I glance at the clock again. I’ve been in here a full hour.
“I can’t. I mean…” I try to blink through the onslaught of thoughts and scenarios that are drowning me. “I have two years left.” Of freedom. I remind him. “Two years left before my life becomes living out of a suitcase and always being on the road. I want this time.”
“I understand, but you need to be ready, and that involves starting now.”
“Dad…” I start, not even sure where I planned for the words to end because right now it seems pointless as I see the sheath of papers he produces from his briefcase, contracts from different universities around England, universities I’d been expected to attend.
“When?” I ask.
“Now. We leave in an hour.”
“Now? I have friends staying at the hotel. My car…”
He waves a hand. “I’ll have Phil arrange flights for them and for someone to get your car and have it shipped back to Miami.”
“Dad, I can’t—”
His look silences me. “I’ve feared you can’t for a very long time. You need to decide here and now, can you do this job or not? It’s that simple.”
“I have to talk to her first. I can’t leave without explaining this to her.”
He clenches his jaw, his frown growing pronounced. Clearly this wasn’t what he’d wanted to hear.
Chloe
Nessie pulls me toward the champagne and grabs two more flutes, passing one to me. “Did you try those sweet onion bites?” she asks. “Caramelized something or other? Whatever they’re called, they’re delicious. I might need to brush my teeth five times so I don’t have onion breath, but at this point, I’m considering it worth it.” She’s rambling, her pity becoming more apparent as the night wears on.
Cooper stayed at the hotel, claiming he wasn’t feeling well, though we both know that was a lie. And Tyler still hasn’t shown up or called.
“What’s this?” Nessie asks, pointing at a large screen.
“An all-sky camera,” I tell her. “It’s what a telescope is seeing. That’s our solar system.”
Nessie pulls her chin back with surprise. “Seriously?”
I nod. “See that bright dot over here?” She nods. “It’s Jupiter, and this is Saturn,” I tell her, pointing to a smaller glowing ball beside it. “And over here is Mars. If it were cloudy, this would be a way to see the meteor shower, but since it’s clear, we’ll be able to see it outside. But this shows how far each meteor travels and the trajectory to ensure it’s from Perseids because they should all have the same radiant point.”
“Maybe I can get some extra credits if you just keep sharing more information on our way back to Brighton?”
I scoff. This event allows me to flex and show off what I know about space, but Nessie is incredibly bright and talented.
“I’m serious,” she says. “We need to figure out how it could fit into accounting so I can make a case for this with my advisor.”
“Maybe we can share tips on how to file taxes while also discussing space on our travel show?”
Nessie grins. “See? You’re warming up to the idea. I knew you would.”
I laugh, but it’s fleeting, too many of my thoughts are still tied to Tyler’s absence as I carry the gift bag he’d told me to grab. “What do I do with this thing?” I ask.
Nessie licks her lips, looking around the observatory again. It’s beginning to thin as more people go outside to find a seat in the grass. We’ve heard the speeches, the history of the Perseids meteor, and the added and unnecessary fact of it being one of Earth’s greatest threats that had us missing the next speech as I quietly worked to assure Nessie that the chances of it ever hitting Earth were so minimal that she didn’t need to worry. “You should open it.” She nods as though trying to convince both of us that it’s the right idea.
“Let’s go outside. We can open it out there and find a place to sit.”
She nods, finishing her champagne as we move toward the doors, setting the empty glass on a tray.
A man enters as we attempt to step out, causing us all to stop as we nearly crash into one another. We share apologies as we each quickly assess that the other is fine, but when I meet his face, his brows are drawn. “Are you Chloe Robinson?”
I nod, working to place him.
He offers his hand. “I’m Dr. Morgan, from the University of Virginia. I thought I recognized you from your application.”
Dread fills me. The door is steps away, and now I’m about to have another truth rock my world.
“I was so disappointed you couldn’t join us this year. I hope that we hear more from you, though.” Someone behind us calls him by name, and he looks beyond me before excusing himself.
Nessie’s stare is heavy and as loud as a scream as I turn to face her and the aftermath of his words that have revealed another lie, this one not entirely by omission. “You were accepted?” she asks, her voice loud and filled with accusation.
“Yes, but—”
She shakes her head. “You lied to me.” The pain in her words makes my chest ache, but it’s the betrayal in her eyes that destroys me.
“I know,” I tell her. “But I knew you’d try talking me into it.”
Her brow knits as she stares at me. “Of course, I would. Attending this program was your dream.”
“I didn’t want to go,” I tell her.
She shakes her head again, dismissing my words. “I can’t believe you lied to me.”
“Ness…”
Her lips purse as she looks at me, anger vast and endless in her green eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I wasn’t ready to leave this year. I didn’t want to go.”
“But you lied to me about it.”
“I know, and I’m sorry. I should have told you. I just knew after talking about this for so long, you would try and convince me to go.”
“You’re damn right I would have. Because you should be going.”
I stare at her for several minutes, silently pleading with her to understand or listen, but with each second that passes, her eyes become more closed off, and her anger burns brighter. “Cooper was right. I should have stayed with him tonight.”
My heart aches as she delivers the final punch and then spins on a heel and moves toward the door.
She’s right. I crossed a line—the line. Honesty has always been our shared rule. Regardless of boys or jobs or school, we have always had each other and have been able to depend on the other, to be honest.
I follow her outside, calling her name several times, but she doesn’t slow down as she heads in the direction of the parking lot where I know she’s already calling for a ride. The lawn is covered with individuals and groups who are preparing to watch the meteor shower, and for the first time in as long as I can recall, I don’t care about seeing the meteor shower or hearing any of the data they’ll be sharing.
As I turn back to move to the parking lot, I’m unsure about whether I’ll stay or go, only certain that I need to try talking to Nessie again and make sure she’s not standing over there alone because regardless of my proclamation to be unaffected by Ricky, I am. When a man stares too long or walks too close, Ricky is my first thought—my only thought. And I hate the idea of her standing over there alone or possibly with another Ricky.