by Marta Brown
My father’s eye brows arch in surprise and then settle into what looks like approval. “Is that right?” he says, sitting down on the sofa, crossing his leg casually. The tension in my shoulders vanishes. I knew Yale, and apparently my brother, would be the way into my parent’s good graces.
“Andrew and Gregory were just saying how Lane is Wolf material,” I add. Well, Andrew said so, but Greg was there. So, close enough.
“That is fantastic,” my father says, smiling.
Mirroring my father, I smile too. It’s starting to go better than I’d expected.
“You know, Andrew’s going to be President this year, so you’re a shoe in if he thinks you have what it takes.”
“Well, sir. I…um…” Lane starts to say, but he can hardly get a word out. “I’m not sure I will.”
“And pray tell why? How else do you expect to make the proper contacts for networking in the future?” my father asks. There’s no judgment in his question, it’s laced with concern that Lane doesn’t know the real purpose of the social aspects of collegiate life. In his opinion.
“Well, sir, I might not attend Yale in the fall after all.” I stop walking and stare at Lane.
“I’m sorry?” my father asks. He isn’t the only one who’s confused.
Lane looks at me instead of my father when he clarifies. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to afford it.”
His distress pinches my heart. Lane has been working so hard to afford the cost of tuition not covered by his partial scholarship, so I’m confused by his sudden lack of confidence. He’s been positive with the work study program, it would be tight, but he’d be able to make ends meet. I imagine it still feels daunting to have the cost of school riding on his shoulders.
“Lane has been working really hard to earn money this summer to pay for his tuition. He’s just being cautious because he’s still waiting to hear back about the work study program.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Lane says under his breath, every word laced with disappointment. “I… lost my scholarship.”
The pinch in my heart feels more like a vise grip now, making it hard to breathe. I immediately understand what he’s said and the implications of what that means. I inhale a clipped breath as the glass of water I’m holding slips in slow motion to the hardwood floor and shatters into a hundred pieces. Like my heart.
He lost his scholarship.
Chapter 17
Lane
When the glass of water Ashley was holding hits the floor, I shoot out of my chair.
“Baby, are you okay?” I scan her skin to be sure she hasn’t cut herself. She looks fine except for the blank expression on her face. “Don’t move,” I say with my arms spread out, looking down at her bare feet for a way she can safely avoid the shards of glass all around her.
“Oh, Ashley, could you be anymore careless?” Mrs. Whitmore huffs, walking out of the room. I hope she’s going to get a broom, or maybe call a maid; either way she won’t be expending any more energy berating her daughter.
Ashley wasn’t kidding when she said tonight was going to be difficult, and I had wanted so badly to make a good impression, but now that was totally shot.
In hindsight, I should’ve canceled as soon as I received the letter this morning, but I didn’t want to let Ashley down. And even with the few hours I had to process it, it still doesn’t seem real that I lost my scholarship. The events of this morning hitting me again, like a tidal wave.
When nothing was left in my stomach, and the muscles in my shoulders and back were wracked with pain from dry heaving, I forced myself up and back to the kitchen. I grabbed the plate of food that was making my stomach churn and dumped it in the trashcan before picking up the letter and reading it. Again. Hoping between the bathroom and the kitchen it had somehow changed its intended message.
Not the case.
Dear Mr. McCarthy,
It has been brought to our attention you have recently violated our strict code of conduct by engaging in reckless behavior unbefitting of our scholarship recipients.
We have a long proud tradition of providing scholarships to students who demonstrate the upmost character and high regard to the ideals of our fine institution. We feel we can no longer extend this honor to you and trust that your judgment is in line with our standards.
Your admittance has not been revoked, as you were not found negligent, but we do hope you can make better choices in the future, or we feel this prestigious university may not be a good fit for you.
Cordially,
Edward K. Davenport
Scholarship Honors Board Chairman
I dropped the letter on the table and called Ashley but got her voicemail, forgetting she was grounded, and that included her phone. Shit. This was not something that I wanted to leave a message about.
“Hey, babe, remember that time I raced that ass-hat I thought was your boyfriend? Yeah, well, apparently Yale found out that I got arrested that night and decided to pull my scholarship. I guess your parents are right, I’m a delinquent that’s going nowhere in life. Call me. Oh, and by the way, I love you.”
Yeah, that sounds about right.
“I’m so sorry, Lane,” Ashley whispers, gently pulling me back into the here and now. I nod because I know she means the scholarship and not my broken glass of water.
“Let me help you.” Glass crunches under my dress shoes as I pick Ashley up at the waist and set her back down on the rug, out of harm’s way.
“What do you mean you lost your scholarship?” she asks, trying to keep her voice low so her father doesn’t hear. Either that, or she’s trying to not embarrass me any more than I already am, having had to admit to her and her parents what a failure I am. I guess it was too much to hope that the subject of school could be avoided until I had a chance to talk to her alone.
“Yes, that’s what I’d like to know,” Mr. Whitmore says, standing again and crossing his arms.
This day has gone from bad to worse and fast.
“Umm…well, I think there’s been some kind of mistake. I’m looking into what can be done, sir,” I explain, hoping that will suffice without having to get into the details.
