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Prescott opens one of the books in his hands and pulls out the envelope. He flips it from one hand to the other and just stares at it. The paper is worn from the many times he probably took it in his hands and did the very same thing before he put it back down. Unopened.
“I can’t.” His Adam’s apple bobs as he gives me the letter. “You do it.”
“You want me to open it?”
“Yeah, and then you can tell me the results. Or not tell me.” He shoves the letter at me. “No, tell me. One way or the other, just tell me.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, gently taking the letter.
“Yeah. Just do it.”
“Okay.”
My gaze is locked on his as I slide my finger under the seal and rip it open. Prescott closes his eyes. Sweat has gathered over his forehead and upper lip.
He’s nervous.
Not just that, he’s petrified of seeing those results.
Sinking my teeth into my lower lip, I pull out the letter, but instead of opening it, I grab the ticket from my pocket. Not letting myself think too much about what I’m about to do, I slide the ticket along with the letter and place it back into the envelope.
“So?” Prescott asks, his eyes still firmly shut as he shifts from one leg to the other. “It’s bad, right? I didn’t pass. Shit, I knew—”
Lifting on the tips of my toes, I press my mouth against the corner of his as I place the envelope into his hand.
“You have to be the one to open it, Prescott.”
He blinks his eyes open. “You didn’t read it?”
I shake my head. “I don’t need to open it. I believe in you. And you need to believe more in yourself too.” Clasping my hands over his and the letter, I smile at him. “Face your demons, Prescott.”
“What if I lose?”
“But what if you win?”
My eyes are still on his. I take a step back and another one. With the third step, I turn around and walk away, hoping this time he will follow.
Nixon is still waiting for me as I make my way to Cup It Up, my backpack in hand.
“So? How did it go?”
“I told him it was time to face his demons.” Nixon opens his mouth to protest. “All his demons. He has to open that letter himself, and when he does, I hope he’ll come and find me.”
Nixon runs his hand over his face. “Jade…”
I take my backpack from my brother’s hands and grab two more tickets, handing them silently to him.
Nixon looks at them, reading over the label before his head snaps up, his blue eyes huge as a smile slowly makes its way to his lips. “Is this…”
“A few weeks back, Professor Reyes asked me to do the exhibition.”
“But you didn’t win.”
“I didn’t. But the gallery owner loved my work so much she wanted to do an exhibition with just my work.”
“Jade, that’s amazing!”
Nixon pushes to his feet and grabs me, picking me up and spinning me around like crazy.
