When Darkness Ends (Moments in Boston #3) - Marni Mann Page 0,65

schools.

I moved on to the next, Harvard’s emblem printed at the top of the paper. I held my breath, reading the beginning lines, not believing what I was seeing. Harvard had accepted me too. I went over the words once again, just to be sure, and was just as shocked the second time.

I picked up the last one. The one from my top choice, Johns Hopkins. Once I had it opened, my eyes jumped past the introduction, the answer italicized on the second line.

The paper fell from my hands, landing on my desk.

“Holy fucking shit,” I exhaled, staring at all three.

“I hope that’s a good holy fucking shit,” Pearl said from my doorway. She rushed in and wrapped her arms around my neck. “Sorry I’m late. I had a few questions for my professor, and then I ran into one of the girls from the play and …” Her voice trailed off as she picked up one of the letters. “Oh my God, is this what I think this is?” She held it up to her face, her eyes widening as she read. She quickly grabbed the other two papers from my desk, giving them a scan before shouting, “Ashe, holy fucking shit!” She threw herself down on my lap, hugging me against her. “I’m so incredibly, ridiculously proud of you.” Her lips were hovering over mine, hands framing my face. “You got into every school, just like I had known you would.”

“I can’t believe it.”

“I can.” She kissed me. “You work harder than anyone I know. You hardly sleep. You study and study and study even more.” She rubbed her nose over mine—something I loved to do to her. “If anyone deserves this, it’s you. Now, which one are you going to pick?”

I didn’t immediately answer, still trying to process what had just happened. “Man”—I took a breath—“I don’t know.”

She smiled, a light laugh coming out. “Yes, you do. Your dream school has always been Johns Hopkins.” Her arms tightened around my neck. “That’s where you’re going.”

“You’re right.”

“I know.” She giggled, and it was a sound I could inhale; it was so delicious.

We turned silent, the news still unraveling, my brain taking me to Baltimore, Maryland, where I would soon be living. I already knew that distance from New York—I’d looked it up long before I received those letters.

“I’ll be over three hours from you.” I stared into her eyes, assessing them. “I hate how little I see you now. I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like when I hardly see you at all.” I paused. “When you’re acting every night of the week and I’m drowning in a relentless workload.”

“I’ve tried not to let that weigh on me, but it has.”

“Baby …” The worry was so clear in her eyes. “You’ve been thinking about this too?”

She nodded. “I didn’t know where you’d end up, but I knew it wasn’t going to be in Manhattan.”

I brushed the hair out of her face, holding her stare steady. “I’ll have a car while I’m there. I’ll come see you every chance I get.”

“You’d better.”

“And when you have a few days off in a row, you can take the bus to come visit me.”

My suggestions didn’t relieve the look in her eyes. And I knew why. This was going to be different than anything we’d ever experienced. We were going to be in two different worlds with a hell of a lot of space between us, and it was going to test us in ways we hadn’t anticipated.

I could already feel the pull.

“It’s going to be all right,” I promised. “We’ll figure this out.” I held her cheek, making sure her eyes stayed on me. “We have to because I’m not letting you go.”

She buried her face in my neck, so I couldn’t see it, eventually breaking the silence with, “Let’s go out.”

“Where?”

She reached for the letter from Johns Hopkins and held it in the air. “Where we can celebrate this. You.” She kissed my cheek. “And the monumental moment that happened today.”

She stood from my lap, holding out her hands to help me rise from the chair. Once I was on my feet, I pulled her into my arms, gripping the back of her head to keep her close.

“I love you.” I breathed in the cinnamon, my eyes closing. “For every reason.”

“I love you more.”

I heard her words, but I didn’t believe them. It was impossible for her to have feelings that were stronger than the ones I felt