Be My Girlfriend

64

Brittany's P.O.V.

Jo is too good, and she doesn't even realize it.

She has a bright future ahead of her, but she doesn't see it the way I do.

"Go to Princeton," she suddenly said after a few minutes of silence.

"Okay?" I blinked, caught off guard.

"You clearly don't know where you want to go. We're just a few months away from graduation, Brit. Do you even check schools? Are you even sending applications?"

I straightened up in my seat, guilt pricking me.

"Well..."

"Brit, don't go to Princeton just for your parents. Go for yourself. It's a great school. Send your application—they'd be fools not to take you."

Should I tell her? That even without an application, I'd get in? That my parents' connections make it easy?

No. Better not.

The truth is, I didn't want to go to Princeton. But Jo was right—I hadn't even looked at other schools. I didn't have a list, I hadn't applied anywhere else. I'd just been floating, ignoring it, pretending I had time.

"So, if I go there... then where are you going?" I asked, my voice a little lower. Both of us had been dreading this question.

Where am I going? Where is she going? What happens to us? Will we still see each other?

Silence stretched between us. Jo stared down at her hands, probably thinking carefully about what to say.

"What city did you plan on going to after graduation?" I tried again.

She sighed. "Well, to be honest, I don't know yet. I just keep thinking I need to get away from here. I didn't even picture a place, just... away."

"Hmm... If you don't know yet, then why don't you come with me to New Jersey?" I said quickly, trying to sound casual, but my heart was racing. "You could find a job there while I'm in college. We could live together, split rent, save money. I mean—"

"I know what you mean, Brit." She cut in gently. "But I don't know... maybe I'll go with you, or maybe I'll find my own path. I just don't know right now."

I studied her face. She looked unsure, maybe even worried about something she wasn't saying. There was something in her eyes, like she was holding back or avoiding the truth.

I wanted to push, to ask—but I stopped myself.

Instead, I reached for her hand. "Okay. Then how about... we figure it out together?"

Her eyes met mine, and she gave me a small smile. "Yeah. I'd like that."

Her answer should have been enough. 

But even as she smiled at me, the worry stayed in my chest.

What if we don't figure it out? What if she goes one way and I go another? What if I lose her?

I didn't want to imagine my days without her voice, her laugh, her beautiful face. 

In just months, she had become my safe place, my constant, and I wasn't ready to let that go. 

Jo leaned back on the lounger, her hand still in mine, looking calm and steady. Meanwhile, my thoughts were racing.

I watched her quietly—the way the light touched her hair, the small smile on her lips. She was so strong, even when she doubted herself. She didn't even know how much she meant, not just to me, but to the whole world if they could see her the way I do.

"Don't look at me like that," Jo said suddenly, catching me staring. Her tone was light, teasing.

I blinked. "Like what?"

"Like you're trying to memorize my face," she said, giving me a playful side glance.

Maybe I am, I thought. Maybe I'm scared one day I won't see it every day.

I gave her hand a squeeze. "Just looking," I said softly.

She smiled a little, curious, but didn't ask more. And I was glad—because I wasn't ready to tell her all the things rushing in my head.

A few hours had passed, and we both drifted off to sleep. If one of the maids hadn't came by to wake us up, we probably would have stayed here all night.

We spent the rest of the afternoon in my room, just like I had planned.

"Sleep over here, Jo," I said softly, turning to face her. My fingers played at the edge of the comforter that was covering her bare body.

She quickly brushed my hand away and pulled the blanket up to her neck, hiding a smile.

"I have this art project I need to finish tonight. The submission's tomorrow, and it's just sitting at home waiting for me," she said with a grin before slipping out of bed, still clutching the comforter around herself.

She bent down and started gathering her clothes, picking them up one by one before slowly getting dressed.

"Well, maybe I can help," I said, half teasing. "I'll sleep over at your place for a change."

She turned to look at me and chuckled, like I had just told the funniest joke.

"My bed is nowhere near as soft as yours, and definitely smaller. You'd toss and turn all night. Plus, I really need to focus, babe." She winked as she pulled on her shirt. "You'll see me tomorrow, don't worry."

She leaned over and kissed me—first on my forehead, then on both cheeks, then my nose, and finally on my lips.

It was the sweetest gesture, one that made my chest feel warm.

"C'mon, get dressed and take me home," she whispered, handing me my clothes with a little smile.

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