Page 40 of The Sun and Her Star

“All right, cool. I’m thinking I should apply early decision, since it’s my first choice,” I tell her, feeling more confident now that I can see how happy she is.

She squeals and wraps her arms around my neck again and hugs me.

“Wait.” She pulls back suddenly. Her gaze is full of doubt suddenly. “What about your mom? Are you sure you want to leave her alone in LA?” She squints at me like she thinks maybe I haven’t considered it.

“She’s hardly alone. She’s got more of a social life than me. She’s got work, yoga. She’s friends with a lady named Becca ... I mean, it’s cool. Las Vegas isn’t that far away, so she can come up for a weekend or I can go down. Just like you do now.”

Her expression crumbles slowly. It starts with the softening of her eyes as they fill with tears, continues to the drooping of those always smiling cheeks, and ends with her pouting lower lip trembling. And then she buries her face in my neck and starts to cry.

“Hey, what’s all this?” I walk us to one of the benches lining the walk. By the time I set her down, she’s got tears streaming down her cheeks.

I squat in front of her, tilt her chin up with my finger and search her face, worry growing with every second she doesn’t respond.

“Apollo, talk to me,” I demand.

She turns those teary midnight eyes my way and says, “I’m justsohappy.” She wails before she covers her face with her hands.

A bark of relieved laughter makes me throw my head back. When I look back at her, she’s smiling again.

“Things have been so hard at home. Being stuck there with Maman and all this stuff with my grandfather’s will. Lately, I’ve been thinking how I’ve never lived anywhere because I wanted to be there.”

“God, you’re almost eighteen, Apollo. It’s only seven years, really. Where are you in such a rush get to?”

“Life is short. I’m afraid I’m missing something. I wonder if the money’s worth it?”

“You’re not sure you want to inherit enough money to make you independently wealthy? You’d neverhaveto work again.” We’ve talked about this so many times.

“I don’tmindworking. Iwantto work.” She groans.

“Then youcan. There’s nothing stopping you. But, let’s say something happened, and you couldn’t work, wouldn’t it be great if you could survive without it?” I can’t even imagine having that kind of security.

“That’s true. I mean, anything could happen. It’s just such a long time, and I want to start livingnow.”

She sounds so pained. All I can think is that IwishI had this problem.

“You’re young. You’ve got time. This time next year, I’ll be there.”

“Yes. Everything will be so much better,” she agrees and swipes her cheeks. She gives me a watery smile. “I’m so happy,” she says again and grasps my hands, links our fingers, and lifts it to her mouth for a kiss. When those soft lips touch the skin of my hand, it’s as searing as that brand was. I can feel the imprint of it on my heart.

She lets her mouth linger, and when I look into her eyes, I see something new there. But I recognize it because I feel it, too. I pull my hand away from her mouth and pull her back to her feet. “Well, then, mission accomplished,” I say. “Come on. If we don’t stop again, maybe we can make it there before the sun comes up.”

“I should make you carry me,” she complains, but she smiles as we start to walk.

“I should make you carryme.I’ve been all over this city today.”

“Don’t you exercise for a living? This should be a piece of cake.” She shakes her head at me in mock disappointment

“Yeah, well, you’re not the one who had to carry all those books we bought at Hatchards after that tea … those sandwiches wouldn’t satisfy a two-year-old.”

“I can’t believe we went to Hatchards!” she says excitedly.

After I took her to Fortnum and Mason’s, we walked next door to Hatchards, the UK’s oldest bookstore.

I only knew about it because Apollo had been going through a phase a couple of years ago when she read nothing but historical romance. And this bookshop was mentioned all the time. Even after more than two hundred years of operation, it’s very much like any Barnes and Noble in terms of its inventory.

Otherwise, the building is nearly untouched since it opened its doors more than two hundred years ago. The moss green exterior, large bay windows with wooden frames and the huge royal Warrant over its door make it look like something out of a Charles Dickens novel.

For book lovers like Apollo and me, it was a must see. We climbed up the original staircase to the third floor to take a picture on the famous tufted green leather sofa that sits with its back facing the window. We sat and stared at the feast of books in front of us and listened to the hubbub of the Piccadilly behind us. It had been a great day over all.

---