Dylan had threatened to open them. He was just so fucking excited for me; he wanted to start celebrating and was positive I’d gotten into all three med schools. But I’d applied to the toughest, most challenging programs in the country with the hardest acceptance requirements. There was a good chance I hadn’t gotten into any, and I didn’t have a backup plan. It was either one of these three or I wasn’t going at all.
That thought alone was enough to make my chest ache.
But that was also another reason why I’d waited. I didn’t want to be punched in the face on three different days. I wanted one hard smack, and then I’d move on.
I’d waited long enough.
It was time.
I slid my finger under each envelope flap and set the letters on top, still folded.
The first I opened was from UPenn, and I scanned a few sentences, congratulations immediately popping out at me.
“Fuck yes,” I whispered, my eyes closing as I processed what this meant.
The hard work, the long nights, the no sleep, the endless studying to get the best score I was capable of achieving on my MCATs.
All of it had paid off—at least for one of the schools.
I moved on to the next, Harvard’s emblem printed at the top of the paper. I held my breath, reading the beginning lines, not believing what I was seeing. Harvard had accepted me too. I went over the words once again, just to be sure, and was just as shocked the second time.
I picked up the last one. The one from my top choice, Johns Hopkins. Once I had it opened, my eyes jumped past the introduction, the answer italicized on the second line.
The paper fell from my hands, landing on my desk.
“Holy fucking shit,” I exhaled, staring at all three.
“I hope that’s a good holy fucking shit,” Pearl said from my doorway. She rushed in and wrapped her arms around my neck. “Sorry I’m late. I had a few questions for my professor, and then I ran into one of the girls from the play and …” Her voice trailed off as she picked up one of the letters. “Oh my God, is this what I think this is?” She held it up to her face, her eyes widening as she read. She quickly grabbed the other two papers from my desk, giving them a scan before shouting, “Ashe, holy fucking shit!” She threw herself down on my lap, hugging me against her. “I’m so incredibly, ridiculously proud of you.” Her lips were hovering over mine, hands framing my face. “You got into every school, just like I had known you would.”
“I can’t believe it.”
“I can.” She kissed me. “You work harder than anyone I know. You hardly sleep. You study and study and study even more.” She rubbed her nose over mine—something I loved to do to her. “If anyone deserves this, it’s you. Now, which one are you going to pick?”
I didn’t immediately answer, still trying to process what had just happened. “Man”—I took a breath—“I don’t know.”
She smiled, a light laugh coming out. “Yes, you do. Your dream school has always been Johns Hopkins.” Her arms tightened around my neck. “That’s where you’re going.”
“You’re right.”
“I know.” She giggled, and it was a sound I could inhale; it was so delicious.
We turned silent, the news still unraveling, my brain taking me to Baltimore, Maryland, where I would soon be living. I already knew that distance from New York—I’d looked it up long before I received those letters.
“I’ll be over three hours from you.” I stared into her eyes, assessing them. “I hate how little I see you now. I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like when I hardly see you at all.” I paused. “When you’re acting every night of the week and I’m drowning in a relentless workload.”
“I’ve tried not to let that weigh on me, but it has.”
“Baby …” The worry was so clear in her eyes. “You’ve been thinking about this too?”
She nodded. “I didn’t know where you’d end up, but I knew it wasn’t going to be in Manhattan.”
I brushed the hair out of her face, holding her stare steady. “I’ll have a car while I’m there. I’ll come see you every chance I get.”
“You’d better.”
“And when you have a few days off in a row, you can take the bus to come visit me.”
My suggestions didn’t relieve the look in her eyes. And I knew why. This was going to be different than anything we’d ever experienced. We were going to be in two different worlds with a hell of a lot of space between us, and it was going to test us in ways we hadn’t anticipated.
I could already feel the pull.
“It’s going to be all right,” I promised. “We’ll figure this out.” I held her cheek, making sure her eyes stayed on me. “We have to because I’m not letting you go.”
She buried her face in my neck, so I couldn’t see it, eventually breaking the silence with, “Let’s go out.”
“Where?”
She reached for the letter from Johns Hopkins and held it in the air. “Where we can celebrate this. You.” She kissed my cheek. “And the monumental moment that happened today.”
She stood from my lap, holding out her hands to help me rise from the chair. Once I was on my feet, I pulled her into my arms, gripping the back of her head to keep her close.
“I love you.” I breathed in the cinnamon, my eyes closing. “For every reason.”
“I love you more.”
I heard her words, but I didn’t believe them. It was impossible for her to have feelings that were stronger than the ones I felt right now.
Forty-Eight
After
Ashe
I stared at my phone while it rang, not wanting to answer the captain’s call, thinking of every goddamn excuse not to. Once I’d told her what happened with Dylan, she’d left me alone for three days, giving me the space I needed to be with Alix and his family. Not a single person in my life was holding it together, including myself. But if I didn’t answer her call now, it would be my ass.
I looked at the empty bottle of whiskey next to my bed, the dark room spinning as I sat up. I held the phone to my face, clearing my throat. “Flynn.”
“I don’t have time to ask how you’re doing. I’m calling to tell you I need you in Watertown as fast as you can get there.”
My hand stretched across my forehead, rubbing the top of it, and then raked through my hair. “I don’t know. I’m not in good shape—”
“Flynn, we found them.”
Them.
Her voice told me exactly who she was referring to.
Tamerlan and Dzhokhar Tsarnaev, the brothers who had bombed our city and killed my best friend.
My hand dropped, and my eyes shot open—I hadn’t realized I’d been keeping them closed. “Where?”
“I’m going to text you the information. Get there quickly. We’ll assign you once you arrive.”
A surge of adrenaline shot through my chest, my empty hand clenching the blanket, revenge building with each second that ticked. “I’ll leave in five minutes.”