“It’s fine,” I said, sitting up and blinking back tears. I gathered my letters and slipped off the stool. “I’ll apply for financial aid and see which scholarships are still open.”
“Violet, wait,” Dad said. “I know I screwed up, but please talk to me.”
My heart wanted to break. I’d never seen my big, strong dad so defeated. It scared me to the bone. And I knew there was more he wasn’t telling me.
I held up the letters. “This sucks and it’s disappointing, but I can deal with it. But you never gave me a chance to prepare because you haven’t been honest with me. Not about the money, or about you and Mom.”
“I know. But it’s…complicated. The last thing we want to do is hurt you.”
I wanted to tell him every time they fought, it hurt. Every time they shattered a glass or slammed a door, it hurt. But Miller had shouted at them for me and nothing had changed.
“I’m tired,” I said, swallowing my tears. “Soccer practice was long.”
“Okay. Goodnight, Violet,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
Not so long ago, I’d have wanted to rush to him, hug him, cry on his shoulder about all of it. About Miller. Like I used to when I was little. Back when he and Mom had been happy. Before they’d both turned into people I no longer recognized.
But I left without another word and went to my room. I was becoming unrecognizable to myself.
At school the next day, I went through the motions, kept my head down. Despite what I’d told Dad about being tired, I stayed up late applying for financial aid and researching scholarship deadlines for each of the schools I’d been accepted to and then emailed my counselor for an emergency meeting that afternoon.
I was on my way to that meeting and nearly crashed into Evelyn Gonzalez.
“Hey, girl,” she said, with a winning—triumphant smile. “Long time, no see. You’ve been so busy. I feel like it’s been ages since we hung out.”
I met her gaze with a steely one of my own. “Is that what happened? Or were you embarrassed to be seen with the girl who got stood up by the captain of the football team in front of the entire school?” I didn’t let her reply. “Speaking of Homecoming, were you ever going to tell me you stole the video of Miller off my phone?”
“Wow, hostile much? What happened to sweet Snow White? And anyway, I didn’t steal anything. You posted that video on the internet. It’s a free-market economy.”
I crossed my arms. “That’s not exactly how it works but okay. What about you deleting my YouTube account?”
“It was in the way. What’s your problem, anyway? I was doing Miller a favor. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m helping to make him a viral sensation. Not that it’s hard.” She touched her tongue to her lower lip. “He really is a beautiful specimen of a man.”
I stiffened and an ugly feeling surged in my blood. “I’m aware of his sudden popularity. I’ve seen the video I took on your vlog. Funny how you all treated him so badly right up until you thought you could get something out of him.”
“Possessive, are we? How cute. Don’t you want him to be a huge smash?”
“Of course, I do. But doing a fashion vlog doesn’t feel like his style. Or something he’d want.”
“It is now. He didn’t tell you?”
I braced myself. “Tell me what?”
“He’s been coming over to my house on Sundays. We’ve been staying up so late, working on new cover songs. He’s coming over to my house tonight, as a matter of fact. So, maybe you were once the expert on what he wants but…not so much anymore.” She twiddled her fingers. “See ya!”
I watched her go—beautiful, smart, and always focused like a laser on getting exactly what she wanted.
It’s none of my business, I thought, drawing deeper into myself. He won’t talk to me. He’s not mine. We’re impossible.
“The timeline isn’t great,” my counselor, Ms. Taylor, said, peering over my scholarship research. “And UCSC doesn’t offer much unless it’s for low-income families, which we’re still not entirely sure you qualify for. Have you heard back about any of the merit-based scholarships?”
“Not yet. But I’ll make up whatever I need to in financial aid.”
Ms. Taylor took off her half-moon glasses and sat back. “This has to be incredibly disappointing for you, Violet.”
I gave her a wan smile. “First world problems, right? Mommy and Daddy can’t pay for my fancy school.”
She frowned. “I don’t need to tell you that being burdened with debt is incredibly stressful, no matter who or why. It’s the tragic reason why thousands of young people avoid college altogether. You had a free path and now you don’t. It’s okay to feel upset about that.”