“Of course, I’ll go to prom with you. Thank you.” She hugs my neck, pressing a lingering kiss to my cheek.
“For what? Asking you? Is it really that surprising I did?” I chuckle, loving the way her hips were arching into me.
Blair is still smelling her rose as she rests against me and I rest against her car. “No, but I’m glad you didn’t like, put me up in a hot air balloon or something. This was perfect.”
I pump a fist behind her back, like I just scored a goal or something. “Don’t I just know you so well?”
“Dude, kind of lame on the ask.” Glav shrugs his shoulders.
“I’m going to stand outside of Jacob’s window with a boom box and ask him,” Nate brags.
“Now that’s how you do a promposal.” Glav fist bumps our student class president. “See, Sawyer? You should have done something epic.”
“Shut up, Glavin.” Blair rolls her eyes.
Our two friends leave, and we’re still canoodling as the parking lot empties.
“I think my dad is consulting on a project in Princeton. He won’t be home for hours.” Blair’s shy but seductive gaze takes my pulse up a notch.
“Are you driving, or am I?”
I’m like a dog who was just told he’s being taken for a walk; way too excited and overly rambunctious. But what do you expect? My girlfriend just basically told me I’m getting laid.
“Follow me home, lover boy,” she singsongs, and then ducks into her car.
I keep my eyes planted on her driver’s window as she buckles in and then lays the rose across the dashboard above her steering wheel. She then has the audacity to wink at me before peeling out of the parking lot, the saucy minx.
I don’t think anyone has driven through Chester faster than I am this afternoon.
36
Blair
“There is a letter on the counter for you.”
Dad’s smile is ear to ear as I walk in the door from school. Instantly, my stomach drops to my feet, because I know what it is.
I’ve already gotten two other college letters in the mail, and they were both acceptances. They were fun to read, and exciting to know that I have a place somewhere if I need them as fallbacks, but I can tell by my father’s smile that this is the big one.
The letter from Brockden is here.
Sawyer’s face is the first thing that shoots through my mind, and I wonder if he’s arriving home to the same thing. But right now I need to take this moment for myself, because it’s a big one, and I’ve worked hard toward it.
Dad trails me as I make my way to the kitchen and spot a big envelope sitting there waiting for me.
“They don’t send big envelopes for rejections, right?” I say, so much hope spilling into my words.
“Just open it, kiddo,” Dad urges me, massaging one of my shoulders.
I take a deep breath as I set my backpack on the counter next to the letter and then pick it up with shaking hands. Whatever is inside of here determines my future. It determines whether I’ll get one of the best political science educations out there. It determines whether I can move on to the career I envision for myself. It determines if Sawyer and I get to adventure into our next chapter together.
My eyes flutter shut for a moment, and then I tear at the top with my pointer finger. I don’t think my heart is even beating as I take out the contents, a brochure falling to the ground.
We are pleased to inform you that you have been admitted to …
Those are the only words I need to read before I’m jumping up and down, shouting with joy, and then launching myself at Dad.
“I got in!” I yelp, hugging his neck.
“You got in!” Dad scoops me up in a bear hug, and a second later, I feel him heave a giant sob.
“Dad, are you crying?” I’m laughing, and find that my eyes are filled with tears, too.
He pulls back and holds me by the shoulders, examining my face and then the letter in my hand. “You and I will remember this moment forever. I’m so proud of you, Blair.”
“Aw, shucks, Dad. You’re going to make me cry more.” I shyly flutter my eyes down to the floor.
“You haven’t had the easiest childhood, and yet you’ve been the easiest child. You work so hard, are whip smart, and I’m constantly in awe of you. Out of all the daughters in the world, I got the best one. And now, you’re going off to achieve your dreams.”
He’s gushing, and I think for the hundred-thousandth time in my life how blessed I am to have the most incredible parent. I may not have two, but the one I do have is dedicated, supportive, and so loving.
As Dad hugs me, and I get a flash of myself on the Brockden campus as a college student, I search my heart. In the biggest moments of my life thus far, I’ve always wished my mom would be present. When I received National Honor Society status during my freshman year. When I won the state mock debate championship. When I flew to Haiti. I vividly remember feeling upset that my mom wasn’t there to witness those things alongside Dad and me.
Except, after Christmas and everything this year has brought, I can’t find one shred of me that misses her right now. This is going to be my next chapter, the one where I grow into the person I am meant to be. I feel it already, how this acceptance letter and what it means is allowing me to shed all of the hurt in my past.
Dad and I go on to read the letter together, where it states that not only have I been admitted to Brockden University, but that I will be a direct admission to the political science program. I know how hard I’ve worked over my high school career to get here, but I’m almost in disbelief that this moment is finally happening.
After the initial shock wears off, I pick up my phone and hit the second name and number in my favorites section.
“Hey, you. Miss me in the ten minutes we’ve been apart?” Sawyer’s voice is smooth and deep, and it never fails to send a flock of butterflies floating through me.
“Did you get your Brockden letter?” I don’t bother with pretenses.
