That’s the most touristy shit ever.”
Hotly, I argue. “It’s neat. Who doesn’t want to stand in four places at once?”
He slides his eyes to me. “Are we taking fanny packs, too?”
“It’s on the way to the Grand Canyon.”
He flops onto his side, face pained. “I was really convinced you were cooler than this.”
I jab him with an elbow. “Stuff it, or I’m putting the Sea Glass Museum back on the list.”
“You’re lucky you’re cute.”
I nod. “Ditto.”
Despite all that, his hand comes out to rest on my lower back, sweeping beneath my shirt. “Got the last one today.” I look at him, noticing now that he looks tired. “Brown.”
I instantly sit up, stomach swooping. “Really?”
He rolls onto his back, pulling an envelope from seemingly out of nowhere. “Came this morning.”
We made a deal to discard the email acceptances, dumping them the instant they hit. Instead, going old school so we could assess it all together. I take the envelope from him. Although I know letter thickness doesn’t mean anything, I still weigh it in my hand. “So, I’m just waiting for Chicago now.”
“Yep.” His eyes follow as I stand to tuck the letter away in my drawer, next to my letter from Rhode Island. His Chicago pick—or maybe more accurately, his father’s—is Northwestern. The envelope for that one is already right there, all snugged up between Emory and SCAD. Our two Yale letters are at the bottom. “We could just open them now.”
I slam the drawer shut. “No!”
He thrusts out a hand. “Come on! We’ve got seven of eight.”
“You’re worse than a kid sniffing out Christmas presents,” I snipe back, folding up the map and stowing it away beneath the bed. “It’ll be better once they’re all here. That way, we can make a choice.”
He makes a low, frustrated sound, because he’s an impatient fuck. “Maybe we can open two per day. It’ll be here by then, won’t it?”
But I stand firm, kneeing up onto the bed. “Patience is a virtue.”
“Virtue can suck my dick.”
“You’re tired,” I say as I snuggle up to his side. I’ve learned that Bass can get on a serious tear about some things, but that he’s also easily distracted. “How’d your test go?”
He grunts, arms coming around my shoulders to press me close. “Fine, probably. I never have a bad test.” I know he’s not lying. He might have issues with behavior and actual, like, attendance. But school comes easier to Bass than it does to me.
I settle my cheek against his shoulder, suddenly feeling tired myself. “Nap.”
He hums, sounding like he’s already halfway there, his soft breaths warming the top of my head. This is probably my favorite place now—all alone with him, curled up against his body as his hand makes the little idle rubs against whatever part of me is closest. When he’s tired like this, his movements will slow, falter, before starting back up in a random bout of renewed vigor, like he’s fighting not to nod off.
When his hand finally goes still, breath evening out, I let my eyes close, wondering where we’re going to be in four months.
“Oops!” Startled awake at the sound, I turn my head to see Georgia in the doorway. I can tell from the light in the room that it’s almost dark outside now. She shifts her feet, eyes apologetic. “Need the room?”
I stretch my legs, yawning. “No, we just fell asleep for a bit. It’s all good.”
Looking relieved, she enters the room, closing the door behind her. “Thank god. I cannot handle anymore prom shit. The hourly texts from my mom about choosing a date are bad enough.”
Bass, still sound asleep, lets out a little whuff when I roll over. “Still no candidates?”
She wrinkles her nose, head shaking. “You’re lucky, snagging a Wilcox. My mom’s convinced I’m doomed to utter destitution unless I lock down someone rich and popular within the next month.” She rolls her eyes, flopping back into her bed. “George never has to deal with this crap.”
My forehead wrinkles. “Who’s George?”
She gives me a strange look. “Uh, my brother?”
I sit up, still feeling half asleep. “You have a brother?” I gawk at her. “Named George?”
“Duh.” She points to a photo on her desk of her and some guy, standing with bland smiles in front of a decked-out fireplace. “Twin brother.”
“Your twin?!” Sebastian stirs and I whirl around to him. He blinks up at me, looking momentarily confused. “Georgia has a twin brother named George?”
He chuffs a low laugh. “I know.”
“Why didn’t I