He drums his fingers against the base of his mug. “You should probably open it,” he says.
I drop the envelope onto the table. “And you should probably just tell me what’s really going on here.”
Braxton pauses to sip from his coffee. It’s the equivalent of a slow, monotonous drumroll, only it doesn’t work. I’d just as soon finish my breakfast and leave without ever knowing what he’s about to reveal.
Replacing his mug on the table, he says, “You’ve been accepted into Gray Wolf Academy.” He waits, like he’s expecting me to be grateful or something.
“Yeah, no thanks.” I stab another forkful of buttermilk pancake and lift it to my mouth. Taking great satisfaction in the way Braxton stares at me in shock.
“Why would you say that when you don’t know the first thing about it?” he asks.
I chew thoughtfully, as though I’m giving the question my full consideration. Dabbing my lips with a paper napkin, I say, “Because I’m not interested.” I slide the envelope toward him and watch as he blinks in confusion. Like I’m the one who’s wandered off script and he’s not sure how to get the scene back on track. “Sounds like a school for nerds.”
He stares at me, incredulous, speechless. I decide I like him better that way.
“Well, okay then,” he finally says. “While the choice is ultimately yours, before you make the sort of decision that can’t be undone, would you at least hear me out?”
“And if I don’t?” I place my fork on my plate, curl my napkin into a ball, and drop it there, too. “If I just get up from this table, walk right out of here, and pretend I never heard of you, Arthur, or your ridiculous Wolf academy—then what?”
Not missing a beat, he says, “Then you’d be exercising your right to free will.” His navy-blue gaze sweeps over mine. “But, as you’ve so recently learned, there are consequences to your choices. And if you walk out now, you risk missing out on the kind of opportunity that can change your whole life. Not to mention, your mum already said yes.”