Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 164459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 822(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 822(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
He had a thick packet in his hand but before I could read whom it was sent from, he grabbed my shoulder and I looked up at him.
“Why are you crying, Jenny?” His voice was calm. It seemed unusual to hear it this calm and this concerned. His sentiment seeped through his pores. I could almost feel it, and it wrung my heart.
“It’s nothing,” I murmured.
“It’s something.” He swallowed thickly. “Is it… that boy?”
I avoided his eyes and didn’t respond.
“Did you two… um… break up?”
“No.”
“So what is it then?”
I looked up at Dad and his eyes softened, assuring me I could tell him. “You won’t tell Mom?”
“I won’t.”
“Swear to me, Dad. I don’t want her to know any more about him. Not after what she did.”
“She is your mother, Jenny,” he sighed.
“Yes, but a real mother is supposed to be understanding and honest. She isn’t supposed to try and pin him for breaking an entering.”
“I understand.” He scratched his chin. “I won’t tell your mom. I promise.” He smiled down at me.
I nodded, side-eyeing him. “I haven’t seen him since that night Mom caught us.”
“Why not?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I called and called, sent him text after text. Nothing. I found out, though, that his grandmother died and she was all he really had left as a parent, you know? He lived with her.”
“What about his dad?”
I scoffed. “His dad is a piece of crap. I’m sure you already know that.”
“I’ve heard things,” he stated, more like he knew a lot of things.
“I know you see him and you think he’s a bad guy, but he’s actually a really good person. He’s hard to read by most people because he makes it that way. I’ve known him since I was ten. We were friends in fifth grade. He was a nice boy and still is. He’s just a little… lost… and he feels abandoned.”
“I see.” Dad looked down at my hands as I messed with the tips of my fingernails. “Well, I’m sure he will reach out to you soon. But hey, look at this.” He picked up the packet with a smile and handed it to me.
I read the label and grinned. “Oh my gosh,” I gasped. “You think…?”
“I know.” He smiled.
I tore what was left of the packet open and read over the letter.
“Harvard may have turned you down, but Yale is just as good,” he announced.
“Oh my gosh, Dad!” I squealed as I hopped up, throwing my arms around his neck. He chuckled as he hugged me tight, and in that moment I forgot all about my worries. This was huge—some good news to get me past the bad for just a few seconds.
“You’re a smart girl, Jenny. I expected nothing less.”
I released him, grabbing the paper again. “Oh, I can’t wait to rub this in Mom’s face.”
“Hey now,” he scolded. “There will be no rubbing anything in anyone’s face. We’ll tell her over dinner tonight. I’ve already arranged it. Dinner should be ready within two hours.”
“Great.” I smiled and Dad stood, walking towards my door.
“Get cleaned up, okay? I’ll see you down in a bit.”
“Okay,” I whispered.
Dad wavered by the door, gripping the knob. “Uh…about that boy. If he doesn’t end up calling to make things right, just try and focus on your future. You have so much ahead of you, Jenny. So much. I’d hate to see you waste it all on someone that isn’t even sure about you, let alone himself.”
I watched his eyes carefully, and he was serious.
Very serious. And he cared, a lot more than I thought.
“I’ll see you at dinner.”
I nodded, and he took off right away, leaving no room for me to say anything else.
* * *
“So… Yale?” Mom asked. She folded her arms as she entered my bedroom. Her back pressed against the frames of my door. We’d just eaten dinner, and when I told her the news she wasn’t as ecstatic as Dad. As a matter of fact, she changed the subject all together.
I nodded. “Yep.”
“Harvard would have been much better.”
“Yale is just as good,” I declared.
“But it is second best. Not first, like Harvard.”
I drew in a breath, lowering my guitar to my lap. The song I was coming up with was the only thing distracting me from reality, but now that she was here, my reality was back and rolling.
“Okay, Mom.” I looked at her. “Is that all?”
“No, that’s not all. I have a list of everything you’ll need for your apartment. Your father and I are doing the shopping for it. We want to make sure it’s suitable enough for you.”
“Why don’t you just let me get a dorm?”
She scoffed. “Like I’d let a Roscoe live on a campus dorm. There have been millions of bodies in and out of those rooms, in those hallways—all over. That’s not happening.”