The Girl in the Love Song (Lost Boys 1)

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.

“Daddy?”

He smiled weakly. “Hey, pumpkin. We have some bad news.”

“I’m sure she gathered that,” Mom snapped but without much energy. She waved a hand. “Sorry. I’m sorry. Just tell her already. Or I will.”

“Be my guest.”

Mom huffed a breath and faced me. “First, let me say this isn’t your fault. You’re going to think it is, but it’s not. It’s the result of years’ accumulation of bad ideas, compounded by mistakes we made.”

“Okay.”

Mom heaved another breath. “Your applications for financial aid have triggered an IRS audit of our finances. Under normal circumstances, this wouldn’t be a big deal. But…”