Jovie & Bash

Nine || Plethora

|CHAPTER NINE|

Quinn had our celebratory summer playlist on loop while we sat side by side atop her bed, both with empty Word documents glaring at us. She had a stack of college letters between us, and a list of everything she would need to apply to each one stuck between her fingers. My head rested on her headboard, eyes staring blankly out at her tidy bedroom—particularly at her closet door, which was burdened with a plethora of pictures taped to its exterior. Everything I worked so hard for all my life now dangled just out of my reach by a college that may or may not accept me. I let out a deep groan.

“This is madness.”

Quinn laughed a few melodic notes and sat up. “Which part? The essay or the recommendations? Perhaps the list of extra-curriculars? Your GPA? The transcripts?”

I groaned again, this time louder. “The fact that I have to be so thorough about a school.”

Quinn agreed by nodding. “Well, at least you’re set, Miss 4.0. Plus, I know you’ve got an impressive list of volunteering to brag about.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I quipped.

“It’s harder for me, that’s all,” Quinn continued with a pout. “I’m a B-average at best. Thank God you dragged me along to some of your mom’s projects, otherwise I’d be screwed. The only other thing worth noting is that one year as a cheerleader and the two school productions I had minor roles in. Clubs are lame.”

“They are,” I agreed with little enthusiasm. “Where are you all applying?”

“In-state universities, mostly.” She shrugged. “What about you?”

“Everywhere. Anywhere but here.”

She rolled her eyes and rocked herself into my shoulder. “Ashwood Creek isn’t so bad.”

“You’re not the face of the biggest scandal in town,” I argued, though futilely since she always had a counter for everything. Quinn thought she was going nowhere, but I always thought she’d make a fine lawyer.

“Nobody remembers that. They see you now, and you’re a huge success,” she told me earnestly. “Gosh, you should hear the way Meredith brags about you to my mom.”

My brows furrowed. “My mother brags about me?”

Quinn nodded, smiling hugely. “Yeah, she was just over the other day all proud about you getting a letter from Yale—congrats, by the way.”

“It was just a letter of consideration,” I mumbled with a blush. “Well, she never said anything to me about it. Just told me to check the mail for something important and then disappeared. Pretty typical.”

Quinn’s eyes lowered to her lap where she took time examining her chipping nail polish. I tucked hair behind my year and settled back to gather my thoughts for an essay, but before I could type anything, Quinn spoke again.

“I know it’s none of my business,” she began a little hesitantly, remembering how our last argument ended. “But, I really think you guys need to sit down and have a heart to heart.”

I groaned at how ridiculous that sounded. My mother and I? Have a meaningful conversation? We were not so emotional.

“Oh, come on, Jovie!” She pressed upon seeing the discomfort distort my features. You’re nearly eighteen and the last time you two had a nice long hug was probably elementary school.”

“It’s...hard to talk to her,” I explained with frustration hanging in my voice. “I kind of blew up about Henry to her the other day and she ran away. We can’t talk about anything deep without getting awkward. Neither of us are open enough for that.”