Chapter 23
"Here's one," I stated, "It says it's offered to people with a grade point average above 3.75. That means you, my darling," I stated, and she rolled her eyes at the sarcastic pet name.
"What are the specifics?"
"You have to write an essay on a person that inspires you. You could do your brother, Aster. How he's always been there for you and all that. I think it'd be really good."
"Yeah, maybe," she answered.
We were in my room, laying down with each of our laptops in our laps, googling Gardenia's scholarship options. There were a lot, but none that really fit her situation. She wasn't very good at art, she didn't do any extracurricular activities, and so she could only apply for scholarships that had to do with writing.
"Ooh, a poetry contest. Can you write poetry?"
"I won second place in a Poetry Slam once."
"What is a Poetry Slam?" I asked, having never heard of that term in my life.
"It's like a talent show, but for poetry. It was in like 7th grade, though," she laughed, and I shrugged, saving the page on my laptop.
"Okay, so we have an essay one, a poetry one, what else," I stated to myself, scrolling through them. "Are you sure you're not very good at art? I swear, every single scholarship requires art."
"I'm positive, Harry," she giggled, which was music to my ears, "I can't draw to save my life."
We were silent for a few more minutes, reading all of the scholarships before she spoke, "Here's another essay one, on something that changed your life."
"That'd be good," I responded, and she sighed, pushing the laptop off of her lap and stretching.
"I'm tired of doing this, can we take a break?"
"Yeah, yeah, but not a long one. There's deadlines, you know," I reminded her, closing my laptop and setting it on the floor next to my air mattress of a bed. She nodded in acceptance, turning her body so she was laying on her stomach, her hands holding her head up as she looked at me.
"You don't want to go to college?" She asked, and I shrugged, not really knowing.
"There's nothing I really wanna do, you know? I don't want to waste money on going to school, when I may not even need it for whatever career I choose to do."
"That's true," she answered softly, moving her left hand to trace up and down my forearms. "Can you tell me why you have a naked mermaid on your arm? It's offensive."
I laughed, looking down at the sea creature, "'Was drunk when I got it, to be fair. My mate Tom and I have similar ones. In order to make it seem better, I tell people it's supposed to represent freedom. Like, she's free because she's naked, but also because she's a mermaid and she's free. She has an entire ocean to do as she pleases. But really, it's a drunken mistake that I would take back in a heartbeat."
"And what's this, a rose?"
"Yep," I answered, and goosebumps rose as she traced it.
"What's the meaning to that one?"
"I got it the day you told me your name was Rose," I stated seriously, and as expected, her eyes widened as she looked from the tattoo up to my eyes.
"You didn't," she gasped, looking quite alarmed. I chuckled, shaking my head.
"No, I didn't. Not to be morbid, but I got this when my parents got a divorce. A black rose symbolizes death, or a farewell, and it's not fully black but it's outlined in black. Anyway, I got it as kind of a farewell to my dad. I've never been close to him, really, but when my mum finally broke up with him, it was like my last connection to him was cut off. And so I got this as a symbol of that, I dunno."
