CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

CHOCOLATE KISS

It poured on Sunday. The gutters became mini-rivers that created mini-fountains at the sewer grates.

Since I couldn’t be outside, I finally got to something I’d been putting off for a while—investigating colleges besides Virginia Tech and Brevard.

Mr. Rainey had suggested Duke. I would check it out, even if I remained more skeptical than he did.

NC State had good sports clubs, a ten-minute commute, and a gazillion stops on multiple bus routes. Susanna could get to me if I went to NCSU, but I really didn’t want to go there. It would have to be a last resort.

Raleigh had other universities, all private. I’d never been remotely curious about any of them. As far as my parents were concerned, showing a sudden interest in one of them would be too suspicious.

I needed to grow up about this. It was possible to travel home on the weekends from Brevard or Virginia Tech. Or she could come to me, if she ever got her license.

Newman was the in-between school. Smaller than Virginia Tech. Closer than Brevard. Good reputation. Great new mountain-biking coach. One thing was for sure. Newman was definitely on the list now. Yeah, perfect in every way, except that two-hundred-thirty mile drive.

I went to their website and clicked on Admission Requirements.

Damn. They required an essay and the prompt was painful: Describe your greatest achievement.

Why did colleges ask stuff like that? Most high school seniors were seventeen. After twelve years of attending school—a system that only worked well if we did exactly what they told us to do—what kind of achievements did colleges think we had?

Super-brilliant students had achieved interesting things.

Super-bad students had achieved interesting things.

Everybody else had to make stuff up. Actually, I had done something of huge value. My greatest achievement was rescuing an abused girl from the asshole who tortured her. Oh, yeah, and she was living in the eighteenth century at the time.

It was the best thing I’d ever done. It was the best thing I would ever do, and I couldn’t tell a soul.

The scent of warm chocolate tickled my nose. I twisted in my seat as Susanna entered the rec room on noiseless feet, a plate cradled in her hands.

She smiled at me, face flushed. Her hair hung down her back in a low ponytail, with wisps escaping to curl against her neck. She looked happy.

“I baked you a treat.” She set the plate carefully in my hand.

“It smells great.” The brownie was a tiny square, at least by my standards. Susanna still hadn’t figured out twentyfirst-century portion sizes.

“I tasted one first. It is delicious.” She sat cross-legged on a chair beside me. “What has given you this bemused look?”

I wolfed down the entire square in one bite and wanted more. “I’m thinking about applying to another college.”

“Which one?”

“Newman College.”

“Is it nice?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve never been there.”

Her brow scrunched up, like she was trying hard to take all of this in. “Do you not want to attend Virginia Polytechnic Institute?”

I controlled my smile. Susanna had been surfing the web. “It’s one of the places I’m considering.”

“Are you likely to be accepted?”

“I am.”

“Then why do you apply elsewhere?”

Because everybody did—which was an answer she would think was stupid. I needed a better one. “My guidance counselor recommended it.”

She watched me calmly, but her hands were clenched in her lap. “Where is this other college located?”

“Also in the mountains of Virginia.”

“How long would it take to drive there?”

“Four hours.”

“And the other one is about three?”

I nodded.

Understanding hummed through her body. I wouldn’t be here much longer. My first choice was far away, and I’d just told her my second choice was even farther. Unless I found a closer college that had everything I needed, this was how it was going to be. Right?

“When will you leave Raleigh?”

I set the plate down and then linked both of my hands with hers. “Next August. Ten months away. A lot can happen.”

She smiled shyly. “A lot can happen in two months.”

“I don’t want to be separated from you either.”

“By then, I shall have my identification. I will have options too.”

Susanna with options? I needed to wrap my brain around that. I’d been so focused on getting her an identity—and getting me into a college—that I hadn’t planned past either.

My phone buzzed on the desk. “Excuse me a second.” I extricated one of my hands, grabbed the phone, and put it on speaker. “Hey, Gabrielle. What’s up?”

“Did you take any photos of the last experiment?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“My images are all blurry. Could you forward what you took?”

Susanna stirred restlessly and tugged her hand from mine.

“Can you hold, Gabrielle?”

“Sure.”

Susanna had already stood and picked up the brownie plate. “I shall return to the kitchen,” she said, her voice low. “I have dishes to clean.”

“We’re not done, Susanna.”

“I know.” She leaned over me and kissed me—a hot, brief, chocolate kiss. “There are more downstairs.”

“What do you mean?” I didn’t know whether to laugh or groan. “Brownies?”

“Indeed.” She smiled before skipping down the steps.