"I hate this," I whisper.

"I'm sorry."

Mark responds, his voice getting louder, "I just don't understand why you won't let me pay! Why are you so stubborn that you won't accept help?"

Lucy squeezes my hand. "Maybe you can speak to Mark? Maybe he can lend you the money."

I shake my head.

Mark adds, "He's my son, Heather! Whether it's on paper or not! You don't want to move in with me, that's fine. I let it slide. But I don't understand why you won't let me take care of my family!"

Mom cries.

So does Lucy.

Mark apologizes.

I reach for my backpack and pull out the community college catalogs I've collected and start going through them.

Lucy kisses my cheek. "I'm so proud of you," she whispers, her breath shaky.

"Thanks," I tell her. "But it was all for nothing."

***

It's been three weeks since I got the letter, and a week since I sent off the applications for community college. I plan on going there this weekend to look around for any job opportunities.

"Dad invited us for dinner tonight," Lucy says with a grimace. "I guess to celebrate me getting into UNC. He said he's been waiting for you to get your letter. I guess he's just been hesitant because you can't go, but he still wants to take us, and your parents too... I mean your mom and Mark."

"Of course," I tell her. "Did he not want to do it earlier because he was afraid I'd be upset or something?"

She shrugs. "I guess."

*

We meet Tom and the rest of the boys at one of the few family restaurants that can accommodate a family their size. Mom and Mark have worked out their issues about him paying. He doesn't understand why we're both so stubborn, but he's accepted it and moved on. I think we've all moved on from the high of me being accepted in the first place.

"I have eleventy-three sticks hidden in Filmore," Lachlan, Lucy's youngest brother, the baby of the family, tells me from his position on my lap. After Filmore died, Tom got it towed to his house and Lachlan's been using it as his own little clubhouse since.

"Eleventy-three?" I ask him. "That's a lot of sticks."

He raises a finger, and then curls it, asking me to bend down to his level. Once my ear is to his mouth he whispers, "I have to hide them from the others. Don't tell."

I chuckle. "Okay, dude. I swear it. I won't tell a soul."

He grins from ear to ear.

"Cameron's an amazing secret keeper," Mom tells him.

"It's true," Mark agrees.

Lachlan's eyes narrow from me to Mom then back again. "Your mamma's pretty," he says. "I'm gonna marry her."

I laugh.

Mark chimes in, "Sorry, Lachlan, she's all mine."

"Did you call dibs?" he shouts.

Mark rears back in surprise.

"DIBS!" Lachlan yells. "I WIN!"

The table erupts with laughter, just as a tray of champagne is set on the table.

Tom hands them to Mom, Mark, Lucy and I, and then takes a seat. "Before we do a toast to my little girl," he says. "I wanted to mention something real quick."

"Daddy," Lucy whines.

"Daaaaddy," Little Logan mocks, rolling his eyes.

That gets laughs.

"It's okay, Luce, it's not about you, or how you used to eat your boogers until you were seven."

She gasps.

We laugh again.

"Actually," Tom continues, looking right at me. "Remember that sketch you made one night? The night when I was panicking and thought I'd lost the deal?"

I nod. "The development ones?"

"Yeah. You remember how I told you that I took it to the developers and they loved it? After that I had to find an architecture firm to do the proper blueprints. I went to Bradman. Have you heard of them?"

I nod. "Yes sir, they're one of the biggest architecture firms in the state."

He smiles. "They didn't change much with your plan. They actually thought it was amazing—what you managed to do from just your eye alone."

Lucy holds my hand under the table, smiling as she does.

Tom adds, "Anyway, we're working together again on a new development so I had a meeting with them today. I was there for two hours while I waited for all these kids who were in and out of Mr. Bradman's office. When I finally got to meet with him, I asked him what it was about. He said they were experimenting with a scholarship program—"

"You got him an interview?" Mom cuts in, her eyes wide with anticipation.

Tom huffs out a breath. "No," he says, and I can see the instant disappointment in Mom's eyes. "See that's the thing," Tom continues. "I mentioned you, asked if he remembered that sketch. He didn't realize that you were still in high school. He thought you were in college, already on your way..."

He sips his champagne while we all wait for him to continue.

"And?" Lucy says, sitting on the edge of her seat.

"And they don't want an interview," he deadpans.

My shoulders slump in disappointment.

"They said they don't need it. Your work is miles above the other kids. They want to offer you the scholarship, Cameron. But just for the first year, until they decide if it's beneficial to the firm. It includes housing, and they—"