They Turned Down the Ivy League for Her
Lily · Completed · 6.3k Words
Introduction
In my last life, I informed their parents.
It worked. Their futures were saved, but they killed me for it.
"Let go of me!"
Hayes had my wrist in a death grip, dragging me toward the edge. Ezra stood behind him, hands in his pockets.
"If you hadn't interfered, Willow would still be alive."
"Now it's your turn."
Then I was falling from the stadium bleachers.
I opened my eyes. Decision Day again.
Chapter 1
On National College Decision Day, my two childhood best friends announced they were ditching the Ivy League to follow a scheming charity case to a garbage community college.
In my last life, I informed their parents.
It worked. Their futures were saved, but they killed me for it.
"Let go of me!"
Hayes had my wrist in a death grip, dragging me toward the edge. Ezra stood behind him, hands in his pockets.
"If you hadn't interfered, Willow would still be alive."
"Now it's your turn."
Then I was falling from the stadium bleachers.
I opened my eyes. Decision Day again.
"You guys, stop. You really don't have to do this for me."
Willow Danes's voice pulled me back.
"I mean it. I would never forgive myself if you two threw away everything just because of me." She had both hands raised, palms out, shaking her head.
"Blair, tell them. Tell them they're being crazy."
She turned to me,.
"They'll listen to you."
The senior study lounge at St. Jude Prep. Air conditioning humming. May 1st on the wall screen.
I was back again.
"Willow, relax. I just want to enjoy the attention. Can't exactly get that at some Ivy full of elites, can I?"
Hayes Calloway, star quarterback, Yale legacy admit, leaned back in his chair and tossed a lacrosse ball toward the ceiling.
"I'm confirming today. Done deal." He caught the ball without looking.
"She's right that we don't have to. We're choosing to. There's a difference." Ezra Whitmore, debate champion, student body president, pushed his glasses up.
He turned to Willow.
"Going to a community college with our credentials? That's the ultimate act of intellectual rebellion. We'd be legends."
Willow's eyes welled up.
"I just... I feel so guilty. You're both giving up so much."
She glanced at me, then quickly looked away. Her fingers twisted together in her lap.
"I wish all four of us could stay together. But I'd never ask anyone to give up something important for me."
She said it to no one in particular.
Hayes caught it anyway.
"Blair." He stopped tossing the ball. "You're coming with us, right?"
Ezra turned to me.
"Obviously she's coming. We've been a unit since freshman year."
Willow shook her head quickly.
"Guys, don't pressure her. If Blair wants to go to Harvard, that's her choice. I'd never want her to feel forced."
She looked down at her hands.
"I just hope she knows I'll miss her."
I stared at her.
Same face. Same routine.
The trembling lip, the wet eyes, the helpless little gestures that made Hayes puff up his chest and Ezra go soft around the edges.
Last time, I fell for it too.
I spent weeks begging, arguing, pulling up statistics, calling their parents.
And months later, when Willow killed herself over it, they pinned everything on me.
Hayes threw me off the top of the stadium bleachers with his own hands.
That bone-shattering pain, I still remember it.
I stood up and slid my iPad into my bag.
"I need to call my family's fund office. Harvard confirmation is due by end of day."
Willow's breath caught.
She reached toward me, then stopped herself.
"Of course." She smiled. Small, brave, rehearsed. "Go. You should."
She turned to the window.
"I'll be fine."
Hayes was on his feet before I reached the door.
His palm hit the doorframe. Six-foot-two, blocking the entire exit.
"That's it? You're just walking out?" He tilted his head toward Willow. "Look at her. She's trying to hold it together and you can't even be bothered to sit here for five more minutes?"
"We don't have all day for the princess routine, Blair. Give us a straight answer, are you in or not?"
Ezra appeared at his shoulder.
"Leave it, Hayes. She can't help it. Eighteen years of prep school programming. The Blair machine does what the family trust tells it to do. Independent thought isn't in the software."
Behind them, Willow wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
I looked at Hayes's hand on the doorframe.
Same hand. Same grip. Same angle as the bleachers.
A shiver crawled up my spine.
"Fine. You want a straight answer?"
I looked at Hayes. Then Ezra.
"Harvard is where I belong. That joke of a community college is all yours. Rot in it."
Willow's breath hitched.
"Is it because I'm poor?" Her voice broke.
She turned away, shoulders curling inward.
Ezra already had a tissue out. He pressed it into Willow's hand and rubbed her shoulder twice before turning back to me.
Hayes stepped forward.
"You're jealous. That's what this is. You can't handle that we chose Willow over you."
"I knew it. I knew she always looked down on me."
Willow covered her mouth with both hands. Tears spilled over her fingers.
Hayes's jaw tightened.
"Apologize. Right now. Or we're done."
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