“Mistake?” Mr. Whitmore says skeptically, his brows raised. “The only way I have ever heard of a scholarship being revoked is when a student violates the ethics code, typically by getting in trouble with the law.”
Everything in me is screaming. Lie. Lie. Just make something up and cover your ass, but I can’t do it. I’d never lie to Ashley or her parents, no matter how bad it’s bound to turn out. It’s just not who I am.
“Well? Did you get in trouble with the law, Mr. McCarthy?” Mr. Whitmore asks but it sounds more like an accusation than a question, and he looks like a man who likes to be right.
I suck in a deep breath and brace myself for her parent’s wrath and Ashley’s certain disappointment in me. “Sir, I promise it was a misunderstanding. It was a friendly race that got out of hand.” I look at Ashley and see she knows I’m talking about the race with Gregory at the bluffs.
“Oh, Lane.” She covers her mouth with her hand. She looks so disappointed that my heart drops into my stomach. Her parents be damned, it’s her opinion that matters to me most, and by the look on her face, I’ve let her down.
Mrs. Whitmore returns with a broom and dust pan and starts to clean up the glass all around us, unaware of the last few minutes. “Is everything alright?” she asks as a suffocating silence lies over the room like a heavy blanket.
“Everything is not alright. Ashley, I think it’s time for Lane to leave,” Mr. Whitmore says sternly. “Please see him to the door and come back in here immediately so your mother and I can speak with you. Alone.”
“But—”
Ashley’s mother cuts her off. “You heard your father.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” I say because what else is left at this point.
“I’m sure you are,” Mr. Whitmore says, his tone as sharp as the slivers of glass still cove
ring the floor. He turns his back to me and refills his glass of wine, letting me know in no uncertain terms he’s done.
“Mr. Whitmore, Mrs. Whitmore.” I nod at each of them politely, even though neither is looking at me, before I walk out of the room, Ashley close behind.
At the front door I expect to see Ashley as disappointed and distant as her parents, but she’s not. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are wet as she wraps her arms around my neck.
“It’s going to be okay. We’ll figure it out,” she says encouragingly into my ear, then pulls back so our foreheads are pressed against one another. “I promise.”
I feel undeserving of her. “I’m so sorry, baby, I’ve messed up everything.”
“Ashley Elizabeth,” her father says loudly from the other room, startling us.
“Meet me at the lighthouse,” Ashley whispers before opening the door. “I’ll figure out a way to get out.”
I want to tell her no. I don’t want her to risk getting into any more trouble on account of me, but even more, I want to wrap her in my arms and let this day fade away in her kisses. Because I’m selfish like that.
“I’ll be there.”
Chapter 18
Ashley
After saying goodbye to Lane my eyes fill with hot tears. I shut the door, and return to the living room per my father’s request, readying myself to stand up to them.
For my entire life, I’ve been the dutiful daughter. Yes, ma’am, yes, sir. Never talking back, always being seen but never heard. It’s infuriating. I’m almost eighteen and they still treat me like a child incapable of making my own choices, whether it’s about what school I go to, what classes I take when I get there, which friends I socialize with and most importantly who I fall in love with.
I want them to hear me, maybe even for the very first time. Being with Lane has changed me and I never want to go back to being the girl that lets her parents dictate her whole life. Because that would be a life without Lane.
“Ashley, sit down.” My father gestures to the seat Lane had just been sitting in moments before, the broken glass mostly cleaned up.
“I’ll stand, thank you.” I cross my arms, purposely being defiant.
I’m still shocked at how the evening transpired even though I knew it was going to be tense. I just never imagined it would have turned out like it did. I want to scream and yell at how they treated Lane, but if I act like a child throwing a tantrum, that will only result in my parents being right. I refuse to give them the satisfaction.
My father’s eyes narrow at me. “You will sit down, right now, young lady,” he says eerily quiet.
My heart starts to beat double time, but I hold my ground. “I’ll sit as soon as you apologize for the way you treated Lane,” I say, jutting out my chin.
My father’s face turns as red as the glass of wine he’s holding before he sets it down on the coffee table and takes a deep breath. His face transforms from raw anger to calm intensity like it does when he’s debating a political foe and that’s scarier than any amount of yelling.
“You may stand, but that will not change the fact that your mother and I will do no such thing as to apologize,” he spits. “That boy is exactly the person we thought he was. He is going nowhere in life, Ashley, and it seems he’s not going to Yale either, which doesn’t surprise me in the least.” His smugness makes the tears pooling in my eyes spill over and run down my cheeks.
“That race wasn’t even his idea,” I snap. “It was Andrew’s. And Gregory raced too.” I feel bad for throwing my brother under the bus, but I’m too desperate for them to see Lane isn’t just some loser who’s going nowhere in life to stop myself. He’s no different than their own son and their favorite golden boy, Gregory.
“I hardly believe that your brother and Gregory would do anything of the sort,” my mother says, putting her hands on her hips. “And speaking of Gregory Chase, I’m sorry, but he’s the boy you should be dating.” I snort. You’re sorry? More like, you’re sorry you’re not sorry. “He’s a good boy from a great family, Ashley,” she finishes and I can’t stop myself from rolling my eyes.
