Starless Nights (Hale Brothers Series Book 2) (28 page)

I watch her for what feels like hours and eventually roll over onto my back to stare up at the stars. Immediately, the summer triangle comes into view. Focusing in on Vega, the fifth brightest star, I remember that the constellation Lyra also has a Ring Nebula. A ring. Only this ring doesn’t mean a coming together, it’s coming apart. It represents the death of a star, and as it burns out, it expels a ring of glowing gas.

My heart frowns, because all this does is remind me that no matter what, everything ends.

I have to get up and walk away from her. I can’t lie here, go to sleep, and be hopeful that she’ll be here in the morning. I know that if I stay, she won’t be. And after tonight, it’ll destroy me. It’s literally the worst feeling in the world to always be reminded that I just don’t mean enough to her. It’s not that I’m looking to hurt her because I’m not. And it’s not that I don’t care for her because I do. I care too much. But at some point I have to think about me.

Maybe she would want me to stay, or maybe she wouldn’t. After the last couple of mornings that we’ve had together, she just might be relieved to wake up and find me not here. I can only hope that it’s not the opposite. Then again, she’s leaving tomorrow. What good would come of her having a change of heart now . . . nothing.

As the sun’s glow slowly begins to light up the sky, I very carefully move away from her. I’m afraid if I lie here much longer, she’ll wake, but there was no way I was going to leave her out here by herself in the dark.

Unbuttoning and slipping off the shirt that I have on over my T-shirt, I gently lay it on top of her. It’s not really cool out but it isn’t warm either. Who knows, maybe she’ll hang on to this shirt to remember me.

Stepping back away from her, my chest tightens to the point of aching. I shove my hands into my pockets and my eyes blur with tears. She’s leaving today and with her she takes my heart. I don’t know when I will see her again, if ever. Yes, she and Ali are friends but people change and drift apart. I know that there’s a good possibility that she’ll meet someone new, and she’ll store me away with all of her other past memories.

A memory, that’s what I’ll become.

This was goodbye. I now see that’s what she was trying to say. Goodbye is what last night was all about and I have no regrets. Well, maybe I wish that I would have held her a little tighter for just a little longer.

As I’m watching her, she stirs. Any minute now she’ll wake and I know it’s time for me to go.

One by one, tears begin to roll down my face. In my heart, I tell her that I’ll always love her and I’ll miss her indefinitely.

Turning away, I will my feet to move, placing one in front of the other. The coolness of the morning sand sinks between my toes and I involuntarily shiver. Thinking back to the pain that I felt four years ago, the first time she left me, although this is different, it hurts just as much.

“SO, WHAT ARE we doing this weekend?” Charlie asks me as he flops down on the couch and flips on the T.V.

Living with him, kind of reminds me of living with my dad. As much as Charlie loves fashion and design, he’s completely all dude. ESPN Sports Center blares throughout the room. He turns down the volume and tosses the remote down next to him.

“Nothing, I picked up a few shifts at the café,” I say as I load our breakfast dishes in the dishwasher.

Charlie and I hunted for this apartment for almost two months. We wanted to be close to school, so that didn’t leave us very many blocks to comb through.

This apartment we finally found is off of MacDougal. It’s not much but it works for us. All of the units in this building are mostly filled with college students being that it’s across the street from NYU. It kind of reminds me of last year’s dorm life, only it’s a little quieter.

“Why?”

“Because I need the money. I spent more than I should have on materials for the fashion show and now I’m paying for it, pun intended.”

“You know, I bet if you looked into the details of your scholarship you might find that it includes things like supplies. I know that most include textbooks, so why wouldn’t fabric and thread be included as well?”

“You might be right. I never did try to figure out all of the fine details. I’ll have to drop by the administrations building later this afternoon.”

“So, how’s the man?” Charlie smirks at me.

A blush rises up into my cheeks at the mention of Beau.

“He’s good,” I say walking into the living room to join him on the couch.

“That’s it? That’s all you’re going to give me?”

“There’s not really much to tell yet.”

“But you’ve spent a lot of time with him.” He phrases this as a statement, but it could be a question too.

“I know. He says he’s making up for lost time in the date department.”

“Well, that’s romantic.” He smiles at me again.

“I think so. He even bought me those flowers over there.” I point to the new white orchid plant sitting in the window. As much as I love purple, I’m glad that he bought white. It feels fresh, clean, and new, just like us. The plan is to keep it inside during the winter, and next to the window. We’ll see if it lasts or not.

