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For the last seventeen years, I’ve been dependable, reliable…and predictable.
Failing to submit my essay on time would certainly be a change of pace.
Not to mention…stupid.
I’ve wanted to go to Duke’s Heart for as long as I can remember. I’m not going to ruin my shot because I’m feeling sorry for myself.
That’s not who I am.
I need to pull on my big girl panties and tackle this.
I need to stop being scared of the unknown.
If they don’t accept me, it’s their loss.
Panic lodges in my throat. Oh, God. What if they don’t accept me?
Or worse? What if they do accept me, but don’t offer me a scholarship and free housing?
They accepted Dylan—and technically, her grades were worse than mine since she ended up with a B+ in social studies—but that was last year.
Things change.
Stop it, Sawyer.
There are people in the world who have no food, no place to live, and no family—in other words, real world problems—and I’m acting like my life will be over if I don’t get to go to my dream college on a free ride.
Like my father always tells me—entitlement is laziness wrapped up in selfishness. If you really want something, you have to work for it. Earn it.
And if you start losing faith…pray for it, because God will provide.
He may not give you exactly what you want, but he’ll always give you what you need.
Including the strength to weather the storm.
Even if that storm comes in the form of a six-foot-three, obnoxious, selfish asshole named Cole Covington.
Ripples of hurt laced with tiny bolts of rage tangle in my chest as I watch him in the hot tub.
His eyes are closed as he rests his head on the ledge, and for once he’s all alone.
To most people, he would look like the epitome of calm and peaceful.
However, I can’t help but notice the way his chest rises above the water every few seconds before sinking back down.
Like he’s ru
I guess we both have that in common.
No—I remind myself. We have nothing in common.
Unlike me, Cole intentionally hurts and uses people.
I turn, intending to head back inside so I can tell Bianca I want to go home.
“Get over here, Bible Thumper.”
I freeze at the sound of his voice.
“Please,” he says after another minute passes.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I spin back around. “Why?”
Did you make another stupid bet with your friends?
“Oh, come on, sweetness. I don’t bite.” Angling his head toward me, he gives me a lopsided smirk. “Unless you want me to.”
No, no, no. He doesn’t get to flirt with me like the bet he made with Cortland never happened.
Like he didn’t call me fat in front of the entire school.
Like he didn’t make me cry because I can’t fix him.
I’m marching the fifteen feet it takes to tell him off to his face when it suddenly occurs to me that Cole doesn’t know I know about the bet.