“There was a pathway for her to go to college.”
“Great, I’ll pay for it if that’s what it takes. If what she really wants is to be here, I’ll give her an anonymous scholarship.”
“It’s not that simple,” Sofia says.
“But itisan option, right?”
She lets out a breath. “It is, for those who want it bad enough. Lola doesn’t. What you have to understand is that children brought here under age can go to college on their own dime, with zero financial aid. And they have to be so above perfect, so ahead of the curve, it’s not a real option for most.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s a long legal process. Those kids live holding their breath, while at the same time keeping ridiculous grades for a small shot at the few merit scholarships theyareeligible for. It’s very competitive. They can’t get in trouble at all, they can’t be kids when they’re in college. They have to be models of society to warrant taking up space in a way that the rest of us don’t. The bar is set so much higher for them, when they did nothing to deserve such a prejudgment of their character.”
“Lola could do it.”
Sofia laughs. “Of that, I have no doubt. If she wanted it. If she’d had a specific career goal in mind, she probably would have. But undecided dreamers aren’t the best candidates for that pathway. Do you think they’d view an aspiring metal guitarist as the model of society I mentioned?” she asks, a brow arched. “People who go through that process want it bad enough to make all the sacrifices worth it. Not Lola though. She is so hurt by not being wanted here. You’ve heard her say that by now, I’m sure—”
I nod. “Yeah. I have.”
“Wouldyouwant to be where you’re not wanted? If you had a choice?”
I shake my head. Fuck. This is so complicated. No wonder she was so angry with her parents. They hid this from her until . . . until it was too late.
“Lola has a choice. A beautiful one. One with a fresh start, her own business, and her only living family. As much as it breaks my heart for her to leave, I’m so excited for the future she’s chosen. She’s one of the lucky ones, to have an option like that. She’ll do great when she’s home. And even from afar, I’ll always be there to catch her if she falls.”
I swallow hard, but it lodges heavy in my throat. I can’t fix this.
I can throw all my money at the problem to help her stay—and I would, every last cent if that’s what it took—and she wouldn’t want it, because if there’s one thing I know in my marrow, it’s that you can’t force yourself to be wanted by anyone.
“Well, I don’t want to wake her. But tell her I was here and have her call me when she wakes up. I’m sure Ileana will be worried too, so she should probably call her first.”
We stand, and Sofia embraces me for a long moment before she leaves.
I sneak into Lola’s bed and watch her sleep, a million thoughts racing through my mind. Lola isn’t out much longer after that, and when she wakes up, I smile at her from the spot next to her.
“Feeling better?” I ask.
“Yeah. Sorry for crying all over you.”
“I’m always here for you. You know that, right?”
She nods. “What do we do now?”
“I sent Roger a statement he can give to the press if he wants. Made it clear you didn’t know and that you have plans to move soon.”
“Thank you.”
I brush her hair away from her face. “You know what I love most about rock?”
“What’s that?” she asks.
“It’s for the rejects. I found my home with metalheads. Whenever I was feeling lonely or left behind, I’d show up at a concert, any concert, and I felt . . . embraced, I guess.”
“I never thought about it like that.”
“I grew up feeling that way, Lo. I got really good at being comfortable with rejection. You didn’t. One day your life was perfect—you were loved by your parents, had a bright future, aspirations. The rug was just . . . pulled out from under you in so many freaking ways at the same time.”
“What’s it like? Getting used to rejection so deep?”