“Every day I like him more and more.”

“Me too.”

“So, have you asked him yet?”

Without realizing it, my hands fall to my lap and I start ringing my fingers. The thought of bringing up the past with Beau makes me nervous.

“No, we haven’t talked about any of it.” I pause looking back at the orchid plant. “Things have been going so well between us. He’s talking to me, wanting to spend time with me, and I’m learning all about who he is now. I’m afraid that if I bring it up, it’ll remind him of why he didn’t want to be with me in the first place, and it could ruin everything.

“You should ask him soon. The longer you spend time with him, the more whatever he has to say could hurt you. Besides, whatever he says, it may actually sway you on how you feel about him. Wouldn’t you rather know?”

“Some days I think yes, I would like to know why he felt I didn’t even deserve a goodbye, but then there are others, when everything feels so perfect and right, and I just don’t want to pop that bubble.”

“Leila, based on the things you’ve told me, you shouldn’t be worrying about it popping, it’s going to explode.”

I frown at him and he looks back at the T.V.

“Oh! Did you see that? He didn’t just tackle that guy he crushed him!”

Charlie has always loved football, but Beau’s friend Nate told us in passing at Ali’s party, that his brother Reid plays in the NFL for Jacksonville, and this, of course, made Charlie’s night. When we got home later that evening, we watched YouTube clips of him playing, and Charlie became an instant fan.

“You really could just sit here and watch this all day, couldn’t you?”

“You know it.”

Shaking my head at him, I get up and walk over to our kitchen table where my things are. “Well, I’m off to class.”

“Grab a coat. There’s some weather moving in.”

“Thanks . . . see you later.”

The admissions office is busy today.

After I walked in, I was told to take a number and have a seat. I sat here for an hour before I was called up, only to be told that I would have to wait even longer because the finance department was in a meeting. Normally I wouldn’t have minded, but I needed to get into the studio and get started on my end of the semester project. The fashion show took up a lot of my time, and although a few of my professors were sympathetic to this, others were not.

Two hours later, I’m called into another office at the end of the hall, and I’m slightly angry.

“Good afternoon Ms. Starling. I hear you have a few questions about the details of your scholarship,” says a very chipper lady behind the counter.

“Yes. I’m wondering what it covers. I know that my classes and books are paid for, and last years housing, but does it include supplies too?”

“Well, let me pull your account and we’ll take a look.”

She jots down my social security number and I watch as she walks into another room and begins typing on her computer. Her eyebrows shoot up. She glances at me as she walks to a filing cabinet and pulls out a red folder.

“Okay Ms. Starling, I’m not sure why this wasn’t reviewed and given to you sooner but I guess now is better than never. You did receive a scholarship but it is untraditional.”

“What does that mean?”

She lays the folder on the counter between the two of us and looks me right in the eyes. “It means that all of your expenses are paid for through a benefactor.”

A benefactor?
I only applied for scholarships through large corporations. I didn’t seek out individual help. Maybe some board member from one of the companies liked my essay and took an interest.

“Is this common?” I ask her.

“We have had a few of these over the years. Usually it’s a past alumni that wants to sponsor a student. Didn’t they tell you when you were accepted that all expenses were paid for?”

“Yes, this is why I haven’t received any bills from the school.”

“You are correct, but you shouldn’t have paid for anything. Your benefactor has provided you with a credit card. I’m not sure why it wasn’t sent to you, but here it is.” She holds it up for me to see. “All of your school related expenses, including cost of living, on campus or off, are to be charged to this card.”

“What? But that’s crazy. How did I get picked for this?” Suddenly, the room feels warmer, my fingers begin to cramp, and I start rubbing them.

“I’m not so sure. Oh, wait a minute, actually it says here that the benefactor asked for you specifically.”

“Who is it?” I have to know who did this so I can thank them.

“We aren’t supposed to disclose that information. If the benefactor wanted you to know then they would have told you.” The woman watches me closely. “Here’s your credit card. You know you are one very lucky girl.”

Without even thinking, instead of grabbing the card I snatch the folder from her and take a step back away from the counter, and out of her reach.

“Now, you give that back to me this instant!” Several papers slip out of the folder and fall to the floor. I bend over to pick them up and glance at the top one. It’s a bank funds transfer receipt to the school from a Mr. B. Hale.