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Her ma took the chair to her right, forgetting her plate on the other side of the table to sit next to Charlotte instead of her wife. “Tell us what’s going on.”
The dam had broken. She told them everything about her homesickness, how she wanted to do a program to be able to help with the businesses, but there were no options local to them where she could commute. How she planned to take a break until fall and make a final decision on what to do then. She needed time. She wasn’t ready.
She told them about Aiden and how he stayed with her.
Her ma assumed the reason was to keep her company while she finished up her coursework to help with her homesickness. While she didn’t lie, she didn’t correct the assumption.
She even told them about starting antidepressants again because it got so bad.
The two things she didn’t tell them about were her stalker and what she saw in the alley. They already looked concerned for her.
“I just wish you told us how much you hated accounting before now,” her ma said. Her pale cheeks appeared flushed. If anyone were to look at her, they would think she felt anger, but her mild rosacea always flared up when she felt stress, giving her a deep blush on her cheekbones. “We could have helped you figure something else out.”
“I didn’t want to bother you.”
A smooth, tanned hand covered hers. “That’s what we’re here for.”
She was glad now she pushed through the midterms. If she hadn’t, and left earlier than now, all the time she spent feeling terrible would have been for nothing.
“There aren’t any schools around, really,” her mom said. “I don’t think you should go back, though. If this is a homesick thing, it’ll happen again. Even if you went to Atlanta to be closer, you would still need to move. It’s still three hours away.”
“What about Savannah State?” her ma asked.
Both Charlotte and her mom looked up at that.
“You could attend and be close enough to commute,” her ma explained. “We’re twenty minutes outside of Savannah. What’s another fifteen to the other side of town?”
Charlotte picked at the shell of her taco, breaking little pieces off. “I completely missed that place. I thought the only local options were the art school or Blackthorn Academy.” There wasn’t a lot of reason to keep looking after qualifying for grants to attend UGA for their accounting program. She didn’t think she needed to. If she had looked harder, would she have found Savannah State? Had she seen it and forgotten?
Standing from the table, her mom tucked her long black hair behind her ear. “I wondered why you didn’t apply to the academy.” She walked over to the kitchen, grabbed another can of Diet Coke from the refrigerator, and then placed it on the table. “Rumors or not, Blaire goes there. Aiden and Riley, too. Why not apply to go with them?” She picked up the pan in the center of the table, carrying it to the stove to warm up the now cold meat.
“That’s not a bad idea.” Her ma looked at Charlotte. “Do they have any business-related courses?”
She looked between her mothers, not sure how to answer their questions. She didn’t want them to be ashamed of the fact she wasn’t good enough to get into the school. No one was.
There was a reason the rumors existed.
The only local she knew to get accepted was Blaire, and only because someone handed her a scholarship on a silver platter. Charlotte still didn’t understand how that happened. She only knew she wouldn’t be so lucky.
Even Aiden’s family wasn’t from Rosebrook Valley. According to Riley, her family moved to town from Atlanta when Aiden was a toddler. She didn’t know if others from the academy were local or not. Lukas’s family was from Finland, and Riley told her Seth and Kai’s family was German. She didn’t know as much about Layla, and never asked where Mera came from.
Local families attempted to enroll their kids into Blackthorn Academy. Both into the college campus in town and the lower grades placed in what they called branch schools located outside of town.
If students from the private prep school, Magnolia Heights, couldn’t do it, she didn’t stand a chance.
“I don’t even know what course to take,” she said, diverting attention from not applying to Blackthorn. She could look into Savannah State to avoid further questions.
“For now, we’ll keep your apartment. It’s only another month and a half until the fall semester, right?” her ma said, sliding her plate across the table.
Charlotte nodded.
“Then it isn’t much difference to deal with the cost. It’ll save time in case you change your mind. In the meantime, you should check into Savannah State and see if they have something that appeals to you more here.”
Her mom brought the pan back to the table and placed it on the heat mat. “Blackthorn Academy, too.”
“Okay,” Charlotte mumbled.
No way to avoid that one.
