I rolled my eyes to cover the fact that she’d zeroed in on exactly what I was dreading. “Do our boyfriends exist in this scenario?”
Heather laughed. “What Jack and Minty don’t know won’t hurt them. Come on. I want a summer-break buddy. We can call you an intern and my dad can pay you.”
I groaned, feeling the weight of everything I’d been ignoring so I could have fun tonight drop back on my shoulders. “I can’t. I have to start studying for the GRE.”
Heather lay down flat on the bed, rustling Caro, who snored on. She crossed her arms, and I knew what was coming. “Jessica Marie Miller, you are a sophomore. That word is synonymous with zero responsibilities. I know I say this a lot, but loosen up. You have two whole years to think about your future. I see you studying like crazy every night, freaking out over every test. It looks miserable.”
I shook my head. Our arms touched, which made me feel warm and safe, like I could be honest. “I have to go to grad school for econ and work in DC.” Like my dad planned, I thought to myself, but didn’t say out loud.
“You have the most specific, boring dreams,” Heather complained.
I shifted onto my side. “Yeah, well, first I have to get perfect grades at Duquette. Then perfect grades in grad school. And then, maybe, I can live a little.” I was certain I’d have a shot if I worked hard enough. I tucked that certainty into a warm place in my heart.
“Perfect, perfect, perfect,” Heather teased, snuggling closer. “You’re obsessed with that word. You know no one is actually perfect, right?”
The unkind thought came quickly: Easy for her to say. She somehow managed to get everything she wanted without having to worry about earning it. She was the exception to the rule.
I swallowed the thought and decided to tell her the truth. “I want to make my parents proud.” No more sorry to inform you. “I want to look back in ten years and know I did everything right.” No more second place, no more punching down.
Heather shifted, staring at the ceiling, eyes tracing the little glow-in-the-dark stars Caro had stuck there. Caro, forever obsessed with what she wasn’t allowed to have when she was young.
“In ten years,” Heather said slowly, “you’re not even going to remember the things that seem important now. You’re going to have totally different priorities. I bet you’ll look back and laugh at everything that feels so dramatic now.”
She yawned and bumped my shoulder. “We’ll still be friends, of course, so in ten years, I’ll remind you we had this conversation. You’re going to laugh. Trust me.”
She got excited and turned on her side. “I just had the best idea. Let’s do predictions! I’m super good at them. I’ll bet you a million dollars that ten years from now, I’m famous.”
“How?” I asked, but Heather shrugged. “Don’t know. I like my archaeology class. Maybe I’ll be the female Indiana Jones. Or Hollywood’s hottest plastic surgeon. But most likely reality TV.”
“I thought you said you’re going to major in English.”
“I’ll figure it out along the way. Whatever it is, it’ll be great.” She smirked. “I bet Mint runs his dad’s company and Frankie works for him as his secretary.”
I thought about Mint, who of course was destined for power, the ley lines running straight through him. Inheriting a real estate empire seemed a surefire way to do it. But then I thought of how Mint felt about his father, the secret shame he’d shared with me.
“There’s no way Mint takes over the business. But you’re right that whatever Mint does, Frankie will find a way to follow. What about Coop?” I pressed down the little thrill at saying his name, the memory of the way he’d looked at me on the beach over spring break.
Heather snorted. “Coop will either be a lawyer getting people out of jail or locked in jail himself.”
I frowned. “Just because he smokes pot doesn’t mean he’s a criminal.”
She patted my head. “Sometimes you’re adorable.” She glanced down at Caro, curled at our feet. “Caro says she wants to be a film critic. But that’s not suited for her. She’ll be, like, the president of the Humane Society. Some job where everyone is obligated to love her.”
“Heather,” I hissed, trying to keep my voice low so Caro wouldn’t wake and hear.
“Listen, I call it like I see it. Jack, by the way, will end up a minister. At a Southern Baptist church in Georgia. Probably the same crazy one his parents go to.”