Letting out a sigh, I remember that I like to brag about having balls of steel and I suck up the courage to figure out if I’m doomed or not.
I click on the first email and my world stops.
Your application for a student loan has been rejected.
Fuck.
I fly through the emails, checking over the other three, my body freezing with the panic pulsing through my veins.
Your application for a student loan has been rejected.
Your application for a student loan has been rejected.
Your application for a student loan has been rejected.
No. No, no, no. This can’t be happening. How did I get rejected? I fit the criteria for every application. I ticked all the little boxes as I went. I shouldn’t have been denied. I should be reading over four congratulatory emails and trying to figure out which option was the best to accept.
This isn’t right.
What am I supposed to do? I need college. It's the only road in my mind that takes me to where I want to go. I refuse to be some girl who lives off her boyfriend's generosity for the rest of my life. I have to make my own way in the world. I just have to. Not affording college isn’t an option.
Tears well in my eyes and slowly roll down my cheek as I read over the emails again and again. What am I going to do? Colton said that if this didn’t work, he could always talk to the dean. Apparently, he owed Charles a favor. Maybe we could work out some kind of payment plan but I doubt that I'll ever make the kind of money to quickly pay off student fees. Mom will insist on helping but I don’t want to do that to her. She should be focusing on rebuilding everything we lost after Dad died, not spending her hard-earned money on me. That’s not fair, and despite the way she insists on doing it, I won't let that happen.
Feeling my tears dropping off the side of my face and splashing against Colton’s arms, I slip out of bed, not wanting to wake and alert him. I’m not ready to share this news with him yet. I need a few hours to process and only then when I’ve finally let it sink in will I have that conversation with him. Besides, I know how it’s going to go and I don’t think I have the strength to deny his offer right now.
I grab the throw blanket off the end of Colton’s bed and wrap it around myself before slipping out of his bedroom. It’s just past five-thirty in the morning and I’m sure he’ll be waking up soon for his usual morning workout and when that happens, I don’t want him to see the devastation on my face. I feel like every time he looks at me lately, that’s all he sees. It’s just one hit after another and I don’t know how much more I can take.
I trudge through the quiet mansion and take myself up to the private living area that Colton had shown me the night of the Gatsby party. I open the massive windows and drop down on the wide couch, pulling the throw blanket tighter around my body as I look out at the impressive property.
My phone rests in my hand, feeling heavier than it ever should have the right to feel. I try to calm my wild emotions but find it near impossible. I never used to be like this. This isn’t me. I’ve always had control of my emotions. I’ve always been able to reel them in and put a lid on it, except I just can’t anymore. I’ve been a mess.
I try to go over my options with a clear mind and realize that they’re not great. I could try to pay as I go to get through the first semester without running out of cash, or I could ask Colton for help.
Fuck. These options suck harder than a prostitute attending a private party for the Bellevue Springs elite.
I remain curled up on the couch, just staring out the window until the early morning sun is peeking through and hitting me right in the eyes. I glance down at my phone and realize that I've been sitting here for nearly two hours.
My bladder is screaming at me and after waking up to find I’m not in his bed, I'm sure Colton would be worried, though it’s not like he’s blown up my phone yet.
I pull myself off the couch but as I go, a cramp tears through my lower stomach and I groan in pain, instantly dropping back down onto the couch. Either my bladder is really, really full, and is now angry with me or I’m finally getting my period.
I’ve suffered from PCOS and have had irregular periods since I first hit puberty and to be completely honest, it freaking sucks. Other women have it so much worse than me and it completely affects their lives. Me, I just have to put up with not knowing when my period will come. Sometimes it’s right on schedule and will be there every month, other times, I could go for six months without it. It’s been a solid three months since my last one but I’m really not surprised. I'm sure all the stress and bullshit I’ve been through lately also has something to do with that.