Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 48601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Mom frowns.
“Hang on, wait, do you not know?”
“Know what?”
She smiles curiously. “I just figured he’d already told you himself. Honey, Jamison already got into college. He did early decision and found out two months ago.”
I blink.
“Hang on, what?”
She arches a curious brow.
“You didn’t know that?”
“No?”
Mom clears her throat. “Well, then I’m betting you didn’t know that he’s going to Stanford, too.”
My heart flips.
“Wait, what? No! No, there’s no freaking way that’s true! Mom, he’s a slacker who doesn’t give a shit about school.”
“Actually, he’s a pretty smart kid, honey.”
“Wait, how is this possible? He’s not in any of the AP classes—”
“He took them all his junior year, when he and Bobby were living in South Carolina.”
Mind. Fucking. Blown.
I’m just staring at nothing in the mirror in total shock as my mom smiles and comes up to drape and arm over my shoulder.
“C’mon, let’s go get me married, okay?”
***
In the rose gardens of Weiss Manor, the string quartet plays quietly in the background. But all I can hear is the thumping of my own heart as I stare straight ahead, trying not to look at Jamison. This is no easy feat, considering he’s literally standing in front of me, across the altar looking right at me. That and he looks amazing in a suit. Or the fact that it’s literally just him, Ethan, Bobby, and me at the altar, waiting for my mom to start her walk down the aisle.
I want to keep ignoring him, or to keep being mad at him. But three weeks later and after everything I now know and have just heard, it’s almost like I can’t remember why I’m actually mad at him. The Melissa thing? Proved false. The bet? Also bullshit. Him being a slacker? Yeah, nope. Apparently, he’s going to the same ivy league as me.
So, it might just be that my mom is right. It might just be that I never saw Jamison Scott coming. It might be that this is and is going to be messy, and messy isn’t something I’m used to.
I blink, and suddenly, I realize I’m staring right at him, and he’s staring right back at me. And also, his lips are moving. I frown, realizing he’s trying to mouth words to me.
“What?” I mouth back, frowning.
Jamison sighs heavily before he says something again, gesturing with his hands in a way I can’t really understand.
“Huh?”
He growls lowly, and he starts the whole pantomime again before Bobby Scott rolls his eyes.
“Oh, for fucks sake,” he mutters, more at Jamison than me. “What my son is trying to say is, check your bouquet.”
I blush, my eyes swiveling past Bobby to a grinning Jamison before I glance down into the flowers in my hand. I frown curiously, plucking the little folded piece of paper out of the peonies. I glance up at Jamison, who’s grinning at me as he nods.
“Read it,” he mouths.
Slowly, I unfold the note, and when my eyes drag across the four simple words, my heart begins to melt.
It was always you.
The string quartet suddenly changes into Pachabel’s Canon in D Major, and everyone turns to look down the aisle as my mother steps into view. My heart races, and I smile so wide at her, tears brimming in my eyes as I turn back to see Jamison looking right at me, unblinkingly. I sob as the smile stretches over my entire face, tears streaming down my face as our eyes lock.
“It was always you, too,” I mouth quietly. And when he grins, and when that fire sparks between us, it’s like the world has started turning again.
My mom gets to the altar, and then it’s just a blur of beautiful words, vows, love, and a couple of “I do’s” before the small crowd leaps to their feet cheering as Bobby and my mother race back down the aisle, giggling and jumping around like teenagers. I turn back, and my heart stops as I realize the space where Jamison was just standing is empty. I blink, my pulse skipping before suddenly Ethan steps forward.
“He’s a dick. You know that, right?”
I grin. “I may have picked up on that before.”
Ethan smiles. “But damn is he crazy about you. And I mean crazy.”
I blush, smiling shyly as Ethan chuckles and shakes his head.
“Look, if you want him, he wants me to tell you to find him out front.”
I frown. “Why?”
“Grand gestures,” Ethan grins. “Grand gestures.”
I give him a quick hug, and even a quick, excited hug to Ms. Hayes—I mean Emily—when she walks over. But after that, I’m running—literally running—through the gardens back towards the house. My skin tingles, my heart basically leaps out of my chest, and the breeze whips through my hair, tugging it free of its careful placement. But I just don’t care.
I dash around the side of the east wing of the house, half tripping through some flower beds until I go skidding out into the gravel driveway loop in front of the house. And there, still in his suit with the top buttons of his shirt undone and that cool-as-ever, cocky and smug grin on his face, leaning against the side of his Mustang, is Jamison.