He brought my hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. Tingles went up my arm.
“As if my silly night could trump your experiences lately, anyway.”
“I need to … Wait … What?” My experiences lately? What did that mean? My mind raced back to what he’d said earlier when I said money was my least favorite topic: Yeah, I’d imagine. And earlier he’d said for those of us worried about it. Meaning, he knew I wasn’t worried about money. And when talking about college, he’d also implied I could just jump on an airplane whenever I wanted. I just thought he was saying it could be closer if I needed it to be, to comfort me, but he meant that literally. Even the other day when we had talked about lightning strikes he’d said something odd about me not testing my luck. And now, he was saying this. He knew. Dread poured down my body, drowning every good feeling from before.
“You know,” I said.
The light from the projector lit the tips of his hair. “Know what?”
“Seth, you know what I’m talking about.”
His eyes went down to our linked hands, then back up to my eyes. I untangled my hand from his and pulled a pillow to my chest, as if that would keep my heart safe. Everything was about to change.
“You weren’t saying anything, so I thought it made you uncomfortable,” Seth said at last, his voice quiet. “You were still the same Maddie to me.”
I nodded slowly. He knew and I was still the same Maddie to him. This was a good thing, right? Not a bad one. He knew and he still liked me. We didn’t have to have any more secrets. I let the pillow drop. The bottom of his T-shirt was brushing along my knee so I tugged on it a little.
He moved an inch closer. “I figured you were tired of talking about money. I’m sure it’s all you talk about anymore with people. And then I was burdening you with my family money issues and college drama. I guess I just figured you’d talk about the whole lottery thing when you wanted to.” He looked down at my finger that had a section of his T-shirt wrapped around it. “We’re good, right?” He kissed one of my cheeks, then the other.
The tension in my body was slowly draining when his words caught up to me. Family money issues. College drama. I let go of his shirt. “You need money.”
“What?”
“You need money. For college.”
“Yes. I do.”
“And you want it from me.”
“Yes, I— Wait … No!” He sat up on the edge of the car, taking one of my hands with him.
“How much do you need?” I was tired. I was tired of my friends all wanting something from me. Of strangers wanting things from me. Of family wanting things from me. Maybe if everyone was just up-front about it, I wouldn’t be so tired.
“I don’t want your money, Maddie.”
I tugged my hand free. “Don’t you? You’ve been talking about how you can’t afford to go to college for weeks now. Setting the stage. Now is the time you go in for the kill, right?”
His mouth opened, then shut. “I’m not allowed to talk to you about my problems?”
“I didn’t hear anything about these problems before I won the lottery.”
“That’s because we didn’t know each other very well.”
I stood up, the pillows falling to the floor between us. “Isn’t that convenient for you?” I climbed over the side of the car and made my way along the tracks toward the Farm. The farther I got away from the train, the darker it became. I tripped several times, unable to see clearly. I was halfway back to the zoo entrance when it occurred to me that I had no car.
I pulled out my phone and dialed. “Beau,” I said when he answered.
“Yes?”
“Come get me. I’m at the zoo.” Then I hung up.
“Maddie,” Seth called from behind me. “Will you just stop and listen for a second?”
I whirled around. “How long have you known?”
“My mom saw you on the news. She was so excited about a local teenager winning that she recorded it and asked if I knew you.”
“So you knew the whole time?”
“Why does that change anything?”
“Here’s the thing. Maybe you’re telling the truth about it not changing anything. Maybe you’re lying. I have no way of knowing. My own uncle swindled me out of half a million dollars. My best friends sold me out to a reporter for a few bucks … or maybe you did.”
“What? No. Of course I didn’t.”
“People are only my friends because of what I can do for them. I have no idea who to trust anymore.”
He took me by the shoulders and looked into my eyes. “Trust me. Trust this.” He kissed me. My body instantly reacted to him even though my brain was all over the place. I leaned in, answered back. Then just as quickly, I pushed away and ran.
My brother came screeching into the zoo parking lot. He was driving my car. It was the last thing I needed to see—a visual of how people were using me. When he stopped next to me, I walked around to the driver’s side and yanked open the door.
“Out.”
“I thought you’d want to sit in luxury and not in my crappy car.”
“You should’ve asked me.”
“I should buy a new car. Or maybe you should buy me a new car.”
“Out,” I growled.
Beau got out and I climbed in, so tempted to drive away without him. But I managed to control that temptation.
“Someone’s in a bad mood tonight,” Beau said, getting into the passenger seat. “Did you forget you were a multimillionaire? That would keep me happy for years.”
“Be honest with me, are you in debt again?” I asked him, ignoring his stupid comments.
“What do you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean. Did you manage to spend a million plus?”
“How much have you spent?”
So that meant yes. I sighed. “I haven’t spent all my money, Beau. That’s the point.” I stomped on the gas, blazing through the parking lot. The feel of the car vibrating beneath me only seemed to fuel my rage. I saw Seth’s car in the rearview mirror and pressed down the pedal even farther.
“Maddie, slow down. You’re scaring me.”
I did, my eyes filling with tears. I needed to stop crying or I wouldn’t be able to drive.
“What happened to you?” he asked.
“I got a huge dose of reality.”
“Maddie, don’t let this jade you. You’re too sweet.”
“It’s too late, Beau. Way too late.”
To add ultimate insult to injury, my week ended in the worst way possible. It came in the form of a little white envelope the next day. And inside that envelope were words that ripped out my heart.
We regret to inform you that UCLA has reversed the decision on your application. While your grades and community service have been stellar, our university also prides itself on students with upstanding character. Due to recent events that have been brought to our attention, we feel that you do not fit our standards at this time. Please feel free to reapply in the following calendar year and we will reassess your application.
I read and re-read the letter, trying to make sense of it. While on the surface it seemed like a form letter that many others had probably received, it also felt like a letter that only applied to me. Two things were hanging me up. The line: Reversed the decision. And: Events that have been brought to our attention. Reversed the decision. Did that mean I had been accepted at one point? And if something was brought to their attention, did that mean someone had informed them? Or they had seen the article. Had they seen the article? Were other colleges going to see the article, too?
I quickly pulled up the article on my computer. I hadn’t looked at it in a while and in my absence it had blown up. Hundreds of comments. Thousands of shares.
UCLA had seen this article.
A text came through on my phone. It was from Blaire. Our last acceptance letter! Congrats!
It was the first text I’d gotten from Blaire since our chat at school several days earlier where she accused me of trying to be popular. Was this her way of mending things between us? Or was this her way to make herself feel better about what she’d done? Whatever it was, it was definitely her telling me that she and her upstanding character had gotten into UCLA. My school.