And his upcoming performance at the spring concert?
He hadn’t said one word about it. Every time I thought about Orion playing at that concert, a strange feeling filled my chest. Hard and heavy, like a boulder of words built from everything we couldn’t say. Everything wedidn’tsay about the future.Ourfuture, if we had one. I’d been too afraid of being hurt, and he’d been too afraid to step out of his family’s protective castle to consider something different for himself beyond this year.
We’re way past that. Aren’t we?
***
Friday afternoon, I was on my way to join Emery to watch the Head of the Bay Regatta, when I spied Ezra Wolfe walking to his car in the staff parking lot, adjacent to the marina.
“Professor Wolfe!” I called and hurried to catch up to him.
He stopped, his long black coat nearly brushing the ground. “Ah, Harper,” he said, smiling sadly. “How can I help you?”
“It’s been a shit sandwich of a week, but I got some good news and haven’t had a chance to tell anyone. But you’ve been really great this year, and so I want to tell you.” Of course, my stupid eyes had togo and tear up again. “Dammit. I swear I’ve cried more these last six months than I have my entire life.”
“I know the feeling.” Wolfe put a black-nailed hand over his chest. “I’d be honored to hear your good news, Ms. Bennett.”
“I got into NYU. I thought I’d have to win a certain science contest—and I do, because I desperately need the money—but, yeah. They accepted me. And if I say that one more time—accepted—I’m going to really cry.”
“You go right ahead,” Wolfe said. “I’ve heard it told that weeping happens when a soul feels an emotion that is too big for the body to contain. Congratulations, Ms. Bennett. I, for one, am not surprised in the least.”
I wiped the heel of my hand over my eyes. “Thank you for that. And for listening.” I heaved a breath. “Not going to the regatta?”
“No,” he said, strangely flat. “But tell our mutual friend good luck.”
I started to go when Wolfe stopped me.
“It’s interesting, isn’t it? Juilliard and NYU are both in Manhattan, a short subway ride away.”
“Yes,” I said slowly. “Why?”
“No reason,” he said grimly. “Except I’m a terrible person. I meddle and manipulate and stick my nose in where I shouldn’t because Icannotimagine that boy pushing numbers behind a desk when…” He bit off his words and shook his head. “Forgive me. Askhimto forgive me, and tell him that I was wrong. Tell him it’s never too late. Never.”
***
With Wolfe’s cryptic words ringing in my ears, I’d joined Emery Wallace on the bleachers, smashed in with the rest of the Academy, to watch the Head of the Bay Regatta. Colorful flags and banners decorated the marina, as our Royal Pride rowing crew took on three different schools in half a dozen different races.
We’d already watched the singles, twos, and the fours win their races, and now Xander and Orion’s race, the men’s eight, was underway.Emery had my arm in a death grip as we waited for the boats to come from around the Bend. Her cheeks were flushed and her blue-green eyes were sparkling.
“You look positively radiant,” I said. “What gives?”
“I didn’t get into Brown,” she said, not taking her eyes off the water. “Isn’t that great?”
“Uh, congrats? Wait, did your dad flip his lid?”
Her tyrannical father had been adamant Emery attend Brown when she wanted to go to a different school. Have a different life with Xander.
“That’s the best part,” she said. “He didn’t seem all that pissed. I think maybe he’s coming around.”
“Or he’s got a plan B. Em, are you sure—?”
“Here they come!”
The crowd on the bleachers got to its feet, cheering on their guys, while the teams on the dock pumped their fists for their boys.
Our boys wore black-and-gold unisuits and iridescent sunglasses, their bodies moving in perfect synchronized precision as they fought for dominance against two other schools. Emery’s eyes were glued to Xander, closest to Dean as coxswain. She was practically drooling.
“Girl…”
