Chapter 13

The celebration had devolved from uncomfortable to unbearable. Aiden’s mother, overflowing with excitement, hovered over me throughout dinner as if nothing had changed.

“Brooklyn, honey, you’ll freeze in those New York winters! Let’s have Aiden take you to Saba tomorrow; they have the most amazing winter collection.”

“That’s okay, Mrs. Carter. I can shop online, or visit the stores once I’m there.”

She beamed at my mother across the table. “I already got their whole dorm setup—matching comforter sets, those adorable string lights everyone’s doing now, and the warmest North Face jackets. You know how brutal those East Coast winters can be. Don’t worry about a thing, Karen.”

My mother shifted in her seat, likely contemplating how all that winter gear would gather dust in sunny California. She plastered on her best social smile and murmured her thanks.

Madison’s perfect smile faltered slightly, but Mrs. Carter didn’t notice. “Once you’re both at Columbia, you’ll be all each other has. Aiden, promise me you’ll look after Brooklyn. No more of this fighting nonsense.”

Aiden rolled his eyes. “Mom, please. She’s not exactly helpless.”

The tension at the table was palpable. Then Madison chimed in, her voice dripping with false sweetness, “Don’t worry, Mrs. Carter. I’ll take good care of Aiden in New York. Besides, Brooklyn will be too busy in California to worry about him.”

A stunned silence followed. Three heads snapped up. “California?”

Madison’s eyes widened in mock surprise. “Oh, Aiden, didn’t you know? It was posted on the school’s acceptance wall… but I guess you haven’t been around much.”

Every eye at the table turned to me. Under their collective gaze, I managed a small nod.

My mother jumped in, her voice artificially bright. “Brooklyn decided Stanford would be a better fit. Their program is actually ranked…”

“Bullshit,” Aiden cut her off, his fingers closing around my wrist. “I watched you accept Columbia. I was literally there.”

His grip tightened, igniting my anger. “Yeah, well, plans change. Not that it’s any of your business.”

He stared at me as if I’d grown a second head, then let out a harsh laugh. “This is a joke, right? You? Miss ‘Call-Aiden-To-Kill-The-Spider’? You’re suddenly moving across the country?”

I pulled up my Stanford acceptance letter and thrust my phone at him. He studied it like a detective examining evidence, zooming in and out as if the pixels might rearrange themselves. Finally, his face hardened into an expression I’d never seen before.

Before anyone could react, he yanked me from my chair and toward the exit, ignoring the startled stares from nearby tables.