“What?” His tone changes. “I just parked in my driveway, hold on.”
I’m all but biting my nails as I wait for Sawyer to get inside his house, the frantic sounds on the other end of the phone making me more anxious.
“Mom, did you get the mail?” I hear as Sawyer talks to his mom.
She must say yes, because a second later, his voice is fully back on the other end of the line. “Mine is here. Did you get in?”
“I got in!” I burst, the words exploding from my throat.
“B! Yes! So proud of you. Wow. I can’t believe the letters are here.” Sawyer seems to be stalling.
“Thanks. Now don’t make me wait another second. Open it, open it!” My nerves and excitement are making me act like a giddy school girl.
I hear tearing on the other end of the phone. “Give me a minute, jeez. You have the patience of a gnat. It’s a good thing you’re beautiful.”
Sawyer’s compliment makes me blush, even if he can’t see it. “What does it say?”
There is a beat of silence. And then another one. My heart wavers between sinking and flying, stuck in purgatory.
“Sawyer? Are you doing this on purpose? Don’t be an ass …” My nervous laugh invades my whole body.
I expect him to answer my tease in a second flat. Instead, I’m met with the beeping of the line going dead.
Dad is standing on the other side of the kitchen, pretending not to listen, but turns around when I set the phone down. “What did he say?”
“I think the line might have gone dead.” I say this, but in my heart I know it’s not true.
My suspicion is confirmed when I try to call him right back, and I’m sent directly to voicemail. My fingers fly to write a text message, asking him what’s going on and to please call me. It goes blue, meaning it’s delivered, but those three dots don’t appear. I wait a couple of minutes, and they still don’t pop up.
Which can only mean one thing.
Sawyer didn’t get into
Brockden.
All of the happiness deflates out of me like a busted balloon, and what should be the best of days just turned into the worst.
When I submitted the application initially, I thought I’d be getting away from everything I hated about Chester. But over time, it became a shared dream, one that Sawyer and I would embark on together.
That was dashed, and I am left feeling even more alone than I did when we were sworn enemies.
Ten minutes ago, the future was bright. Now, it seems we are back in the darkness that ruled over us for years.
37
Blair
Once Mallory texted me about what the entire Brockden letter contained, it made sense why Sawyer hung up on me.
Three hours after he abruptly shut down our phone call, I got in touch with his mother. He got into the university we both want to go to, but was wait-listed for the architecture program. For now, he’ll be admitted as a general studies student, and can work his way into the architecture program through grades, or if a spot opens up. It’s not the end of the world, most likely he’ll be accepted before freshman year even starts as the refusals roll in. But I know that for Sawyer, this is everything he feared.
I don’t even knock as I enter the Roarke home. Mallory pokes her head around the corner to see me coming through the front door and nods sagely toward the stairs to indicate where Sawyer is.
Taking them two at a time, I find the boy I’ve always loved in his room, face down on his bed. There is no way he doesn’t hear me enter, since his door is as creaky as a rusty swing at a playground, but he doesn’t flip over.
Gingerly, I walk to his bed and sit beside him, then put my hand on his lower back and begin to rub in soothing circles.
“Sawyer …” I don’t really know how to start.
There is nothing I can say that will make this better, and I don’t want to dole out tough love in this moment. Even though I know him as deeply as I know myself, this is uncharted territory. Sawyer is the town golden boy, by all standards, and he’s never really failed at … well, anything. There isn’t necessarily a reason he didn’t get in either; it’s not like he didn’t work hard for it, or he is unqualified for the program. Realistically, he was just outdone by another student and there were a ton of applicants to the architecture major.
But to Sawyer, this is a devastating blow. He’ll be looking for some way that he didn’t measure up. He already compares himself to his father and takes shit from his friends about settling for the family business. This will just be one more weight he adds upon his shoulders.
“Guess we both got in, huh?” Instead of sounding happy, my boyfriend sounds like someone just stuck a knife through his favorite soccer ball.
I try to infuse a note of cheeriness in my voice, but I’m pretty sure it comes off sounding super fake. “Yes! That’s it, look at the bright side of all this.”
He still won’t even look at me, so I’m not sure how I’m going to get him to look on the bright side. When he doesn’t respond for a few awkward minutes, I try a different tactic.
“Sawyer, this is good news. We’re going to be able to stay together, we won’t have to do long distance. This will all get worked out, you’ll get in to the program. But Brockden is a great choice either way, and we have so much to look forward to.”
“Right. What’s a dream when you can spend your college years with a ball and chain.” The words are knives and cut just as sharp at my heart.
I physically recoil, because this is not the boy who has held me so tenderly over the last six months. This is not the boy who stood on a table and publicly declared his love for me.
“Don’t talk to me like that,” I warn him, because we’re dangerously close to a point where either of us could say something we can’t take back.
“You don’t understand. Just … go, Blair.” He turns over, and the pouting is real.
