Page 78 of Romeo

“Yeah.” I stared at the folded paper. “I guess it wasn’t good enough.”

Her arm tightened around me, but she didn’t immediately argue. That almost made it worse.

After a moment, she pulled out the chair beside mine and sat down. “You know you don’t need scholarships, right?”

I looked at her.

“I have money, Fiona.” Her voice was gentle but matter-of-fact. “More than enough to pay for college. Tuition, room and board, books—all of it. It wouldn’t be a burden. It wouldn’t even make a dent.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you doing this to yourself?” She covered my hand with hers. “Why are you putting so much pressure on yourself to earn something I’m happy to give you?”

Her hand was warm and weathered over mine. Strong. The same hand that had reached for me when almost nobody else had.

“Because I need to do this myself.”

“Sweetheart—”

“No, Granny. I need to.” My eyes burned when I looked at her. “My whole life, people have helped me. Rescued me. Taken care of me. Mrs. Gladys taught me to read. Frank and Claudia took Charlie. You gave me a home. Georgie protects me from everything.” My voice cracked, but I kept going. “Everyone has given me so much, and I’m grateful. God, I’m so grateful, but I need to do something on my own.”

Granny didn’t interrupt.

I looked down at our joined hands. “I spent my first night with Charlie in a shelter that smelled like bleach and desperation. And when I signed those adoption papers, I knew it was the right choice. I knew he deserved better than what I could give him.” I swallowed against the ache in my throat. “But knowing I made the right choice doesn’t make the fact that everyone else picked up the pieces for me hurt less.”

Granny started to say something, but I shook my head.

“I know what people see when they look at me. The girl who couldn’t—” The rest stuck in my throat, and I couldn’t force it out. I looked toward the rejection letter instead. “These scholarships are different. They’re something I have to earn.”

Maybe that was why each rejection hurt so much. Nobody could hand me one because they loved me or felt sorry for me. No judge could decide I deserved it because Granny promised to take care of me. A scholarship committee didn’t know the foster kid or the teenage mother. They only saw what I’d accomplished and decided whether it was enough.

I needed to be enough.

Granny squeezed my hand. “You’ve already proven what you can do, sweetheart.”

“Not to me.” My voice dropped to a whisper. “Not yet.”

She studied me for a long moment before slowly nodding. “Okay.”

I frowned. “Okay?”

“Okay.” She squeezed my hand again. “You do it your way. But if you need help, if you change your mind, the offer stands. Always.”

“Thank you.”

She kissed the top of my head before standing. “I’m going to start dinner. You take your time.”

I watched her move toward the stove, then looked at the rejection letter again.

Another opportunity gone.

My phone was beside my textbook. I picked it up before I could decide whether I should.

Me: Are you busy?

His response came almost immediately.

Jasper: Never for you.