from her time here, nothing. But then I found this last night and nothing makes sense.” I huff, toss the transcript down, and pull one leg close. To anchor myself, to keep from feeling like I’m living in the matrix, I scratch my nails over my ankle hard enough to feel but not enough to break skin.
“Where did you get this?” she finally asks while picking up one of the pages.
I pause, then exhale slowly, debating whether or not to share. Not because I don’t trust her. She’s probably the only person at this school that I feel safe enough to open up to. It’s just that so much has happened since stepping foot on this campus. Things that bring more questions than I am able to answer, not without pissing some people off.
But if I keep it bottled in, it’ll fester and eat me from the inside out. It’ll drive me crazy, until I don’t know where the truth ends and the lie begins. I can trust Gracie. Right? I read her for a moment, taking in her features. They’re soft as always, concern evident in the worry lines above her brow.
“You have to promise not to freak out.”
Gracie cocks a brow, jutting her head back just a little. “That’s never a good sign.”
I lean back against the wooden headboard, bringing my knees to my chest. “Alex and I…”
“Fucked,” she blurts.
I frown and shake my head. “Eww, no—well, not exactly. He did give me this hickey but that’s beside the point.”
“Okay,” she drags out while repositioning herself so that she is fully seated, crisscross applesauce, at the foot of my bed.
“We broke into the admin building.”
Her head jerks back. “Youwhat?”
“You’re freaking out,” I hiss.
Her eyes are wide now, but there’s more curiosity than judgment. “No. I’m just shocked. But I’m listening.”
I release a breath. “My acceptance here is suspicious. Nothing was making sense, and I needed answers.”
“What do you mean?” Gracie swallows hard, the bob of her throat visible as she shifts uncomfortably, much like she does wherever Christina or the guys are concerned.
“I was previously rejected. Which was fine. People get denied their dream school all the time. But then a year later, I received an out-of-the-blue acceptance and a scholarship.”