Part of me wants to roll my eyes, and part of me feels genuinely crushed. We’ve been so good together, putting our past behind us and listening to one another. Even though there are arguments that could have been had, we avoided them or communicated. We’re in love and heading into our future together should be cause for celebration.
But this guy, the one sulking away from me, feels like the Sawyer of yesteryear. The one who shut himself off from me, who went out of his way to be cold.
So I have two choices: leave with my bruised heart and ego, just like I did when I found that pros and cons list once upon a time. Or I can stay and fight for us.
For a split second, I consider letting my insecurities and the pain that used to rule my actions control me. Leaving would be the easier choice, in some ways. I wouldn’t have to hear the acid dripping from his tongue. I wouldn’t have to be the strong one, the one who weathers the storm of his mood and takes the high road even when he tries to throw every iota of hurt at me. I wouldn’t have flashbacks to a time where he made me feel less than.
But if I leave, then I lose the boy I love. The person who knows me best in this world, the guy who always was and has become my everything again. I can’t walk away, because I’d just be breaking my own heart.
So he can try his damnedest, but I’m not going anywhere. Mentally, I buckle down.
I lie down, fitting my body around his as if I’m protecting him from anything coming for us. He doesn’t take the hand I wrap around his waist, but he doesn’t shrug away from me. Progress.
“Sawyer, whatever happens, we’re going to get through it together. We both wasted so much time, we let way too much hate invade our hearts. I know this is a blow, I know you’re upset, but don’t push me away. We’re going to figure this out, and I’m doing it by your side. You’re going to achieve every dream you have. And this sucks right now, I know it does. But it’s going to make you fight that much harder for what you want. It’s going to make you a better architect. I love you. Please, let’s not make the same mistake we did. I’m not leaving. And you’re not pushing me away.”
The silence grows, stretching until there are tears in my throat. I’m terrified that he’s going to end us on my next breath. I’m shaking at the thought that Sawyer is about to tell me to leave, that he doesn’t want to do this together.
After what feels like decades, I feel his fingers lace through mine, and I feel the air I was holding release from my lungs. In the next moment, he’s flipping over and wrapping himself around me, burying his face in my hair and pulling me into the embrace.
We stay that way for a while, not talking about the pain he’s feeling, but just being a comfort to each other. There may be no solution for now, and Sawyer might not be ready to talk, but I’m here for him. He’s letting me in.
That is leaps and bounds above the way we’ve treated each other in the past. And I know now that we’re going to be solid for a long time to come. No matter what dragons we face, we’re going to slay them together.
38
Sawyer
After college acceptances get delivered and everyone starts declaring their choices, the rest of senior year flies by in a millisecond.
Before I know it, we’re heading into the weekend before graduation. On Monday, we’ll put on our caps and gowns, walk onto the Chester High School football field, and say goodbye to our hometown for a while.
It’s bittersweet, but now that we all know where we’re going to land for our next chapter, it feels about time to wrap this one up. Well, that, and my friends and I can’t wait for the last summer months of freedom before real life sets in.
Getting wait-listed for the architecture program at Brockden has been a tough pill to swallow. Although I sent in my deposit to become a general studies student in the fall, and even though it means Blair and I will be attending the same college, it isn’t with the excitement I always envisioned.
But with each passing day I’m taking it a little better, and it helps that I have Blair to both give me pep talks and distract me. After all, she pointed out that we’ll have a lot of alone time in our
dorm rooms, and that has been a big thing to look forward to.
In the end, the senior class won Spirit Night, and the crowd went wild for mine and Blair’s botched tango. The night was bittersweet, since it was our last, but it was a celebration of everything our class had accomplished in our four years here.
Prom was fun; the dance itself was more a formality than anything. I ended up winning prom king, while Hailey won prom queen. But I went rogue and refused to do the king and queen dance, instead sweeping Blair onto the floor and pressing my cheek to hers as “Yellow” by Coldplay hummed over the floor. The rest of the weekend was the stuff memories are made of. We partied, did way too many stupid things with our friends, and spent a majority of the time in our room doing things only teenagers can do in a parent-free house.
And now graduation is upon us. In two days, Nate will stand up in front of the senior class and give his speech as our president. Then, Blair will follow, because as of last week, she was crowned our valedictorian.
There are about fifty kids in Matt’s basement, all in varying stages of drunkenness. Everyone has been cheersing all night, and there is talk of wrangling up some old textbooks and burning them in the fire pit in his backyard.
I’m sitting on the couch, a beer in my hand and my girlfriend in my lap. With an open mouth, I trace kisses up and down Blair’s bare shoulder, toying with the spaghetti strap that’s barely being held up there.
“I can’t believe we’re graduating.” Laura pouts into her red Solo cup. “High school has been such a blast.”
“Speak for yourself.” Blair snorts.
“No, she’s right. Have I peaked? Will I ever be this cool again?” Glavin ponders.
Matt smacks him in the shoulder. “Dude, you’re going to play D-one soccer, I think you’ll do just fine.”
My best friend grins. “Yeah, you’re right. If anything, college will just be more of this.”
Foes & Cons Page 18