Page 32 of Colton

My eyes widen. “Seven?!”

“That’s just the basic conversion. Back when they started in the fifties, it was much easier than it would be today. Maybe choose a different path?”

“What path could that be?” I sigh, looking up at the ceiling, and leaning back in the chair. Even the ceiling is beautiful — it has a hand drawn painting of a starry sky all over it. God, it’s gorgeous.

“You’re good at history,” he points out. “Even the first books you chose here were history books.”

“Yes, but that’s not really something that would earn me a lot of money, is it?”

“Ah, it is money you’re after.”

“Isn’t everyone?” I lift a brow, looking at him. “My family had to sacrifice a lot for me to come here. Sure, I don’t pay for much, but I still do have to pay for certain things. And getting a job whilst I’m at the Academy is next to impossible. It’s too far from anything that I could potentially use to work.”

My heart clenches at the thought.

My family wasn’t always in this terrible financial spot. We weren’t rich by any means, but we had more than enough. I’m the oldest of four siblings, and my younger three are struggling in their public schools.

My father used to own a construction company. He developed it before I was even born, and by the time I was three, our future seemed so bright. Then, my mother lost her job, so dad had to take on more work to support us. Even then, we had enough.

Mom got pregnant with triplets, and when they were around five, dad had one contract that went wrong. That was when everything started going downhill, and we haven’t stopped rolling downwards since.

My siblings are sixteen, and each one has to have a part-time job, until all of the debts have been repaid. In a sense, I feel responsible. I took the entrance exam on a whim, and never actually expected to be accepted into the academy.

My goal is to make sure my family is financially set for life, even if it means I have to suffer. They’ve suffered a lot for me, too. Whenever I speak to my siblings, they don’t resent me. They’re proud of me, and they use any opportunity given to brag about the fact that their sister is attending the most prestigious school on the continent.

It doesn’t make me feel any less guilty, though.

“It must be stressful,” he murmurs, and my jaw ticks.

I’m not looking for sympathy, or pity. But when someone who’s never had to worry about whether they would have a meal tomorrow, or if the power was going to be cut, or even if they were going to be living on the streets is offering some bogus words of comfort, it tends to piss me off.

However, I’m not immature enough to show him that he pissed me off.

Colton has had everything handed to him on a silver platter, since the day he was conceived. He has the privilege I will never, ever have, and I don’t hate him for it. Though, I am envious of the luxury, of the fact that his bank account has one too many zeros, whilst mine goes under it often.

“It is,” I smile, though it’s tight. “Which is why I’m working toward ensuring my family will have a better future.”

“Then, once you’re back at the academy, you should come by. I have some brochures left by the previous students, and it might help you figure out which field of work resonates the best with you. It’s not something you’d have to decide on immediately, but given the fact that you’re graduating soon, it might be good for you to look over all the options.”

I nod. “I’ll come see it, then.”

“My door’s always open for you, Ms. Evans.”

My heart clenches. We’re back to being addressed formally, properly. As if he hadn’t whispered my name in such a dangerous, delicious manner not too long ago. As if he wasn’t looking at me with eyes filled with need, desire, and God knows what else.

But since he’s offering, I would be stupid to not take him up on the offer.

◆◆◆

The moment I step through the door, I’m smacked with something across the face. I stumble backward, yelping out in pain, my hand flying to shield me from further attacks. All in all, my survival skills are zero.

“What the hell?!”

“That’s what I should be saying to you!” Grace’s loud voice rings in my ears, and once I lower my hand to look at her, I find myself staring into someone who’s ready to murder me, holding one of the pillows tightly in her arms. “Where the hell have you been?! Do you know what time it is?!”

“Woah,” I close the door, entering the shared room at the hotel, “relax, Grace. It’s not like I died. I’m perfectly fine, as you can see.”

She scoffs, slumping onto the bed. “I was worried sick, and you kept on declining my calls, time and time again. I was ready to call the FBI to track you down.”