“Charlottesville?” I asked. “What’s in Charlottesville?”
“UVA.”
I raised an eyebrow. “UVA?”
Charlie shrugged. “Luke wants to visit.”
I smiled, and launched into my version of theGilmore Girlstheme song: “And where Luke leads, you will follow…”
“Dear god, Sage…”
“…anywhere…”
Charlie groaned and pulled down the brim of his cowboy hat. I resisted the urge to ask him about college, assuming he was still choosing a school. He’d mentioned nothing about his ED choice, so something told me it hadn’t worked out. I didn’t want to rub salt in the wound.
“How do you plan on pulling this off?” I asked, since leaving campus was far from a piece of cake. If we weren’t just going into town, Bexley housemasters required permission from parents before allowing us to go anywhere.
“Simple,” Charlie replied. “[email protected].”
“But of course!” I exclaimed. [email protected] was Mr. Carmichael’s secondary email account. Apparently, he’d created it a few years ago, saying that he wanted to “separate” work stuff from home stuff, but ended up neglecting it completely. However, it took less than three seconds for Charlie to hack into the account—Mr. Carmichael was notorious for using the same password foreverything—and he proceeded to take full advantage of it whenever a situation arose. He’d given himself countless permissions.
“So basically, the school thinks I’m going home for the weekend, and that…” He trailed off, plastering on a smile. “Oh hey, you two.”
I turned to see Nick and Emma—in their own flannels and cowboy hats, with Nick also wearing a gold sheriff’s badge—approaching us. Emma was smiling brightly, but Nick looked stressed, rubbing his forehead.
“Do you want to get a drink, Emma?” Charlie asked after a few minutes of mechanical bull chitchat. He gestured his empty root beer toward the saloon. Once they were gone, Nick’s tense shoulders unwound.
“So…” he said. “Skiing this weekend, right?”
“Yup.” I nodded. “Cross your fingers it doesn’t rain.”
Nick chuckled and held up a finger-crossed hand.
“What are you doing this weekend?” I asked, even though I already knew. Staying here.
“Oh.” He rolled his eyes, but I detected a slight smile. “Charlie’s put me on dispatch. I’m fielding any parental calls while he and Morrissey go off the grid.”
I laughed. “You’re a wonderful brother.”
Nick reached up and ran his fingers through his hair. “I almost wish I could go with them, though.” He coughed. “I mean, not really. Because obviously they’ll be…uh…”
“You’d be third-wheeling so hard.” I smiled.
“Yeah,” he sighed. “I just don’t want to be here.”
“So come skiing,” I blurted, heart suddenly fluttering. “Come to the Poconos. My mom won’t mind. She has your garage code, to get your stuff…”
Nick shook his head. “Sage, I can’t,” he whispered, stepping closer. “I have to stay here.” He nodded at Charlie and Emma, returning with sodas. “I need to do something here.” He glanced at the floor, then looked back up so we made eye contact. His were so very blue.
Hope sparked. He was going to do it; he was going to break up with Emma. I reached for his hand. Not to hold, but to squeeze in support. My feelings aside, I would always support Nick.
“Okay, guys,” Emma said as I snatched my hand away from her boyfriend. “Charlie hasofficiallychallenged the bull. He’s up in a couple of rounds.”
“She speaks the truth,” Charlie confirmed. He began rolling up his sleeves. “Wish me luck.”
“I hope you get knocked all the way into next week,” Nick said blankly.
I nodded, a swirling in my stomach. “Or the week after.”
