Page 31 of From Asher, With Love

His confession forces a lump in my throat, and I swallow around it.

“There’s something else I wanted to show you tonight.” Kissing me one more time, he climbs off me and sits on the edge of my bed. I sit up and adjust the spaghetti straps of my tank top, scooting along the bed to sit beside him until my thigh is touching his.

He breathes heavily, digging into his pocket and pulling out a folded envelope, the seal already opened. He hands it to me.

I look down, reading the familiar blue letters in the top corner.

“Wait.” I look up at Asher, wide-eyed. “Is this…?”

He shrugs. “I applied in the spring at my old school. I didn’t think I’d get an answer this soon.”

“Is this what I think it is?” I whisper, struggling to contain my excitement. Blood rushes through my veins as I open the envelope. “Did you get in?” I ask him before I’ve even pulled the letter out.

Graduation is months away, but Asher told me he applied at the end of his junior year at his last school. Coincidentally, I did, too. It was another reason for me to tick off why I think we’re meant to be.

I don’t even have to open the letter to know what it says. Asher’s smile is just as wide as it was when he stumbled into my room a few moments ago.

“I got in,” he answers quietly. “And they’re giving me a full scholarship.”

“This is amazing. Congratulations, Asher.” Tears well behind my eyes, but I try to hide them. It isn’t that I don’t want him to see me cry; it’s that I don’t want to make this about me. Even though I applied in the spring, too, I haven’t received my acceptance letter yet, and as far as tuition goes, I’m not worried. My father agreed to pay for any school of my choice as long as I promised to finish. He happily agreed to my decisionto go to NYU.

“You’ll get yours soon,” Asher says, as if he’s reading my mind. He drags his thumb across my bottom lip. We may have only just had our first kiss and crossed a line from friends to more tonight, but this is now my favorite thing.

Asher looking at me likethat.

Touching me likethis.

“I hope so.” I nod, feeling my mouth tug into a tiny smile.

“You will,” he insists before pulling me in for another kiss.

When he eventually pulls away, I inhale an unsteady breath, wanting to keep the focus on Asher and his moment.

There’s a sparkle in his eye. He’s still looking at me as if he can’t believe what’s happened tonight.

“You’re going to be incredible at NYU.” I pause. “Have you told your mom?”

“No.” He massages the back of his neck. “She’s already terrified I’m going to leave her. I think telling her I’m going to college two hours away will break her.”

I frown. “I’m sorry.”

“I’ll figure out the right time to tell her.” He takes the acceptance letter from me and stares at it for several seconds. “I’m eighteen, so it isn’t like she’d have much of an argument when I leave, but I’m foolishly hoping for something I know she’s incapable of.” His face remains placid. “Acceptance.”

There are no words for this moment. I know Asher is right. Instead, I allow us to sit in the silence. My cotton shorts do nothing to ward off the slight chill in my bedroom, but Asher keeps me warm. I press my hands to my thighs, unsure if it’s okay to grab Asher’s hand. My thoughts are firing on all cylinders, scrambling to understand what we are exactly, and what this means for us.

“Do you think we’ll fit in in New York City?” he asks, staring out my bedroom window. “I mean, we don’t exactly fit in here, so what would make New York different?”

“I think we’ll fit in perfectly. We’re meant for bigger things than this, Asher. Well, at least I know you are.”

I try not to let him hear the sadness in my voice. As much as I try to picture myself surrounded with flowers in the city and Asher at my side, it’s difficult to imagine a life outside of the one I live now. A bubble covered in gold and luster, when it’s blanketed in darkness.

“Don’t do that,” he argues.

“Do what?”

“Say you won’t belong. You belong everywhere, Charleigh, and you’ll look good on New York.”

I giggle and tilt my head to the side. “I think you mean New York will look good onme.”

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