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“Great.” As if I’m not nervous enough, I’ll have to spend the entire evening dodging her blatant attempts to put me down. I still haven’t figured out what she meant during the skills tournament. Stupid cryptic bitch.
“Don’t let her intimidate you.”
“I won’t, but it’d be nice to attend a hockey event for once without dealing with her.”
“Right? I don’t know why she can’t read the room. None of the players want her around.” Maddy heads to the kitchen and stops by the hallway table. “Did you not see the mail I brought up?”
My head snaps in her direction. “Mail? No. I must not have heard you.”
I beeline over there. The air suddenly feels dense as my heart hammers. Alone on the table sits a thin white envelope.
“I’m sorry. I thought you heard me.” Maddy’s low murmur barely registers. My blood turns cold as my name stares back at me, penned with a formality.
“It’s probably nothing,” I try convincing myself, but the lie tastes bitter on my tongue. We both know what thin envelopes mean.
“Want me to…?” Maddy offers, her hand hanging between us.
I shake my head, a quick jerk, and reach out. My fingertips graze paper before recoiling as if scorched by the sting of potential disappointment. But I can’t look away—I can’t stop the gnawing fear that twists in my gut.
“Hey,” Maddy catches my eye, her voice softer now. “Whatever it is, you’ve got this.”
Do I, though? I’m not so sure. But fear won’t change what’s written inside that envelope. With a tentative grasp, I lift the edge, feeling the seal rip like pulling off a bandage, exposing whatever lies beneath.
I steady my breath as I unfold the letter, each crease releasing more of my pent-up hope.
I long to see “Congratulations,” but it’s not there. Instead, “We regret to inform you” looms before me, casting a dark shadow on the crisp white page. My heart sinks, along with my dreams.
“Fuck,” I murmur, the words barely a whisper. Maddy’s hand finds my shoulder, and I appreciate her attempt to console me.
“I’m sorry, babe. I know this isn’t what you wanted. You’re on a different path. That’s all.” Her eyes are earnest as she tries to infuse me with hope I can’t seem to grasp.
Different, sure. But this rejection echoes every doubt I’ve ever had. I grip the letter, the fibers protesting against my clenched hands. It’s not just a piece of paper; it seals my fate and determines the end of my time at Cessna U.
“Hey, it’s just one internship. There’ll be others,” Maddy says, brushing a stray lock from my face.
Will there, though?The question claws at me. The only one to accept me is three thousand miles away. Everything changes after this. Questions need answers. Should I stay here and take a chance on getting accepted without a prestigious internship, or should I take the sure thing in Boston? My mind spins, landing on Blake. His easy smile, his unwavering confidence. How can I let that go? Tears well up in my eyes.
“Hey, hey. None of that.” Maddy’s voice cuts through my mini freak out, her tone firm. “Don’t smear the makeup I spent the last hour on.”
I let out a trembling laugh and will the tears to stay away. “I can’t let Blake know about this yet. I don’t want to ruin tonight.” My voice falters. “He’s going to think I’m a failure.”
“Blake thinks you’re a freaking superhero, ‘Manda. Nothing changes that.” She’s right. But how long before the façade of the perfect fake girlfriend crumbles?
“Superhero without a cape or a clue,” I try to joke, but it falls flat.
“More like a lab coat and a stethoscope,” Maddy counters, but her smile fades as she sees the turmoil behind my eyes. “Hey, you’ll dazzle at the Gala. One step at a time, right?”
“Right,” I agree, still clutching the rejection letter. A knock ricochets through the apartment, causing my heart to flip. “I guess it’s time.”
“I’ll place this in your room.” Maddy takes the paper from me and slips away.
I smooth down the dress, a nervous tic, and open the door. Time halts. Blake stands there, looking sharp in a suit that seems tailor-made by angels if they moonlight as fashion designers. The jacket hugs his shoulders, a promise of the strength beneath. His tousled dark hair gives off that just-left-the-ice look, but those blue eyes, smoldering with something like desire, pin me in place.
“Wow,” he breathes out, and it feels like the entire room inhales with him.
Wow, indeed.
“Hi,” I manage, feeling heat creep into my cheeks. Excitement bubbles up, threatening to burst out in an undignified squeal. Blake steps in, and the scent of his cologne wraps around me, a heady blend of sandalwood and burning desire. Just Blake.
