We’d promised to open our letters from Waverly University at the same time, at the coffee shop. I’d gotten my letter a day before Olivia did. I’d given it to her to hold on to, in case I couldn’t handle the temptation and opened it without her. Hers had come that morning, and we sat staring at each other, our mugs of coffee forgotten on the table.
If I didn’t get in, I’d go with her anyway and get a part-time job. We’d live somewhere close to campus. If she didn’t get in and I did, well, that was a bit trickier. She swore she’d apply again, but it meant waiting another year. I’d take university classes, register for real, and think about working toward something, maybe an English degree. It would mean working at the store for another year, which I wasn’t crazy about. If we both got into Waverley, I’d be able to escape. After everything that had happened with Georgia, being somewhere new, where no one knew who I was, would be good.
I didn’t talk to Georgia. I know Dizzy did. After a conversation, she’d get this glowy look on her face, which made me kind of sick, to be honest. Warning bells rang constantly. Dizzy was vulnerable, and I didn’t want her to fall in love with the idea of a mom she’d never have. Georgia had a life separate from ours. We were still nothing more than Shadow Children.
Olivia passed me my envelope. It wasn’t thick, which I thought was a bad sign, but Olivia said that was just in the movies. The acceptance letter looked the same as the rejection letter. The Waverley University emblem was embossed on the top corner. “Ready?” she said.
My stomach twisted. Please let her get in, I prayed. If it’s between the two of us, give it to her.
She ripped into the corner of the envelope and I did the same, slicing across it until the top was open. We pulled out our letters and looked at each other across the table, then we unfolded them. I didn’t look at my letter, I watched Olivia. She gasped, closed her eyes, and tilted her face to the ceiling. “I got in,” she whispered, her chin trembling. “I got in!” Tears welled in her eyes. I pushed my chair aside and came to her chair, bending down so I could kiss her.
“I knew you would.”
“Oh my god! I can’t believe it.” She was shaking. “What about you?” she asked, laughing and crying at the same time. She looked at my letter, lying on the table, still folded. “Did you get in?”
“I don’t know.” I laughed. “I haven’t checked.”
She wiped her tears and reached for the letter, handing it to me. “So?”
“Dear Mr. Lou Doucette, we are pleased to inform you…” it began. I grinned at her. “I’m not so easy to get rid of.”
Professor Addison’s class passed in a blur. Every time I caught Olivia’s eye, we shared an excited smile. It felt like a whole world was opening up; the path forward shiny and bright. There were no twinges of doubt. I’d never felt so sure about anything in my life.
Olivia and I went out to celebrate. Olivia giggled and snuggled against me and I kissed the top of her head, pride flowing through me. It was just like in The Elders of Warren when Aldred is released from his prison and he walks through the gates of Dromor. The whole kingdom lies in front of him, his future wide open to make it what he wants it to be.
When it was time to go home, I’d insisted on walking her to her door. “I’ll have to meet your mom, you know. If we’re going to get a place together.”
“I know,” Olivia said. “But not tonight. It’s late.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Okay. Let me tell her first about getting into med school.” There was a song in her voice when she said it. “I can’t wait to see the look on her face.”
“I knew you could do it,” I said and leaned down to give her a long, deep kiss that I hung on to the whole walk home.
Dizzy was still awake when I came home, sitting on her bed with a textbook in front of her. “Homework?”
“Yeah.” She grimaced. “Science test.” School had been hard for her. Kids had talked to reporters, lies mostly, making things up so they’d get some attention. Others had slipped mean notes into her locker. Nothing she couldn’t handle, but still. I hated that kids were being shitty to her.
“Where were you?”
“Celebrating.”
“Celebrating what?”
I took the letter out of my backpack and held it out to her. She stretched across her bed to take it. “What is it?”
“An acceptance letter. To Waverley University.”
She looked at me like it was a joke. “For you?”
“Yes, for me.” I laughed.
“But, you never said anything about —” Her eyes went from me to the letter. “Where is Waverley? Is it far?”
“A few hours away. Olivia got in, too. Med school. She’s so pumped. It was her third time applying.” I ran a hand over my head. I’d let my hair grow out a little and the curls stood up in a tousled mess.
“You’re going away?”
“Yeah.”
“But, what about the store? And Dad? Did you tell him?”
“Not yet.”
“God, Lou.” Dizzy leaned back on the wall behind her bed, eyes wide with shock.
“Did you think I was going to stay around here forever?” I asked gently. After everything she’d been through the last weeks, I didn’t want to upset her, not on purpose, anyway.
“I just — I never thought you’d leave, you know? And right now, it’s so —” She broke off and looked hopelessly at the books in front of her. “I don’t want you to go.” A new thought dawned on her; I saw it cross her face a second before she said it. “Is it because of me? Of what happened with Georgia?”
“No, I’d applied before any of the stuff with Georgia happened. It’s got nothing to do with her. Or you. I’m ready for something else, I guess. Anyhow, Jeremy will still be here. He’s got another year of graphic design school. It’s not like I’m moving to Australia. I’ll be back at breaks.”
“It’s not the same as having you around all the time.”
“Things don’t stay the same, Dizz. No matter what.”
Dizzy pursed her lips, like it wasn’t the answer she wanted to hear, but she knew it was true. “You’re still coming tomorrow night, right?”
“Course. Liv is, too.” Our first Friday Night Spin since the story broke. I knew Dizzy was itching to get behind the turntables. She’d been downstairs on her own, practising at night when the reporters had left. It had been a long time since she’d spun in front of a crowd. When I looked at my sister now, I could tell she’d grown up. Leaving was going to be hard, for both of us, but I knew she’d be okay. She was a Doucette, after all.