Chapter 3
Emma's POV
He stood on the lawn, shivering in the night wind.
I stared coldly at the pathetic mess outside my window, not bothering to open it right away.
Countless nights in my past life had played out exactly like this. He'd get into trouble, his parents would lock him out, and he'd sneak over to tap on my window. Every single time, I'd cave and let him in, bandage his cuts, slip him my allowance money.
But this time, I just stood there for a full two minutes. Only when he looked ready to chuck rocks at the glass did I slowly push the window open.
"Emma! Finally!" Luke said desperately. "Quick, I need your mom's Honda keys and five hundred bucks! Casey's in trouble at some South Side bar—I have to get over there and save her!"
He didn't even ask if I was sleeping. Didn't apologize for waking me up. In his mind, I was still his personal ATM and safety net, available 24/7.
I looked at the still-bleeding scratch on his face, smelled the cheap booze and cigarettes reeking off him.
"Car keys? Five hundred dollars?" I crossed my arms, looking down at him. "Luke, did someone beat the brains out of your head?"
Luke froze. Clearly couldn't believe I was talking to him like this.
"Emma, cut the crap—this is life or death!" He clawed at the windowsill frantically. "Casey's ex tracked her down, and they've got GUNS! If I don't bring money to get her out, they'll kill her! Just lend me the cash, okay?"
"No." Two words, clean and simple.
"What did you just say?" Luke's eyes went wide like I'd spoken in tongues.
"I said no." I leaned forward slightly, meeting his shocked stare. "Your Casey pissed off gangsters—that's HER problem. You wanting to go die for her—that's YOUR choice. What's that got to do with ME? Why should I blow my hard-earned money on whatever bottomless pit you two idiots dug for yourselves?"
Luke's face went beet red, rage making him stupid.
"Emma, how can you be so HEARTLESS?! Casey's a human being! You weren't like this before—you used to be KIND! Are you jealous of her? Jealous that I love her and not you?!"
Jealous? I almost burst out laughing.
"Luke, what makes you think you're worth being jealous over?" I rolled my eyes. "Some jackass who threw his future away for some skank, some parasite who can't even support himself but plays hero in his fantasies. Tell me—what exactly about you deserves a second glance?"
"You—!" Luke raised his hand like he wanted to smash the window.
"I fucking dare you." I stared at him blankly. "The second that glass breaks, I'm calling the cops. Trespassing plus property damage—think they'll toss you in jail with your troublemaker girlfriend?"
Luke's hand froze mid-air. He looked at me with fear and confusion creeping into his eyes. Finally realizing that this Emma wasn't the same pushover who used to enable his every stupid decision.
"Fine... just FINE." Luke backed away, teeth clenched, pointing at me viciously. "Emma, remember what you said tonight. Even if you get on your knees and BEG me later, I'll never speak to you again! We're DONE!"
"Best news I've heard all day." I said coldly, then slammed the window shut, cutting off his pathetic tantrum completely.
The next day, school exploded with gossip.
Apparently Luke had stolen two grand from his dad's safe to go "rescue" Casey at that South Side bar. Not only did the gangsters take his money, they cracked three of his ribs. When cops showed up, they found a bag full of meth in Casey's purse.
Luke got arrested as an accessory. Redwood High's school board held an emergency meeting and expelled him on the spot.
The former golden boy quarterback had become the town's biggest joke.
That same afternoon, FedEx delivered a thick envelope to my door.
In the top left corner sat Stanford University's iconic red tree logo.
I ripped open the envelope and saw that beautiful word: "Congratulations."
Finally. It was all over.
To get a head start on college life, I applied for Stanford's summer prep program and decided to leave this shithole town early.
The day I left was bright and cloudless.
I loaded my suitcase into the taxi's trunk and hugged my parents goodbye.
"Call every day when you get to California," Mom said, tearing up.
"Don't worry." I smiled and patted her back, then slid into the car.
"Airport, please," I told the driver calmly.
The scenery rolled backward outside my window while my phone kept blowing up on the passenger seat. Luke's name lit up the screen.
I heard his parents had just bailed him out yesterday. He was facing serious charges.
Text after text flooded in:
"Emma! Are you INSANE?! How can you go to Stanford?!"
