Total pages in book: 187
Estimated words: 188957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 945(@200wpm)___ 756(@250wpm)___ 630(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 188957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 945(@200wpm)___ 756(@250wpm)___ 630(@300wpm)
“You want me to go to fashion school?”
Again, he looks up in that typical way of his. “Yes. If you want your designs to be out there someday, on a runway, you’ll need training.”
I stare at him in disbelief.
“But that was…” I shake my head. “That was just something I said. And it’s freaking crazy and impossible to even —”
“If you work for it, it won’t be.”
“But I —”
“No,” he says sternly then, raising his face, his eyes determined. “I’m not going to hear any excuses, Poe. You’re good. You’re talented. And I told you that you’re done hiding. All you need is a little focus and discipline and you can make this happen. Not to mention, now is the time to get serious about your future. You’re about to graduate high school. You’re about to go out in the world. You need a goal. And you need a solid plan to reach that goal.” He nods as if to emphasize. “I think we should make a list of colleges and then we can divide them into three tiers. Top choices, middle choices, and safety schools, based on their program, how strong and prestigious it is, and their admissions criteria. Although I do understand that you might not want my help, and that’s okay. In that case, we can go through lawyers and mediators. But I want you to know that I’ll help you in any way that I can. Especially through this whole transition period. And —”
“I don’t want to go,” I whisper.
Or rather mumble incoherently.
Which makes him frown and say, “Excuse me?”
I clench my fists in my lap and take a deep breath.
Hoping that it might help with my nerves. No such luck though.
My heart is still beating like a restless bird. My heart is still twisting and turning and clenching like it has been ever since he came to my room last night and held me in his arms — his strong guardian arms — to protect me from my nightmares.
And then told me that he was letting me go.
As soon as he left my room last night, I’d made my decision.
I’d decided — firmly and without hesitation — as to what I wanted to do.
And all morning, through breakfast and the drive over and through all my classes, I kept waiting for the moment, for the chance, to break it to him.
This decision.
But now that it’s here, I’m nervous.
Not because I’m nervous about the decision itself but because I need to convince him of it.
And under his dark, slightly confused scrutiny, I can hear my heart beating in my ears.
I clear my throat, mostly just to hear my own voice over my heart, and sit up straight. I inch up my glasses, and while he watches me compose myself, I say, very clearly this time, “I don’t want to go.”
Apparently, it’s not clear enough for him though because he goes, “I think we’ve already discussed about you going to a fashion school, and so —”
I clutch my skirt. “No, not the fashion school.” I frown. “Although that’s super surreal to think about but…” I shake my head. “What I mean is that I don’t want to leave St. Mary’s. Not yet. I want to finish summer school.”
Finally, I’ve made myself clear.
I can see it.
My words and my meaning have finally registered and they have done it in an impactful way. In a way that straightens his already straight shoulders. That makes his already hard jaw harder and firmer, and his frown much thicker than before.
“What?”
Even his deep voice is deeper and I have to remind myself that I knew this could happen.
I knew it might take him a while to warm up to this turn of events.
Given that he was adamant about letting me go last night. Given how adamant I have been about leaving.
“I’d like to finish summer school the right way and —”
“What’s the right way?”
His interruption throws me again but again, I knew this would be the case so I’m determined. “By staying until the end. Finishing all my classes and then taking the tests.”
For a few moments, he doesn’t say anything.
He simply studies me, my features. My glasses, my bangs. Then, “Why?”
Finally a question that I have prepared for.
This boosts my confidence a little bit and I begin in a much calmer voice, “Because the reason that you’re willing to let me graduate early is because you’re my guardian. There are two other girls here who are going through the same thing but they have to stay until the end. So why I should be treated differently just because I have an in with the principal?” I nod for good measure. “So I’ve decided that it’s best for me to finish out summer school and then leave.”
Again, he takes me in for a few moments. Then his eyes flash and he rumbles, “You’ve decided.”