Chapter 18
Joycelyn’s POV
It had been over a year since that hotel room confrontation, and Nathan and I hadn’t crossed paths
since.
His face was still as handsome as ever, but the cocky confidence that had defined him at Boulder High was gone. His shoulders slumped slightly under his Plymouth State University hoodie, their forest green a stark contrast to the crimson Harvard banners hanging in the auditorium behind us.
He fidgeted with the event program, eyes darting around the elegant venue as though he felt out of place among the tech entrepreneurs and academic overachievers.
“I didn’t mean to ambush you,” he said, his voice lower than I remembered. “Your talk was listed on the TEDX website. I just wanted to… I don’t know, see how you were doing.”
As he spoke, his eyes studied me with an intensity that felt like he was trying to memorize every detail–like he was cataloging this moment to replay during late nights in his cramped New Hampshire dorm room.
After what felt like forever, he finally looked away with a hollow laugh.
“For a while, I kept telling myself it was just a matter of time, you know? That maybe someday you’d answer one of my texts,” he admitted. “But then I saw your interview in Wired, and that feature MIT Technology Review did on your algorithm… I finally got it. You’re going places I can’t even find on a
map.”
His awkward metaphor hung in the air between us. I nodded noncommittally and pulled a sealed envelope from my laptop bag, sliding it across the small cocktail table between us.
“There’s a cashier’s check for twenty thousand dollars inside,” I said matter–of–factly.
During our time together, I’d accepted Nathan’s “generosity” without hesitation. My tuition, living expenses, even weekend trips to Denver–he’d covered everything with his parents‘ credit card.
People at school had whispered behind my back, calling me calculating, a gold–digger taking advantage of the football star’s family money.
But why shouldn’t I?
Quarterback King
89.5%
Chapter 18
For once in my life, I didn’t have to work night shifts or count pennies for bus fare. At eighteen, my world finally had some breathing room.
Nathan immediately pushed the envelope back, confusion written across his face.
“I’m not giving you this money because I think I owe you,” I clarified.
I smiled coolly. “Think of it as a loan I took out against my future potential. Today, I’m just closing
the account.”
As I turned to rejoin the post–event reception, Nathan called after me.
“Joycelyn.”
Like the golden boy of Boulder High himself, with that face that had launched a thousand prom queen campaigns…
“I really was-” His voice caught on something that sounded like regret.
I didn’t turn around, just raised my hand in a casual wave.
“Of course you were.”
“One of a kind and bright as the fucking sun.”
“Goodbye, Nathan. Don’t look for me again.”
(0)
-2-2 Vina
日(0)
