The Girl in the Love Song (Lost Boys #1)(88)

“It’s okay,” she said, waving a hand. “I can take care of myself. And I will, once I get to Los Angeles. Promise me, Miller. Promise you won’t say anything. Promise me that when your dreams come true, you’ll help me with mine.”

Nothing had happened yet, but if by some miracle she was right, and they did offer me everything I could hope for, it was my responsibility to help other people. My duty. I’d lived in a car. I’d been homeless once, and I was homeless again. If the universe was going to take care of me, I had to pay it back.

“I promise,” I said, sealing the deal. My word was unbreakable. I just prayed to God that Violet would understand. That it wasn’t asking too much of her…

“Thank you, Miller,” Evelyn said, letting out a shaky breath. “You’re one of the good guys. You know that, right? That’s why they love you so much.”

“Who?”

“All those girls on my vlog. That’s what they all want. Someone like you, looking at them the way you look at Violet. They all want to be the girl in your love song.” She glanced at me, her usually sharp eyes soft now. “Gold Line Records knows that. They’re going to bottle you up and sell you, Miller. Are you prepared for that?”

I thought of my mom’s face, etched in hopelessness. Covered in dust.

“Whatever it takes.”





Chapter Twenty-One





I finished my check-up at the Medical Center. As I suspected, my head was just fine, no residual effects of the concussion I’d had months ago. But to be safe, I’d sat on the bench for the rest of the soccer season, cheering the team from the sidelines.

I’d just arrived at my car when Ms. Taylor, my counselor, called. “I’ve got good news and bad news. Which do you want to hear first?”

“The bad,” I said, shutting the driver side door and climbing behind wheel. “Then hit me with the good to take the sting out.”

“I’m afraid it’s a pretty big sting. UC Santa Cruz has awarded you the Joan T. Bergen scholarship in the amount of $5,000.”

“That’s a good thing. Per year?”

“Total. There was a lot of competition this year, and most scholarships were already awarded. That leaves you needing to cover about $55,000 over four years. Not to mention housing, food, books, et cetera.”

I swallowed hard. “Okay. That’s not impossible. I can survive the first year with financial aid, then reapply next year for more help.”

“Are you sure? That’s a lot to take on.”

“I can do it. I’ll live at home, get a job…” I let out a shaky breath. “Yeah, I can do this.”

I could hear Ms. Taylor’s smile color her words. “Good for you, Violet. But before you make any decisions, the good news is pretty good. Baylor University was quite impressed with you. They’ve awarded you the Physicians of the Future scholarship.”

My jaw dropped. “That’s…huge.”

“It is. And accepting it would look incredible on your med school applications when the time comes. They’re going to cover your tuition in full so long as you maintain a 3.5 grade point average.”

“In full? Holy crap!” I bit my lip.

Baylor was in Texas, so far away from friends and family. And Miller. He was already in Los Angeles, probably building a future there. Santa Cruz was a short flight, hardly an hour. But Texas…

“You’d have to cover your own housing,” Ms. Taylor continued, “but considering tuition is higher for out-of-state students, this is a huge win.”

I nodded. My first years of college, debt free. “It’s an enormous opportunity, but UCSC has been my dream since forever. Santa Cruz is my home. I know you said to be flexible but let me talk to my parents before I make a decision. It’s a lot to think about.”

“Well, let me know what you decide, and I’ll help you answer the schools and figure out the details.”

“Thank you, Ms. Taylor. For everything.”

“Of course. And have fun at the Prom. You’re going with River Whitmore?”

My brow wrinkled. “How did you know?”

“He told me. I’ve been helping him with his college apps. That boy is destined for great things. The NFL, even.”

“Oh, he’s still pursuing that?” I asked casually.

“I can’t give particulars; I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it at Prom. But the Big Ten are all clamoring for him.”

I smiled thinly. “I’m sure they are.”

I hung up with Ms. Taylor, thinking River and I had a lot in common. We both wanted simple things: to stay in the city we loved and build our futures there, but life had its own plans.

I got home to an eerily silent—but not empty—house. It breathed with tension and anxiety. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as I entered the kitchen, colored in twilight’s amber light. Mom and Dad were sitting at the table, papers strewn all over. The logo for the IRS jumped out at me more than once.

“What’s going on?” I asked slowly, moved slowly, breathed slowly. The air felt like glass.

Mom sniffed and dabbed a tissue to red eyes. “Sit down, Violet.”

On stiff legs, I sat between them at the table and folded my hands. I looked to my dad, and my heart cracked. I’d never seen him so wrecked—unshaven, disheveled, thinner.