I’m guessing that’s why Mary told me about it, why she walked Jane out. So that I could help convince Jane to do this. The college advisor knows what’s best for her.

And the truth is I know what’s best for her too, and it’s not me.

“Don’t,” she says.

“Don’t what? Don’t point out how much you’ll be missing? How much you’ll be giving up? Is this really even your dream anymore? Is this your goal if it’s changed so much? You wanted to graduate college, Jane. You wanted to go to college, not read a book hours away. Not submit your work online. That wasn’t your dream.”

“Dreams change,” she says.

And I know what she means, that it’s allowed to look different. But I think of something else. Because dreams change in bad ways. They fade. They become overshadowed by lust, by rich men who want a beautiful woman in their bed. “That’s what I’m worried about.”

Chapter Nine

CHAPTER NINE

Jane Mendoza

Sticky. That’s my first thought about the pub in the college town. We stayed in a nice hotel. I suggested we could just eat at the nice restaurant downstairs. Beau is the one who insisted that we venture out toward the campus. He’s determined that I should experience this.

And though I’m loathe to admit it to him, the truth is I’m curious about it.

So far though, my impression is only that it’s loud and crowded and sticky. The tables, the chairs, the floors. The bottoms of my tennis shoes stick to the floors when I walk. We manage to find a high-top table and two chairs. There are two draft beers in front of us. The waitress sails over to us, probably sensing that Beau will tip better than the average college kid.

“What are you getting?” She pulls out a notepad and pen.

“A burger,” Beau says.

I’m still studying the sticky plastic menu. “I’ll have a Caesar salad,” I say, “Thank you.”

“No problem,” she says to me, taking the menus. Before she slides away, I catch her wink at Beau. Is she flirting with him? It makes me feel strangely possessive.

I never thought I would be the jealous type, but the truth is, Beau looks handsome. He’s always been a good-looking man, but compared to all these college boys, the difference is even more striking.

“I’m going to the restroom,” Beau says, but he doesn’t immediately leave. He waits, watching for my agreement. It’s more than permission. He wants to know that I’ll be safe here. He may think I don’t notice, but he’s on the lookout for paparazzi. Thankfully, they don’t seem to have gotten wind of this college tour. I give him a broad smile, that’s only a little bit fake.