Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 98538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
So many things hung between us in the air that morning, so many things neither of us spoke of. So many secrets, so many half-truths, so much pain.
When we got to the door of the school, he leaned forward and took my face in his hands and kissed my forehead, his lips lingering there as if he was gathering himself. And then he backed up and looked at me, smiling a small smile, his eyes moving over my face as if he was memorizing me—as if he was saying goodbye.
I opened my mouth to speak, to beg him to do something, to ask him to explain what was happening. But I had no idea what. He turned and walked into the school. He didn’t look back.
Later, when I recalled that assembly, it seemed like a dream, like I hadn’t really been there in the flesh when they called my name. I had been so ready to hear the name Kyland Barrett called when the winner of the scholarship was awarded, that my brain didn’t hear my own name instead. And so I sat there, smiling and clapping with the rest of the student body. The girl next to me laughed and elbowed me, smiling kindly as she said, “Get up there.”
I had blinked and looked around, shock cascading through me like an icy waterfall. No! No, this wasn’t right. I even whispered it, “No,” as I was pulled up and pushed along the aisle, faces smiling at me and congratulations being called out as I moved along the row of students, drawing their legs to the side to make room. I looked around wildly for Kyland and finally spotted him, sitting with his last period class, the look on his face strangely blank. “No,” I whispered again.
“Tenleigh Falyn,” Edward Kearney announced again, beaming at me from the stage. I didn’t remember walking up there, but suddenly I was in front of him and his large, capped smile was right in front of me. He laughed, a deep chuckle, the same one I recalled coming from the small bedroom of our trailer as the bed squeaked and my mama moaned.
I looked back at Kyland’s seat, but he wasn’t there. He had gone.
“Well, congratulations,” Mr. Kearny said. “I can see this is quite a shock.” I looked over to our principal, Mrs. Branson, and she grinned widely at me, but I couldn’t manage to smile back.
The rest of that hour went by in a haze. I wanted to jump up and run out of there. I wanted to chase after Kyland. I wanted to comfort him, talk to him, be with him. What was he feeling right now? Oh, Kyland. I wanted to scream.
How did this happen? How could it be that I was getting the one thing I had dreamed of more than any other over my high school career and it was like a nightmare? Funny how our dreams can shift in what seems like an instant.
When it was over, when there had been applause and congratulations, when I’d been handed the paperwork telling me that my tuition at San Diego State University had been paid in full, including my dorm room, and an account opened in my name that would pay for my meals, when all my dreams had supposedly come true, I went tearing out of there straight to Mrs. Branson’s office.
“Tenleigh,” she said, surprised laughter bubbling from her when I barged into her office and shut the door behind me, probably looking crazed.
“I can’t take the scholarship,” I blurted out. “There’s been a mistake.”
Mrs. Branson laughed again, but her brows furrowed. “Tenleigh, my dear, there hasn’t been a mistake. Mr. Kearney had all that paperwork drawn up already. It’s all set, all in your name. Mistakes aren’t made when it comes to something important like that. You won it, honey. Fair and square.”
I shook my head, collapsing in the chair across from her desk. “I bombed my finals,” I said. “I did terribly.”
I did it for Kyland. I did it so he’d win.
This is all wrong. This is all wrong.
She regarded me quizzically. “I did see that you choked on those tests, Tenleigh. I was surprised. You’ve always been such a good test taker.” She waved her hand in the air. “But evidently, the scholarship is based on more than final test scores—you have to understand that your whole four years here is taken into consideration…how many AP classes you took, what extracurricular activities you were involved in, things of that nature.”
The truth was, I hadn’t been involved in many extracurricular activities. We couldn’t afford them, and I’d had to work. This couldn’t be right.
I wondered briefly if this had anything to do with my mother. I sat up straight in the chair. Had Mr. Kearney given me this scholarship to get our family out of town? But how would that work? It’s not like I could take anyone with me. What? Would my mama and Marlo sleep in my dorm room bunk bed with me? Of course not. I was desperate and so confused.