Page 125 of Collide
“You’re going to get into Dalton, and if by some fluke you don’t, I’ll transfer to Stanford Law to keep you company.”
My heart feels like it’s no longer inside my chest. “You’d do that for me?”
“Say the word, Sparkle.”
A laugh bursts out of me. We first used that nickname in third grade after watching My Little Pony. I was Sparkle, and Sampson was Dash. “Knowing you, you would get accepted the moment you applied. But I didn’t spend my entire life hearing you talk about a Dalton Law degree for you to not get one.”
When someone calls my name, we turn to Cole Carter sprinting toward us. He slumps against the statue to catch his breath. “You are going to freak! I just saw Donny Rai.”
Seeing Cole exhibiting this much emotion is rare. He’s usually holed up in his basement with his eyes glued to a screen.
“Yeah, he goes here, buddy,” says Sampson.
Cole shakes his head. “He was at the new diner, Lola’s, in West Hartford this morning.”
“How is that news?”
“He was with Langston.” He says it like it’s a huge reveal. I glance at Sampson to make sure I’m not the only one witnessing Cole’s mental decline.
“She’s his advisor. They’re probably discussing coursework,” I say.
“Sure. If the work required his tongue to be down her throat.”
I choke on my spit. “Bytongue down her throat, do you mean kissing her?” I ask, my voice hoarse as Sampson pats my back.
“We both know you’re not inexperienced, Summer.” He throws me a deadpan look, but the embarrassment doesn’t even register over the revelation. “Yes, they were kissing.”
“Aren’t there policies against that?” I ask.
“Dalton banned professor-student relationships. That’s why I stick to the TAs,” says Cole. We stare at him, but he only shrugs. “So, I guess this means she’s been giving him special treatment.”
Suddenly, everything starts to make sense. “He’s trying to get the co-op. That’s why he made it so difficult for me to finish my application. Both of them did.”
“And Shannon Lee is at Princeton now, so he doesn’t need to worry about her,” adds Tyler.
A trickle of contempt leaks into my bones. “So his only other competition is me.”
“If you need proof, I took a picture.” Cole pulls out his phone to show us. They’re fully making out, and although the picture is grainy it’s clear what’s going on. “What are you going to do?”
My head feels heavy with indecision. Reporting this to the dean needs to be anonymous. But I can’t afford to be involved in this mess so close to when grad school decisions come out.
I drop my head in my hands. “I don’t know.”
Sampson stands. “I have a plan.”
I peek up at him through my fingers. “A plan?”
AIDEN IS ASLEEP.
In the silence of the room, it’s easy to hear his soft breaths and the faint sound of music playing somewhere in the house. I’m assuming it’s Kian’s since he just bought a new vinyl for his record player. He made it a point to tell me it was his way to block out noises coming from Aiden’s room.
My eyes catch on my glowing phone screen sitting on the nightstand, but the heavy arm over my stomach bars me from reaching for it. After dinner, Aiden dragged me upstairs, and we celebrated his game-winning goal before he fell asleep.
It was Dalton’s second game against Yale tonight, and we had the home-ice advantage. Amara came with me, though she spent most of the game taunting the Yale students. It ended with her chucking a fry at a frat guy and him simmering in anger.
Now, hoping Aiden is as exhausted as usual after a big game, I carefully lift his arm and scoot away. When he doesn’t stir, I roll off the bed and snatch my phone to send a quick text.
I shuffle around for my clothes, but they’re strewn across the room. Giving up on the futile search, I pull out my overnight bag stashed in Aiden’s closet.
