“Oh, Brynn!” Roberta, my manager, waves to me from a table by the front, where she's doing some paperwork. I wave back and head over. “There's been some issue with your work-study,” she tells me quietly as I reach her.
“An issue?” I ask frowning. “Do you know what it is?”
“Something related to your scholarship—that's all the dean's office told me when they called.” I rub my forehead in frustration. This is the last thing I need. “If you head over to Monroe Hall now, you might be able to talk to someone who knows more than I do.” I nod. “Sorry,” she adds, before continuing with her work.
I hurry out of the dining hall and follow Roberta's advice to see if I can get some more answers, though I fear I already know what happened. My mom has been so frazzled lately, I bet she forgot to make a payment on the portion of the tuition that we still owe. I explain the situation to a secretary at Monroe, who points me toward the office in charge of the work-study program. A man in his early thirties stands to greet me as I walk through the open door of his office.
“Francis Delton,” he introduces himself, shaking my hand. “How can I help you?”
“Well, I was told there's some issue with my work-study program, or with my scholarship, or something,” I reply, reaching to tug at my hair before realizing it's pulled up in a ponytail.
“OK, your name?” he asks, sitting down and motioning me into the chair across from him.
“Brynn Atwell,” I respond, spelling it out for him. He types my name into his computer and then clicks around for a moment.
“Ah, this is quite unusual,” he says, raising his eyebrows at his screen.
“OK…” I reply nervously.
“You can no longer participate in the work-study program, because your tuition has been paid in full.”
I stare at him. “You mean, for this semester?”
“No, I mean all of your tuition.”
I shake my head, unable to believe him. “For this year? Or…I mean, not all all?”
He smiles. “All all.”
“But that's…that's impossible. How? Who?” I stammer.
“I have no idea. I can only see that you're ineligible for the program.”
“OK, OK,” I reply, trying to gather my thoughts. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” I wander out of his office and out onto the quad. With Pierce and my mom getting divorced, I knew I'd have college tuition loans to deal with again, and I took it in stride. I was used to the idea, anyway. What the hell's going on?
I reach into my back pocket and dial my mom. I have no idea if she'll know either, but I can at least tell her the good news.
“Oh, Brynn! Brynn, I was just going to call you!” she says as she picks up.
“Let me guess, is it about my tuition?” I ask, hearing excitement in her voice.
“Yes! How did you know?”
“Well, I showed up for my shift at the dining hall, and was told that my tuition's been taken care of. What's going on?”
“I was literally just picking up the phone to tell you…it all happened so quickly this afternoon. Pierce's lawyer offered me a settlement in the divorce! And it specifically included payment of your tuition.”
“Pierce paid my tuition?” I ask, my mind reeling.
“Yes! As soon as I signed, the money was wired over.”
“But…but mom, was it a good settlement? I mean, did you have a lawyer look it over?”
“Yeah, it was the same lawyer who told me I'd get nothing because of the pre-nup I signed. He was completely floored, and told me I'd better sign before Pierce changes his mind.”
“But…why? I mean, it seems so out of character for him.”
“I know! I can hardly believe it either. It's crazy! I'll be able to pay off the mortgage on the house and have a little left over. I mean, we're not rich or anything, but we have a bit of leeway now.”
“Was it, you know, 'hush money,' do you think?”
“I doubt it. The lawyer said that there's no less reliable witness than a woman trying to defame her ex-husband, so I don't really think Pierce would be worried about me going to the press with stories or anything—not that I'd want to do that anyway. But honey, it's done now. It's really over. We don't have to worry about him anymore.”
“Well, I'm glad that you're happy with it. If you're happy I'm happy. Man, this is the first good news we've gotten in a while, huh?” I touch my lips with my fingertips, wondering when the last time I smiled was.
“Have you seen him yet?” my mom asks quietly. She doesn't need to specify that she's referring to Nate.
“Not yet,” I reply. “Though I've convinced myself that every brown-haired guy I've seen from the back is him.”
“That's normal,” my mom assures me. “You'll see him everywhere for a while. But it will pass soon, my darling. I promise.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Realizing I now have the evening off, I take a deep breath and call Allison. I'm still in a daze, but I want to share my good fortune with her and Miriam. Allison and I haven't talked since our argument over the summer, so I'm relieved when she accepts my invitation on behalf of both of them. I pick a rather fancy restaurant, and assure her that it's my treat.
Half an hour later, I'm walking out of my room in a light summer dress—the weather here in Virginia is still sweltering, even though it's September. I walk slowly across the quad to the off-campus restaurant, trying not to work up a sweat. I watch a group of freshmen girls giggling as they head out for a group dinner. New hall mates, no doubt. I remember how nervous I was my first year here, worrying that I wouldn't make any more friends than I did in high school.
My insides contract as I pass the spot where I first saw Nate crossing the grass, just a couple weeks into my freshman year. I shake my head at myself. I have to forget him.
When I reach the restaurant, an upscale Mexican place known for its flavored margaritas, I'm relieved to feel the AC hit me. The hostess smiles at me just as I see Allison sitting in a booth by herself. She stands with a nervous smile and I walk over.
“I hope you don’t mind,” she murmurs as we hug awkwardly. “I sort of lied to Miriam and told her you pushed back dinner by fifteen minutes so we'd have a chance to talk.”
A short bark of laughter escapes my mouth. “I don't know if I've ever heard you lie before.” To my surprise, she blushes as we sit down across from each other.
“Well, I've been thinking about what you said…about my being judgmental…and maybe I am a bit of, you know, a goody two-shoes. Maybe I need to loosen up a little. What I'm trying to say is, I'm sorry for what I said.”