Page 2 of Broken Rivalry

She glances at her watch and shrugs. “I can be a few minutes late. I’m dropping my baby girl off to college. Something that’s long overdue. They are so proud of you.” She grins, and my heart aches at all the pride and love I see swimming in her tired eyes. “None more than me, though.” She points behind me. “You deserve this, Poppy. We’ll be fine.”

I twist my mouth with uncertainty. “But if I’m here, who’s going to help out financially? I can’t leave you to shoulder everything.” Her smile falters, giving way to a familiar expression of pain and shame that surfaces during discussions of bills or as she accepts the money I earn from working full-time at Pizz-tachio, a local pizza place.

She rests her forefinger on my mouth, silencing my protests. “It was never your job to take care of this family. You’ve been my rock, my angel girl. We’ve been over this so many times. James is fourteen and starting high school, and Billy is doing the free after-school activity, and the days I have late shifts, Mrs. O’Leary will keep an eye on them.” She sighs again, cupping my cheek. “We all want you to have that. Your brothers won’t shut up about coming to stay with you, and you’re what? Forty minutes away?” She shrugs. “We’ll manage.”

“But—”

“Think of it this way. Study, get a good degree and a good job, and then you can get us out of there,” she insists.

I bite my lip, torn. Her words make sense, but there’s this nagging feeling inside, telling me she’s only saying this to make me feel better.

“You need to seize this opportunity. I need you to do it, Pops. You can’t even fathom how horrible it feels to wake up every day knowing how miserably you have failed your children.”

My mother didn’t fail me; she is not failing me or us. She became a driving force I never suspected she could be. You don’t know how strong you can be until you need to. And my mother is living proof of that. I remember those nights when she’d come home late from work, exhausted but still finding the energy to cook us dinner. Or the time she sold her favorite necklace to buy James a new pair of shoes. Her sacrifices were endless.

I inhale slowly, nodding with resolve. “Alright, we’ll find a way. We always do,” I say more to myself than to her.

“We definitely will!” She smiles and glances at her watch again. “Now I really need you to move because I’ll be more than fashionably late.” She kisses my cheek soundly before brushing a stray hair behind my ear, her eyes glistening. “I’m so incredibly proud of you, Poppy.”

I step out, the car door creaking loudly. A few passing students glance my way. Wincing, I slam the door shut. It’s the only way to ensure it stays closed, thanks to that faulty lock. I open the trunk, which contains all of my belongings, and it all fits in a medium-sized rolling suitcase, a sports bag, and my backpack.

I close the trunk and tap on the rear window. “Love you, Mom.”

“Love you too, Pops!”

She starts the car, and I don’t move quickly enough and start coughing at the black smoke coming out of the exhaust.

I watch the car until it disappears around the corner. The campus around me buzzes with energy. Freshmen like me look around, their faces a canvas of excitement tinged with apprehension. The tall oaks lining the pathways provide shade, their leaves rustling lightly in the breeze.

Taking a deep breath, I turn my attention to the apartment building in front of me. This will be my home for the next four years. Well, me and my new roommates Evangeline and Vanessa.

A month ago, during a private induction session, Evangeline, Vanessa, and I found an instant connection. There was an unspoken understanding between us, a shared experience that brought us together. We are the first recipients of the Phoenix Rising Scholarship program here at Silverbrook University. It is what they call a second-chance scholarship, but for us, it’s not merely a scholarship; it’s a lifeline, a second chance.

I don’t know why the girls are here on this program, and they don’t know about my family’s downfall. Together, we made a pact. No prying, no questions. Whatever secrets we chose to share would remain safely guarded within our trio, a bond of trust in this new chapter of our lives.

I grab the key and fob from the back pocket of my overused skinny jeans and walk into the building. I roll my eyes, seeing the elevator with the out-of-service sign, and am grateful that I have so few things to take with me and climb to the fourth floor.

I barely reach the first floor when a lanky redhead guy exits an apartment.

“Hey there! Do you need help with that?” he says with a warm smile, already extending his hand toward my sports bag.

I tighten my hold on it, meeting his eyes steadily. “No, thank you, I’ve got it.”

He doesn’t back down, his fingers brushing against the bag. “Come on, it looks heavy. Let me assist you.”

My grip remains firm, and I take a step back, maintaining politeness in my voice. “I said, no thank you.”

He raises his hands in surrender, but there’s a smirk playing on his lips. “Alright, just trying to be a gentleman.”

I lift my chin, a small smile curving my lips. “Appreciated, but not needed. Have a good day.”

As I continue my ascent to the apartment, I overhear him muttering something under his breath, but I pay it no mind. A sense of pride swells within me. Poppy Lockwood might have moaned, lamented over her nice shoes, and demanded the elevator be fixed immediately. But I’m not her anymore. I’m Poppy Donovan, and this girl can handle a few stairs—and unwanted advances—on her own.

I reach my floor and find the door unlocked, suggesting that one or both of my roommates have already arrived.

“Poppy?” Evangeline’s deep contralto voice, unmistakable and rich, calls out.

“How did you know?” I ask, turning to see her step out of a room, her face breaking into a broad smile.

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