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“What do you want?”
Shaking my head, I reply, “It’s in my parents’ name. I just make the payments.”
“Must be nice,” he sings with a swagger to his step. “Must be nice.”
Given one more minute, I would have been handing over the keys. But I know a car doesn’t trade as easily as drugs do.Fuck, I was close.Lark would kill me, and I quite like seeing her every day.
He opens the door and looks back. His good mood is gone, replaced by the side I imagine Lark knows. “You’re going to make sure she gets out of Beacon, right? You’re her best chance.”
“She’sher best chance, but I’ll make sure she does as a backup plan.”
“Righteous.”
I have the wildest thought. I run my hand through my hair, doubting I should even do this. The guy’s causing Lark heartache on purpose. But maybe there’s a way for him to change the direction of his life. Lark’s heart is pure gold. I know she wouldn’t be upset over what I’m about to do. “Hey, Dane.” He looks back once more. I say, “If you’re looking for more of a steady gig, I know a few guys who could probably use some help. Nothing big, but they have good benefits and offer a decent salary.”
He stares at me, his face contorted like I might be pulling one over on him. “Why would you help me?”
I shrug. “You have a baby on the way, and because you’re Lark’s friend.” I walk to my car. “Amanda has my number if you ever want the connections.”
“Thanks.”
I take one last look and then sink into my car. On the way to pick up Lark, I start thinking about this brooch. I think it’s going to be chalked up to a lost cause. If he’s not taking money, I don’t have anything else to offer.
So other than stealing the brooch back from him, which has crossed my mind at one point, Lark may never have it in her possession again. As the messenger, I was not wanting to be the guy who breaks her heart.
I pull up out front, and she gets in. Leaning over, she kisses me all smiles like I didn’t just fail my mission. “Hi,” she says, strapping on her seat belt. “Did you get any texts recently?”
“Texts frommm . . .”
She shoves her phone in my face. “I got in, babe. I got into Yale Medical School. Did you hear back?”
I got the text weeks ago, but I didn’t tell her because I wanted to see if she got in first. I’d already decided I’m going where she’s going because I can’t live without her. But what do I tell her? That I lied, that I only had to apply as a formality?
“I knew you could do it, baby.” I lean over and kiss her. When we sit back, I start to drive us home.
She asks, “Is it normal not to receive the scholarship with the acceptance letter? I received both at the same time for Beacon.”
“Maybe you get it when you commit?”
“Oh. Maybe you’re right.” She slides her finger up and down the screen, and then says, “Oh my God. I just committed to Yale.” She’s giggling in excitement when she adds, “I’m going to check emails just in case it comes in that way.”
She’s silent and staring out the window by the time I’m parking.
Her nerves are even eating away atmystomach. “Anything?”
“Still nothing.” Her good mood has taken a turn for the worse. She chews on the inside of her cheek and gets out of the car without another word.
Trying to stay positive for her, I say, “I’ve heard sometimes people receive them later. Maybe it comes in a formal letter and not a text.”
“I have a bad feeling about this.” I reach over, taking her backpack and swinging it over my shoulder, and then take her hand as we walk toward the elevators. She stops suddenly, tears filling her eyes. “What if I don’t get it?”
If I have my way, I’ll give her the whole world and more like she gave me the universe. I wrap my arms around her and kiss the top of her head. “You will.”
If I only knew then what I know now, I would have savored the kiss I placed on her head that day.
36
Harbor
