Page 78 of Kiss Collector
“Because I thought we were cool, but you’re acting weird.”
“Weird?” He doesn’t pause in his walk. “You hardly know me.”
Ouch.
I’m still confused and kind of hurt when he drops me at Mrs. Crowley’s office. He leaves her door open a few inches, and I’m betting he’s totally eavesdropping from the office area. For some reason, I don’t mind.
“Miss Monroe,” she says with a smile. “I’ve done a bit of research, and I hope you’re doing the same.” Whoops. “Being bilingual or multilingual will be an amazing addition to your résumé for any job. Do you feel that you are bilingual?”
I shake my hand in the air to say so-so. She nods.
“Well, I came across this and thought of you.” She hands me a pamphlet.Study Abroad!
“Is this a college program?” I ask, confused.
She twines her fingers on the desk in front of her. “No. This would be for your senior year. Like a foreign exchange program, but different. You would have a choice of going to one country for the entire year, or splitting it up and doing one country for the first semester and another country for the second. For you, I would recommend Argentina and France.”
My heart jumps. “Wait, you mean I’d be gone the whole year? How would I graduate?”
“I’ve looked at your credits. The study abroad program would give you credits, and you would need one more math and one more English class, both of which you could take online or at the community college this summer.”
I stare at her, still so confused. This kind of thing cannot possibly be an option for me. It’s huge.
“Who... how much... ?”
“It is pricey, but the price drops if you agree to stay with a host family.” She opens the pamphlet to the price page and all I see are thousands. Every tiny hope that had just danced to life is crushed under an ugly bulldozer.
“I can’t. My family can’t afford it.”
She presses her lips together. “I understand. I still think you should take it home and show them. You’d be surprised how parents are able to make things work when they put their minds to it.”
I want to yell at her that my parents have zero savings and cannot afford a loan payment. Maybe in her perfect world people can “make things work,” but not in mine.
“Thanks.” I start to stand when she pushes a list toward me.
“Here are some respectable jobs you can think about in the meantime.” I look it over: banking, social services, secretarial work, yada yada yada, and then the last one catches my attention. Flight attendant.
I stare at those two words as I exit her room and stop in the office area.
Flight attendant. Huh.
I look at Joel, who’s sitting with his head leaned back against the wall, his arms crossed, looking back at me. He says nothing, so I don’t either. But it feels wrong. When I get to the door, I stop and turn.
“Whatever I did to upset you, I’m sorry.”
Joel raises his chin to examine me for a second before responding. “And I’m sorry I’ve given you the impression I’m upset with you.” He stands and walks toward me. Without permission, he takes the pamphlet, looks it over with a nod, then hands it back.
“I can’t do it,” I say, feeling irrationally peeved that she gave it to me as an option.
He says nothing, just shoves his hands in his pockets.
“What areyoudoing after graduation?” I ask him.
“Working for my dad at the shop. Maybe taking community college classes to pass the extra time.” He sounds totally unworried and unhurried. I envy him.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I admit. The words make me feel so anxious. Like I’m on pause and everyone else is still going forward full speed. I’ll never catch up.
“You’ll figure it out,” he says softly. “You’re a smart girl.”