“Good boy?” A shiver runs down my back thinking about the way Gregory grabbed me on the beach and what might have happened if Lane hadn’t shown up. “Hardly.”
“Well then, why don’t you explain to me why last year I heard nothing but glowing reports about you and Gregory amongst our friends at the club?
“What does that have to do with Lane?” I ask, but I’m afraid I already know the answer.
“Don’t believe Kiki Newhall didn’t delight in telling me Hailey and Gregory are now an item, right after she got done telling me all about you and Lane gallivanting in the middle of the night at the club pool. Scantily clad, I might add.”
Crap. I knew that woman couldn’t resist gossiping. “Scantily clad?” I say, trying not to blush at the memory and also trying to cover my butt, so to speak. “It’s summer, Mother. Would you rather I wear jeans and a sweatshirt to swim in as opposed to a bikini?” It was practically a bikini. Kind of.
“While Lane might be an exciting summer fling, Ashley,” she says dismissively, “you have made some very poor choices in regards to him, so, let’s not let him ruin your bright future any further.” She smiles. “Not to worry, the summer’s not a complete loss, maybe you and Gregory can still patch things up. It didn’t sound like he and Hailey were all that serious.”
My mother’s tone is so casual at the idea of me just tossing Lane aside that my mouth falls open. Lane’s not going to ruin my future. He is my future.
I’m not sure what it’s going to take for my mother to see Gregory and I are never getting back together, but for right now, it’s no use. I feel like I’m waging an unwinnable war and the casualties are going to be far too great. In a few weeks I’ll be eighteen and then right after that I leave for school. My only concern now is to make sure Lane is there too.
“Fine. Believe what you like,” I say to my mother, my tone sharp. “This is pointless. You two are never going to change and it doesn’t matter to me anyway, so is there anything else?” I ask, my pulse racing. I’ve never talked back. Ever.
My father’s nostrils flare at my defiance. “You, my dear, are grounded for the rest of the summer and are not permitted to see that boy anymore. Do you understand me?”
“You can’t do that!” I yell at them for the first time in my life, “I’ll be eighteen soon, and I won’t let you keep me from being with him.”
“As long as you’re under our roof, you will do as we say,” my father growls.
“Well maybe I won’t be under your roof for long,” I threaten before running down the stairs, fresh tears streaming down my face. I won’t get my grandfather’s inheritance until I’m twenty-one, but Andrew would help me out. I know he would. They can’t keep me from seeing Lane. I won’t allow it.
I’m still laying on my bed crying when my mother comes down to check on me. I don’t want to talk to her or my father. I want to talk to Lane.
“Ashley, one day you’ll see we are just looking out for you and your best interests,” she says from my bedroom doorway. “We’re going to the club for dinner, but we’ll be back soon and hopefully we can try speaking again when your emotions are not running so out of control.”
I refuse to acknowledge her. I know it’s childish, but I could care less at the moment.
I hear my bedroom door shut with a soft click and then the front door open and close before I throw on a pair of sandals and slip out the sliding glass door.
Lane stands with his back to me. He turns around as I brush against the tall sea grass. I give him a shy, sad smile. I don’t know what else to do or say about tonight. His eyes seem to say what I can’t, they’re full of regret and heartache and apologies. But it’s the smile that he gives me back that captures exactly how I feel about him. It looks like love.
I blink a few times, watching him watch me, and I’m suddenly overwhelmed by this boy and the way I fe
el about him. I wonder if he can see it in my smile too. I have fallen completely and wholly in love with him.
I run the last few feet until I’m cradled in his arms. I nuzzle into him as one of his arms tightens around my lower back while the other runs up the length of my spine until his hand is buried in my hair.
“I’m so sorry,” I cry into his shoulder, my own arms clutched around his waist.
“No, baby, I’m sorry. I messed up everything,” he says, pulling away slightly so I can see his face. “I don’t know how, but somehow Yale found out about my arrest, and they took my scholarship away.” Lane hangs his head. “I didn’t want to tell you like that. Your parents are right…you deserve so much more than me.”
How could he think that? He’s everything I could ever want or hope for. My parents couldn’t be any more wrong if they tried and right now…neither could Lane.
I lift up on my tiptoes so I can look him in the eyes. I need him to see how serious I am. “Please don’t pay any attention to what my parents think. They don’t know you, and I’m not so sure they even know me. Lane, I don’t care if you go to Yale or community college or no college at all. You are all I want, no matter where we are, no matter what we do. No matter what.” I give him a smile I hope will convey how much he means to me, although I’m not sure that is even possible.
“You mean it?” Lane asks seriously.
“I do, with all of my heart,” I whisper, staring into Lane’s eyes and I do mean it. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.
Lane moves his hands to my face and brushes his thumbs across my cheek bones before leaning down and giving me a soft kiss.
“You are all I’ll ever want too, no matter what,” Lane says, against my lips, his eyes closed. “Always.”
Chapter 19
Lane
Pete hands me a twenty and slips the other twenty into his pocket. “That Stay just tipped me forty bucks on your detail job. Nice work, bro.”
