The Decision
Chapter three
Aurora Driscoll
“She’s here!” Saylor—one of my roommates—yells, making me wince.
Another roommate, Jasmine, pokes her head out of the kitchen where she spends most of her time. When she’s not with her quarterback boyfriend, that is.
“Did you get in?” she asks with a smile.
I slide off my sherpa-lined boots at the door and hang my backpack on the hook above them. Saylor is a clean freak and imposes a strict no-shoes rule. Since she cleans everything—including my room sometimes—I don’t mind abiding by her laws.
“Is Marigold here?” I ask instead of answering.
Jasmine’s smile widens. “You totally did! You wouldn’t ask otherwise. She’s on the couch.”
Jasmine leaves the kitchen, wiping her hands on the apron she has draped over her blue Thrashers Cheerleading sweat suit.
“She got in!” she squeals as she heads into the living room. I follow behind her, already feeling awkward with their expectant eyes trained on me.
Yeah, I don’t regret opening the letter in the hallway.
I do, however, regret just about everything that happened after.
It’s been a few hours since my talk with Hayes, and in that time I’ve done nothing but turn the situation over and over in my mind.
All through classes and rehearsals the number he so casually threw out was on a loop in my brain.
One hundred thousand dollars.
He’d said it as though it was the same as a hundred dollars, and maybe to him it is.
But to me? That kind of money would change my life.
I’d be able to pay off the rest of my student loans, the ballet intensive program I got into, plus the other programs I’ve applied to for next year. And still have some left over.
“Aurora?” Jasmine draws me out of my thoughts. “Did I misunderstand? Did you not make the cut?” She worries with the edge of her apron from where she’s standing next to the coffee table that’s covered in Saylor’s medical textbooks and highlighters.
“No, I made it,” I say, and my three friends squeal in unison.
Saylor jumps up off the floor and rushes me. Her tiny arms wrap around my waist. I scrunch my face up at the show of affection but pat her back to let her know the sentiment is appreciated. Her face awkwardly presses into my chest because of how short she is compared to me.
“Saylor, let her breathe,” Marigold laughs from where she’s curled up beneath a burgundy quilt. Then she smiles at me. “Congratulations.”
“I told you that you would get in!” Saylor says as she pulls away, tipping her head back to grin at me.
“I’m glad you were right,” I say with a half smile.
“Tell us everything. When do you leave? Do you need help packing? Do you know what your room is going to look like? If you have pictures, I can make a diagram on the best way to—”
I cut Saylor’s excited ramble off. “I’ve got more news.”
All three of my roommates’ brows rise in unison.
“I get the feeling we’re going to want to be sitting down for this,” Jasmine says carefully.
She sits down on the couch next to Marigold. Saylor eyes me as she takes the last cushion. I move to fully face them, which was a mistake because now I feel like I’m giving a presentation. I hate presentations. I tuck my hands into my hoodie pocket and tangle my fingers.
“I got a job offer today … sort of,” I tell them.
Marigold frowns. “Okay? That’s good, right? I know you’ve been saving a lot for the program.”
Though it pained me to talk about because I hate sharing about my personal life, I told all of them about the program and my meager savings over the summer.
I didn’t want them to think I was turning down their ice cream runs or movie nights because I didn’t want to go.
Sometimes that might be the case—I do like being alone—but they are my friends, and I never want to hurt them.
Especially because they keep me around even though I’m not half as bright and bubbly as they are.
“Yeah, it would cover the cost, plus a whole lot more. The only problem is, the offer is unconventional, and my boss would be …” I hesitate. “The worst.”
Why is it so hard to get the words out? Maybe because I know they know Hayes. And while Saylor and Jasmine are apprehensive, Marigold despises the guy. He stopped her from doing a story on the Shadow Ring last semester for the school paper and then banned her for life.
Jasmine’s forehead wrinkles. “Explain.”
I draw in a deep breath, then let it out in a whoosh. Here goes nothing.
“Hayes Rosewood wants me to tutor him.” I rip off the Band-Aid. “He said he’ll pay me a hundred thousand dollars if I help him pass Digital Logic.”
Saylor’s mouth drops open. Jasmine lets out a disbelieving laugh, falling back against the couch cushions. Meanwhile, Marigold scowls.
“Sounds like a trap,” she says, as expected.
Saylor shakes her head. “I don’t know about a trap, but it definitely sounds too good to be true.”
“What part of tutoring Hayes Rosewood is too good to be true?” Marigold asks, incredulous.
“The part where he said he’d give her a hundred thousand dollars to do it,” Jasmine replies wryly, making me let out a soft laugh.
“I was thinking about the fact that he’s insanely attractive, but that too,” Saylor replies.
“There’s more to a man than his looks,” Marigold says.
“This coming from the girl who’s dating a hot, brooding hockey player,” Saylor shoots back.
I shake my head at their conversation.
“We’re getting off topic here,” Jasmine says, always the one to get our train back on the tracks. “What did you tell him?” she asks me.
I squeeze my hands in my hoodie pocket.
“I said I’d think about it. Which he took to mean yes.”
Marigold rolls her eyes. “Of course he did.”
“Was he right to think that?” Jasmine continues her questions.
I shift on my feet, liking the spotlight less and less.
There’s no hiding things from them, not really, anyway.
So I couldn’t have kept this hidden for long.
Especially considering who Hayes is. He’s like a walking bug zapper, and the student body is a swarm of moths drawn to him.
They don’t realize until it’s too late that he’s danger incarnate.
“Maybe,” I hedge.
Marigold gapes at me. “You can’t be serious.”
“It’s a hundred thousand dollars,” Saylor reminds her. “I’d do it, too.”
I gesture to Saylor. “Exactly. I’d be able to pay for college and ballet. No more pinching pennies and saying no to girls’ nights.”
No more lying to my parents that it’s fine and finding money tucked in my bag when I get home from visiting them. No more trying to dance on dead pointe shoes just a little longer because I hate spending the money on new ones every week, sometimes twice a week.
“Okay, maybe I’d be tempted by that kind of money, too,” Marigold admits. “But it’s Hayes.” She shudders. “Didn’t you say he flirts with you incessantly? Are you worried he’d try anything if he got you alone?”
Saylor’s and Jasmine’s expressions turn worried. I shake my head to reassure them.
“He’s not like that. He’s annoying but harmless.”
At least, he has been so far. After spending so much time around him in class, he seems far from that kind of dangerous. It’s not like he needs to force himself on anyone anyway. At minimum half the girls on campus would commit a crime to date him.
“He punches people in the face for fun,” Marigold deadpans.
My lips turn up at the edges. “You’re dating a hockey player,” I remind her.
She sniffs and crosses her arms. “One, you can’t fight in college hockey. Two, it’s different in hockey. Civilized. Not like the basement gladiator tournaments he puts on.”
I shrug. “Does it really matter? I’m not dating the guy, just tutoring him.”
“So you’re gonna do it then?” Jasmine asks, her gaze curious.
I pause for a moment, weighing my options one last time. One semester of annoyance in exchange for life-altering payment?
“Yeah, I am.”