“It’s no Harvard,” I said, unable to help myself.
His face flashed with anger—then, just as quickly, smoothed into a calm mask. “Yeah, well, you didn’t get that fellowship, did you?” His voice was cold. “Even though you went above and beyond.”
I blinked at him.
“I’m sorry.” Mint shook his head. “I’m just really stressed with my mom here. And him.”
“It’s okay. I’ll think about New York,” I promised.
Mint nodded, looking off into the distance. I could still see the anger, alive in his eyes, see him struggling to kill it. “I’m going to take a walk,” he announced.
I looked around. It was the last moment of twilight, right before night fell. The sky was purple; the lights of the stage turning on, one by one.
“Okay,” I said, and he walked away.
I stood there by myself and tried to picture Mint, New York, consulting. A prestigious job—a good life. But instead, the shadow thoughts bubbled up, as they always did: My dad. Heather. The pull of memories, trying to tug me under.
“Jess.”
It was spoken too loudly. A little slurred.
I turned to find Coop walking toward me, the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled to his elbows, hem untucked. His hair was sticking up wild, as if he’d run his fingers through it a million times. But nothing was as wild as his eyes, rimmed with red.
I backed away. “I have to go. Back to my mom.”
“Stop running,” he said. “Why won’t you talk to me? Ever since you showed up at my door that night, you’ve refused—”
“Coop, I’m with Mint. I need to do it right this time. I have to be a good person.” I started to walk away.
“If you leave like this, we’ll never see each other again.”
I froze. The thought had plagued me all day. I turned slowly, afraid of what I’d find when I stopped—real, magnetic, flesh-and-blood Coop, and the short distance between us. But I was unable to resist.
“You’re drunk,” I said as soon as I got a close look at him.
“Yeah, well, my heart is broken.”
Goddammit, Coop. He always asked so much. But he didn’t know the truth, and what would he say if he did? Desire and fear warred inside me.
My voice dropped. “You were right about me, what you said that day in Blackwell Tower. I’m a bad person. But I don’t want to be. I want to be good.”
Coop closed the distance between us. “Fuck it. I don’t care if you’re good or bad. I love you, and you love me. Say it.”
“Coop, listen to me.”
He dropped to his knees in the grass and clutched my hands. My heart beat wildly; I searched around, looking for prying eyes. But we were at the edge of the concert, and no one was paying attention.
“Get up,” I insisted.
“Tell me. Just once.”
I wanted to throw my arms around him. Kiss him, tell him, dissolve. But I couldn’t. I’d messed up too much already. I needed to make the right choice. Everything pointed to Mint, the boy from the right family who had the whole world at his feet, the one who could make me into someone valuable, someone important.
I shook my head and spoke words that would slide softly between his ribs, like a sharp knife. “I love Mint.”
Coop’s head jerked like he’d been slapped. He focused on the grass, biting his lip. I watched him struggle.
Then he turned back to me, letting me see the rawness of his face, his glittering eyes, wet lashes. “No, you don’t.” Coop gripped my hands, his voice fierce. “Jess, come with me to law school. Marry me. You can paint, be an artist, do everything you love. I’ll make you happy, I swear.”
Give up everything I’d worked for? Even though nothing was turning out the way it was supposed to, I couldn’t do that. I had to find a way to fix it, not blow it all up.
“Jess, do something radical. Choose happiness.”
Happiness? That was a luxury I’d never been able to afford. Besides, Coop didn’t know that I didn’t deserve to be happy, even if I’d wanted it.
I saw Mint far off in the distance, walking back to Eliot Lawn from wherever he’d gone. It flashed before my eyes, a whole life: Mint. New York. Consulting. Becoming someone valuable, someone my father would’ve been proud of, even if the details looked different.
I looked down at Coop, on his knees. Just like the first time we’d kissed, at the top of Blackwell Tower, when he’d warned me he needed more, that I had to choose all or nothing. He was always asking me to make radical choices.