I mean, I figured I was completely over it, but the fact that the thought just popped into my head suggests otherwise.
“Wait,” Jackson says, the grin suddenly disappearing from his face. “Why would Noah be trying to convince you to apply for a scholarship? Why the hell aren’t you jumping at the opportunity?” I glance away, forgetting that Jackson has been able to read me like a map for years. “Ahhhh, you’re shit scared.”
My eyes instantly zone back in on his. “I’m not fucking scared,” I shoot back at him.
He watches me with a “Prove it, chicken.”
I resist smacking him in the face.
My scowl is sharp enough to cut glass. How dare he call me a chicken? Out of all the people in my life, he’s one of the few who know me well enough to know I’m no fucking chicken.
We continue staring each other down. “What’s holding you back, Henley?” I keep my mouth shut. Like hell I’m about to admit my insecurities and fears in front of a bunch of people I hardly know. But once again, he reads me like a fucking map. He lowers his voice to keep our conversation a little more private. “You can’t let the fear of failure dictate your life, babe.”
“I’m not.”
“You are. You’re terrified of getting your hopes up and then having some pretentious ass take it all away by saying that you’re not good enough. The kind of person who isn’t good enough is the kind of person not willing to give it a shot,” he says. “Do you really think I’d be here, winning fucking college games if I didn’t take a shot on myself and stayed on a losing team at Haven Falls? No fucking way. You don’t get what you want without working for it, Henley.”
“But…”
“No, don’t give me your fucking excuses. You’re applying for it whether or not you like it. If you get it, fucking awesome. If you don’t, search out your other options, but either way, you’re not going to fall into the Haven Falls stereotype. You’re going to be something, Henley. I can feel it.”
I roll my eyes. “Jesus,” I chuckle. “No need for the dramatics.”
“Yes, there is,” he tells me. “I can already see the fire growing in your eyes. You want to prove me wrong for calling you a chicken.”
“Challenge fucking accepted,” I laugh. “I ain’t no chicken.”
“Like I said,” he grins. “Prove it.”
And just like that, it looks like I’m going to need a brand new application form.
“Come on,” Jackson says, taking Elle’s hand and dropping his heavy arm over my shoulder. “Let me take you for a tour around campus. See if I can really change your mind.”
Tully loops her arm through mine and before I know it, we’re walking through campus, both of us in awe, realizing a future we never knew we wanted.
An hour later, we find ourselves at Tora’s place attending our first college party on a Thursday night of all nights. I mean, who the hell parties on a Thursday night?
The party flies by while Tully and I have the time of our lives. If Jackson’s lecture and the campus tour wasn’t enough to convince me that I should be applying for that scholarship, then this party certainly is.
Chapter 10
After drinking way too much to drive ourselves home, Jackson’s over the top, brotherly protectiveness comes shooting out as he ushers us out of Tora’s place and to his car. He even grabs Kaylah and hauls her out too, saying it’s way too late for her to be staying much longer on a school night. I mean, come on!
Jesse has a few choice words to say about Jackson’s protective tendencies, but he puts up a good fight and before we know it, even Jesse is walking out the door and heading for his Range Rover, offering to take Kaylah so Jackson doesn’t have to make too many stops.
I don’t know how Jackson does it. He must be some kind of kickass manipulator. I’m pretty sure he even had Jesse thinking it was his decision to head home, and believe me, I have a feeling Jesse has never left a party at this hour in his life. He’s generally the guy who’s still partying while people are waking up around him and getting the place cleaned up before their parents get home. I can only imagine what people must go through when it’s time to tell a guy like Jesse Ryder to go home.
Tully and I drop down into Jackson’s black Charger and I smile at all the fond memories I’ve had in this car. Jackson taught me how to drive a stick shift in this thing. Now, they are some memories that I should probably try to forget. Learning to drive wasn’t exactly the easiest thing. Dad was gone most of the time and so I basically taught myself in the old pick up truck. Believe me, it wasn’t pretty.