Page 72 of Promise You Forever

Two boxes are filled and sealed by the time I hear Amber come home. She drops her bags and walks into my room, flopping back onto the bed dramatically.

“My brain is fried. I’m only operating off vibes for the next couple weeks.”

“How do you think you did?”

“Aced it, of course.” She lies there, staring up at the ceiling. “Give me thirty minutes to recharge, and I’ll start helping.”

“I could actually use a break. Are you hungry?”

“Always. What sounds good?” She shoots to a sitting position. “Nothing healthy. I want greasy comfort food.”

“In-N-Out,” we both say at the same time.

“It’s the worst part of moving to Colorado. The closest location is still hours away.”

She tosses me her keys because she found someone to buy my car a few weeks ago, and we head out. On the way there she fills me in on a clerkship she’s thinking of applying for and her schedule for next semester. I listen intently, but my situation with Luke is never far from my mind.

“Okay.” She pokes her straw through the lid of her drink. “What’s going on? You’ve been off the whole time you’ve been back, and I’m mentally here now.”

“You know how things have been going well with Luke? We’re getting along and working well together.”

“Yeah, amongst other things.” She wiggles her eyebrows.

“We’ve reconnected.”

“In the most literal sense.”

“I found out he’s been lying the whole time.”

“About what?” Her eyes instantly narrow as she readies to go to war for me.

“Do you remember the Sunrise Scholarship Fund?”

“Yeah, that was the random organization that paid your living expenses, right?”

“Yes, but it’s not an organization. It’s a single person.” I give her a pointed look.

“No.” Her eyes are round as saucers. “No fucking way.”

“Yep. He formed the fund specifically to help me pay for school.”

“That’s—” she trails off as she thinks about it.

“Fucked up,” I say.

I watch as she works her way through the realization. The expression on her face isn’t giving what I think it should be, though. She doesn’t look outraged, instead she looks confused and a bit pensive.

“It’s a little fucked up,” she concedes. “But it’s also kind of sweet, but in a borderline creepy way. There’s a lot of conflicting ways to look at this.”

“It’s invasive.”

“Yes,” she nods in agreement with me. “That’s completely valid.”

“But?” I ask hesitantly. I know she’s about to say things I don’t want to hear.

“No but, at least not yet. Did you talk to him about it? Why did he do it? Why not tell you outright?”

“He said he just wanted to find a way to help me and that he didn’t think I’d accept money from him.”

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