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“No matter what happens…I just can’t stand to see you slip back into that life,” I explain gently. “Too much has happened for you to end up working in Jameson with a corrupt company the rest of your life.”
I want him to agree and reassure me, but instead he’s silent as he strokes my hair. I know that look on his face. It’s the same one that everyone’s been giving me lately, especially my mom and stepdad. The look that implies I’m holding too much of a grudge against Theo. But I can understand it from them. They don’t know him like I do. Emmett does though, which is exactly why he should be more adamant about refusing his proposal.
“Let’s get back inside,” he coaxes, nudging me towards the door. “Wherever we move to is sure to have a bowling alley and I want to show up looking like a seasoned pro.”
Referencing our planned move out of here should comfort me, but it feels half-hearted. I can see Emmett’s wheels turning and I’m terrified about just how seriously he’s considering this meeting with Theo. The thought twists in my gut, leaving me nauseous by the time I lay down for bed later that night.
This new bit of information put a dark cloud over the whole evening, prompting me to refuse Emmett’s invitation to his place after the bowling alley. Once again, something has killed our sex drive. I toss and turn on my pillow and get mad all over again. How could he say there was no good way to tell me about Theo’s proposition?
Your dad actually thought I would consider a job offer from him. Can you believe it!? Isn’t that absurd!? Unthinkable!? Completely out of the question!?
Followed by dismissive laughter and then a change in subject because the idea is too ludicrous
to even waste our breath on. That would have been a great way to bring it up. The fact that Emmett can’t see that only worries me more.
Believing that men like Theo and Thomas are the same...is that why it’s so hard for him to see my dad for what he really is? Is that why working for him seems like a logical option? Some of my biggest fears about Emmett come bubbling up to the surface once again. Is he a lost cause? Maybe being raised by that monster left him too damaged and fucked-up to ever really be able to live the kind of life we’ve been dreaming about.
Unable to sleep, Marissa’s diary calls to me once again. I roll over to my nightstand drawer as I flip the lamp switch.
Dear Diary,
As mortified as I was about this whole arrangement with the Jamesons, now I feel like the luckiest girl in the world. My parents were going to dictate who I married regardless. If it had to happen, I can’t believe I ended up liking the guy they picked for me. More than like. I think I am falling in love with him.
We spent the day with our parents going to lunch and then a show. But Thomas was so smooth and charming, he convinced them to let us sneak away afterward. We walked through the park hand in hand while he talked about all of his big plans for Jameson Automobiles. It was all so fascinating and Thomas knows when he takes over, he will do an even better job with it than his father.
His ideas are interesting, but his dreams for life are even better. The Jameson Manor is stunning and impressive, and Thomas talks about how he imagines raising a family there. Such a big beautiful house with all the finest foods and clothes. Not to mention vacations around the world. I always thought that the kind of life my parents envisioned for me would dull, but something about picturing it with Thomas by my side makes it incredible. Suddenly, I want it more than anything.
Just before we turned around to walk back home, Thomas pulled me off under some trees. He passionately pinned me to one of the trunks and kissed me. I have never felt anything like it. I melted into him completely and would have done absolutely anything he asked. I would have given myself over to him right then and there. But like a true gentleman, he pulled away and walked me home.
I can still taste him on my lips and smell the faintest trace of his scent lingering around my neck. It’s intoxicating. After our first couple of dates, I couldn’t stop daydreaming about prom. But now prom seems like a footnote. Now I spend all day fantasizing about being Mrs. Thomas Jameson. I’ve practically planned our whole wedding already and have even started picking out baby names.
Can I really be this lucky? Will this really be my life?
- Marissa
13
Chapter Thirteen
I race into my house with my hands full of mail, flinging my backpack to the corner of the room as I begin frantically shuffling through the envelopes. I’ve been watching the mailbox like a guard dog on high alert for the past week, knowing that acceptance letters and scholarship offers would soon arrive. They have finally started trickling in day by day.
I flip through each piece of mail, tossing bills and other things for my mom and Brendan onto our table by the front door. Once I have weeded out a total of five letters from colleges addressed to me, I run up the stairs to my room and lock the door.
I sit on the edge of the bed with my hands shaking as I run my thumbs across the envelopes, feeling the current of excitement surging through my veins. It’s possible that none of them have accepted me at all, much less extended a scholarship offer. But Coach Granger and even his new assistant, Jada, have assured me that’s unlikely.
Unable to stand it anymore, I start tearing into the first one at random. The first one I open is from the campus a couple of hours from here. The one where Theo had to rush in and save my ass with a copy of my birth certificate at the interview. It’s Coach Granger’s top pick, but it’s not as far away from Jameson as I would prefer. And it’s definitely too close to Theo.
The thought of distance makes me stop. I suddenly have an idea. I line the envelopes up across the bed, arranging them according to how far away from Jameson they are. I imagine them being like a map. A line across the country, each acceptance a pin signifying just how far away I can get.
I finish opening the first one with the nearest campus. Accepted. Full ride track scholarship. I pound my feet on the carpet in a little dance and squeal as I read the words. Placing it back down on the bed, I think: Okay. There it is. I know I can get at least two hours out of Jameson.
The next school in line is several states away down south and is the most prestigious institution I’ve applied to. I rip the envelope open and see another acceptance. I dance and squeal again, but quickly notice the letter doesn’t include any mention of a scholarship. It doesn’t mean one could not come later, but for now that pretty much rules it out. That’s okay. At least I know I got in, I think as I place the envelope back in line.
I reach for the next envelope, my heart already swelling with pride and accomplishment. This one is several more states away and even further down south. I read over the letter, now too impatient to take in each word as carefully as I did with the first two. Once again, accepted. Partial track scholarship. And this one is nearly 800 miles away.
The next letter offers another acceptance and scholarship, and it’s over 1,000 miles away. A full twenty-four hour’s drive. Then I come to the final envelope. The furthest campus all the way in Southern California. 3,000 miles from Jameson. My hands still shake as I rip it open, knowing it is my top pick, no matter how impractical it may be for me to dream of moving to the other side of the country.
But the moment I see the words of acceptance followed by yet another full-ride scholarship offer, something in my heart swells in a way it didn’t with the others. Almost as if I intuitively know this is the one I will choose even before I’ve had time to seriously consider it. The track team has an outstanding record, and like the school that’s two hours away, it has turned out a handful of Olympians. The campus and area around it are beautiful from what I’ve seen in photos. Beyond school, I can imagine weekend trips to the beach or trail running in the mountains. Shopping in the city and maybe even a local coaching gig when my own running career is no longer my main focus in life.
