I turn around and walk back behind the counter, my heart pounding in my ears.

“Just spill it. I can tell you have something to say. I’ve known something was up for a while.”

“You have?” I ask, because if she knows already, then maybe it’s gonna be fine. Maybe there’s still hope.

maybemaybemaybemaybemaybe

“Yeah, like I know you’re not really broke, so whatever you’re hiding about your secret rich background or whatever, just tell me. I don’t care. What, is your father, like, on the board of the conservatory or something? Are you going to break it to me gently that you’ve already seen my application?”

I laugh, hoarse and hard, and I hate it. But I can’t believe this is what she thinks about, that I have money and she doesn’t care. How big of her. When the fuck has anybody cared that somebody has money? Like, when has that been a detractor? As long as I’m the right kind of rich, everybody’s in love. Jesus, why does everybody care so much about money?

She’s not entirely wrong, though. I know for a fact that one of my dad’s especially smarmy drinking buddies is on the board of the conservatory. If Dad told him about this, he probably could arrange for her to get the scholarship or make sure she never got it, depending on how Vera reacted. Which is exactly why he can never find out.

I clench my hands and shove them in my pockets. I don’t want to do this anymore. I can’t.

“Ridley, what’s wrong?”

I glance up and meet her eyes. She looks worried, and I don’t want to be the one to make her look like that.

icantdothisicant

Maybe I can leave. Maybe I can get away. Go back to Seattle. She’d still have Bats. And maybe Bats is better than nothing. Maybe. I don’t know. I can’t think here. There are too many books and not enough space.

gogogogogogogogogogo

“I have to leave,” I say, and dart out the door.

It’s pouring outside, because of course it would pour when I have to skate three miles home. I’d call for an Uber, but I left my phone inside. Oh well, I’ll just order another one.

And I know as soon as I get back to my dad’s house, I’m going to lock myself behind a door nobody can get through and sit alone until the plane ticket processes and the Uber comes, until I can be a million miles away, where I can just be the boy that Peak texts when it’s convenient for her, where I won’t mess up her life just by being around.