Page 105 of Trip Me Up

Ouch. That one hit right between the ribs.

While we walked across campus—Jackson had a sixth sense for food trucks—I told him everything. I started with Heidi and Martell’s offer, Heidi’s ultimatum about the book tour. I continued through the fiasco at the prize ceremony and Martell’s threat. Mom’s betrayal. I’d just told him about the meeting with Paul Swift scheduled for the following day and my desperate plan to appease Martell with CASE 2.0 when we reached the tamale truck parked at the far side of campus.

“Fucking Martell,” he growled. “What an asshole.”

“No, he just—” He’d been a father figure to me since I’d joined the department. But in that meeting, he’d shown me where his true loyalty lay. “Yeah.”

I let out a shaky breath. I’d told all the secrets I’d been holding inside for months. All that was left was a desiccated husk of skin and bones. A strong sea breeze would’ve blown me away like an autumn leaf. “He’s got all the power. I can’t get my doctorate without him. I’d have to start over somewhere else. And he’d blacklist me anyway. No other department would take me.”

We reached the front of the line and placed our orders. Jackson paid, of course. I didn’t have the energy—or the funds—to protest.

When the tamales were ready, we took our plates to a bench in the shade.

Jackson picked up his fork. “You still want your Ph.D.?” There was no judgment in his tone. I could’ve said yes or no, and he’d have given me the same steady encouragement as always.

My heart filled with concrete. “It’s my ticket out, you know? I have a postdoc lined up in Idaho. It’s the only way I can be free to live my life.”

My brother’s face crumpled. “When were you going to tell me?”

I stabbed at my tamale. Swallowed past my constricted throat. “I don’t know.” Probably a text as I took a bus out of town. I’d be a coward in saying my good-byes, just like with everything else in my life. “I’m not like you, Jackson. I’m not strong.”

“Coming back from what Stephen did to you and then going on that book tour sounds pretty strong to me. Not to mention the amazing A.I. you created.”

I snorted. “The whole novel thing? That was an accident. CASE was supposed to do something else.”

He leaned back. “Sometimes the best things happen by accident. You just have to roll with it.”

He wasn’t talking about CASE anymore. He was talking about his own life, his company, his wife, even perfect baby Valentine was a fucking joyful accident.

But nothing accidentally wonderful had ever happened to me.

Except Niall, and I’d wrecked that. A hollow pit opened inside me, sucking even the tiny pleasure of lunch with my brother into it.

“What I did with CASE disrupted a lot of people’s lives. It wasn’t the good kind of accident. It was the ruin-things-for-everyone kind of accident. Like my whole fucking life.”

“No.” Jackson looked me dead in the eye. “You’re brilliant. You did things with A.I. no one’s ever done before. That book it wrote changed people’s lives. Including Noah’s. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get a twelve-year-old-boy to read?”

I stared at the antenna on top of the nearest building. “I guess I fooled him, too. Does he hate me now?”

“No, Sam. He sees the real you. A person who cares for people. Who’s amazingly talented. Who’s strong and independent. Who can”—he swallowed—“make her own decisions. You don’t need letters after your name to be qualified to do that, to make a life for yourself. To tell Martell exactly where he can shove his ultimatum.”

My chest swelled like I really could be brave enough to tell Martell no. Like I could walk away from the path I’d envisioned for myself since I was a teenager.

I let my gaze wander over the university campus. The buildings I loved. The students—not that I’d let any of them close—lounging in the grass, walking in pairs on the sidewalks. I’d hoped to exchange it for another university, one where no one knew or cared I was a Jones. No preconceptions. No expectations. Just me and whatever I could do with my hands and my brain. Building my own future.

The future I’d planned cracked and fell to pieces around me. I didn’t belong there anymore.

“Do you still play video games?”

I blinked at Jackson’s change in topic. “Yeah. When I’m not busy coding my ass off. Mostly RPGs.”

“Remember how we used to design games when we were younger?”

“Uh-huh.” I breathed through a painful wash of memory, of the time Niall and I had played one of our old games on the tour.

“We talked about running a game company together when we grew up.”

“You also wanted to be a race car driver. But then you went into business software. Which was totally weak.”

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