I nod, recalling his pledge about actions speaking louder than words. I stop bobbing my head when the logo on the envelopes he’s holding register as familiar. It’s the logo of Browns University, Brandon’s and my university of choice. We had been accepted to study there before we had commenced our final year of high school but had to turn it down since my parents couldn’t afford the excessive holding fee they requested.
We submitted again with the hope of a scholarship, but we never heard back from them. My dad believed we were being punished for turning down the first acceptance. Since I agreed with him, Brandon and I submitted a handful of applications to other universities, which were accepted, but we’ve been holding out on organizing living arrangements at our second pick, hopeful the admittance clerks at Browns would eventually forgive us.
Although I don’t want to get my hopes up, any news from them is good news as far as I’m concerned. If they decline our applications, we’ll move onto our next pick. If they approve it, this could be a game-changer for Brandon and me.
“Did you open it?”
Brandon plops his backside onto my bed before shaking his head. “No. I wanted to wait for you.” He hands me the envelope with my name on it before lowering his eyes to the one he’s clutching for dear life. “Do you want to go first or shall I?”
His eyes lock with mine when I reply, “How about we do it at the same time?”
When he nods, I get ready to pull on the open tab. I’ve barely slid my thumb under the flimsy cardboard when Brandon places his hand over mine. “No matter what these applications say, nothing changes for us. We are still us, okay?”
I nod in agreement without pause for thought. I waited over a decade for him to make his second move, so I’m more than capable of waiting another four years.
“Okay. On the count of three.” He exhales his nerves with a big breath before saying, “One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Three—”
The final Mississippi has barely left his mouth when I rip the tab across the envelope and tear out the single sheet of paper inside.
My eyes go crazy seeking any words along the lines of ‘congratulations,’ ‘we’re pleased to’ or ‘invited.’
All I find is a ‘we regret to inform you…’
With my heart in my throat, I raise my eyes to Brandon. His cheeks are flushed, that’s nothing out of the ordinary, he blushes all the time, but his smile sure is. It’s one of pure exhilaration.
“You got in.”
“Yes!” He nods his head in quick concession. “I got in…” The excitement on his face fades when he notices the glum expression on mine. I’m excited for him, but I’m also terrified about where we go from here. “You didn’t get in?” When I shake my head, he snatches the paper out of my hand, certain I read the results wrong. “You had to get in. You are smarter than me.”
“Clearly not.” I give myself a stern warning to wipe the disappointment from my eyes. Brandon worked hard for this. He deserves both this and my praise. “But you did. I’m so proud of you, BJ—”
My hands freeze midair when he says, “I will turn it down.” I watch him with my mouth hanging open when he stands from the bed, scrunches up his acceptance along with my rejection, dumps them into the bin under my desk, then spins around to face me. “We will go to our second choice. It is a good school—”
“It isn’t Browns, BJ. It is the best school in the state.”
He shrugs like it isn’t a big deal he’s giving up his dreams for me. “I don’t care. I am studying forensic science. I don’t need to go to a $70,000 a year school for that.”
His attitude takes a step back when I reply, “Brandon, you need to think about this.” I’m not overly angry at him, but I’m mad he can’t put himself first for a change. For years, he did everything and anything my father asked of him. He did drills designed for men even though he was only a child, dangerous covert operations, and sat through psych exams for years, so if anyone deserves to sit back for just a tick and be selfish, it’s him. “I want you to go to Browns.”
He instantly shakes his head. “No, Melody. We agreed to attend the same school when we convinced your parents not to homeschool you anymore.”
“That was in grade two, BJ. It wasn't meant to extend this far.”
Ignoring his shaking head telling me nothing will change his mind no matter what I say, I dig out the applications with the ‘acceptance’ words I was seeking earlier. I rarely left Saugerties, so my geographical knowledge isn’t the best, but I do recall Brandon jotting the distance of each approved application from Browns, so if a mid-degree transfer were ever approved, we wouldn’t have far to travel.
Once I have my bearings right, I shift on my feet to face Brandon. “I will go to Dartmore while you go to Browns. It is only an hour away. It is practically the same campus.”
His facial expression is worse than the one he was wearing when he crawled under my bed for the final time two months ago. “An hour! That isn’t close, Melody.”
“You are only saying that because you are used to having me right here. An hour is nothing for normal people.” When his lips twitch, I hit him with a stern glare. “If you say we are not normal, I will hurt you.”
My warning softens the harshness tainting his boyishly handsome face. “If I say it while I have my hands down your pants, will that save me?”
“No.” It’s the fight of my life not to squirm. Between grief, our move, and life in general, we haven’t been intimate since the first night. It kind of makes me scared. Like I’ll have to go through that horrendous virginity popping all over again.
I decide it will be worth the sacrifice when Brandon tugs me closer to him. He kisses my temple, my cheek, and my lips before inching back. “We will go to Dartmore together like we planned.”
“When we were five.”
