Four fifty-nine—one minute to go. I was so close, just a sliver of time away. With my high grades, thanks to Adderall and constant all-nighters, my essay, revised seven times until it was perfect, like my dad taught me, and my recommendation letter from Dr. Garvey, I had to win. It had to be me, for once.
Five o’clock. I took a deep breath and pressed the refresh button, closing my eyes. The butterflies in my stomach were on speed, banging around everywhere. I opened my eyes and blinked at the screen. The announcement was up.
We are pleased to congratulate this year’s winner of the Duquette Post-Graduate Fellowship: Ms. Heather Shelby.
Heather Shelby? I closed my eyes, rubbing them vigorously. Reality had blipped, gone sideways for a second, but all would be fine.
I opened my eyes and squinted.
Ms. Heather Shelby. It was still there, in black and white pixels. Like someone had dug into my nightmares and pulled out the worst possible scenario, the one that stabbed the deepest. It didn’t make any sense. Heather hadn’t applied for the fellowship. Had she? She hadn’t said a word about it. How was her name on the screen?
It hit me, sudden and fierce: I didn’t win.
I tried to step outside myself, to look from a distance, but the pain was too much. It kept me tethered to my body. I felt the loss like someone had cracked open my rib cage, thrust a hand inside, and squeezed my heart.
I’d failed again. Now my father would be nothing more than a body buried in a hole in that shithole town he hated. Forever a small, unimportant man. He’d fade away into nothing.
Everything I’d done to get here—none of it mattered. Dr. Garvey, his arms encircling me, pulling me down—
The door to the suite burst open. “Jess, you home?”
It was Heather. I sat frozen, the walls of the room closing in.
“There you are!” She practically bounced into our room, wearing a sparkly red sweater printed with Sweetheart candies, her idea of a cocky joke. But maybe she would get crowned Sweetheart tonight. Maybe she’d get everything. “Jess, I have the craziest news!”
Her presence in the room felt threatening. Like a gun pressed to my temple. No wrong moves.
I snapped the laptop shut. “What?”
When she spoke, I had a sense of déjà vu. Like I’d been here before, a thousand times, and knew exactly how it would go.
“I won that fake-Fulbright thing. I just found out. Can you believe it?”
When I didn’t say anything, too choked with emotion, she rolled her eyes. “I know, I know, it’s super-nerdy. Honestly, much more up your alley than mine. I totally applied on a whim, because I was like, why not? We’re in the middle of a freaking recession, and there are no jobs, anyway. Everyone’s going to grad school to wait it out.”
“How?” I whispered. How had she done it? How had she managed to steal the thing I wanted most? Her grades were average. She wasn’t a virtuoso writer. How, how, how?
Heather flopped on her bed and shot me a look. “I’m going to choose to not be offended by that. I am smart, you know. I wouldn’t have even known about the fellowship if that professor hadn’t sought me out.”
I twisted in my chair. “What professor?”
“That famous one. You know, the one you love.” Heather snapped her fingers. “Garvey. He just came up to me after class and said I was totally gifted and should consider applying for the fellowship. He even wrote me a recommendation.”
Dr. Garvey? Suddenly it was clear. He could only have had one motivation.
I recoiled. “You went to dinner?”
Heather frowned. “What dinner?”
“With Dr. Garvey,” I said. He’d done it to both of us. I couldn’t believe it.
“Ew,” she said. “Why would I have dinner with him? He’s old. And, like, a professor.”
I froze. Dr. Garvey hadn’t made Heather have dinner with him? Hadn’t made her go back to his house, kneel on his bed?
She wasn’t looking at me anymore. She was texting on her bed, legs propped up on the wall.
Dr. Garvey had simply written her a letter because he thought she was good.
I didn’t know what was keeping me alive, now that my heart was outside my body.
“Anyway, it’s silly, I know,” Heather said, swinging her legs off her bed. “But my mom was happy, and it gives me something to do for a few years. And I needed some good news. This has been a surprisingly shitty semester. Speaking of which, Caro didn’t find a date for Sweetheart, did she? Because she is the absolute last person I want to see tonight.”