Page 118 of Game Changer

“It’s time to do the sparklers!” Brooke shouts, descending from nowhere with a handful of the things.

She shoves them into my free hand, and I nod quickly. “I’ll be right there!”

“Hurry up. Miles almost burned his hands off the last time he tried to do this. We need as much supervision as possible.”

“Thank you for everything,” Harlan murmurs. “We’re here for you. No matter what.” He squeezes my arm and walks away as I unfold the letter.

Dear Nova, it starts.

My throat tightens by the time I read the first sentence.

After the second paragraph, I’m shaking my head.

When I reach the third, my knees give out.

The staircase breaks my fall, my shoulder hitting the banister.

My eyes burn, making the lights blur together.

I force myself to read through to the end.

But even before I get there, I know the truth.

Clay isn’t coming.

Not tonight.

Not ever.

He made his choice.

It’s not me.

32

NOVA

One month later

November in Boston took a sharp cold turn, sending me scrambling for the winter clothes I hastily stuck in storage before my trip to Denver.

As I head home from the café, the wind blows inside the collar of my coat. I pull it tighter around me.

I text my new roommate a picture of me bundled up.

She responds almost immediately.

You still don’t regret telling your old boss to fuck off?

Then, I’d have more salary for a car.

No, I reply.

It’s true, most of the time.

The pay was better than at the café, though I get good tips some days.

I talked to Mari on the phone after she got back from her honeymoon, listening to her gush about the weather and the ocean and the food.

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