Filed to story: Katy and Brayden Cooper Novel
KATY’S POV
I shouldn’t be here. I should be by Allie’s side, holding her hand, and keeping her company because that’s exactly why I asked Braydon to grab my stuff last night. But…Mrs. Katherine had other plans.
“I know you’re worried about her,” she had said, peering at me, “but she’s in good hands. You shouldn’t fall behind in your classes and besides, you can take notes for Allie.”
I tried to explain I’d been keeping up with the lectures on my own, but of course, she didn’t hear that. She just assumed I was making excuses to hover over Allie.
So here I am, physically present, but my mind? MIA. And what’s the point of being in class when my entire brain is somewhere else?
And the noise-oh, the noise. Everyone seems to have decided that today is the day to be particularly loud with whispers, chatter, and laughter bouncing off the walls. Most people are talking about the Blackrock grant, boasting about their genius ideas like they’ve already got it in the bag and honestly? I hate it.
“Hey, Katy.” Sofia greets as she slides into the seat next to me. Great. Can this morning get any worse? “Where’s Allie?” she asks.
“With her mum,” I answer, pulling my phone out of my bag. Maybe if I look busy enough, she’ll take the hint and leave me alone for a bit.
But don’t get me wrong-Sofia’s a nice girl. Really, she is. But there’s a reason she never has a seat partner. She’s the campus gossip, the kind who seems to store every bit of drama in her head…and then spills it to anyone who’ll listen. I’m sure she already imagined Allie and I had a fight since we seat together most of the time and that’s the only reason she came here. To get the details.
“So,” she leans closer, lowering her voice like she’s about to share a secret, “who do you think’s going to win this grant thing?” She pokes my side lightly and her eyes narrow playfully. “And it’s true, you didn’t text me back last night. I was just trying to be a girl’s girl, you know?”
I glance at her, forcing a smile I don’t feel. “You really can’t tell who’s going to win.”
She nudges me again, and my fingers tighten around my phone. “Come on, don’t be modest. I know you’re rooting for yourself. Admit it, you think you’re gonna win.”
First of all, Sofia, I didn’t even submit an application for the damn thing. Second, if I was actually competing, who else would I root for? My enemies? And lastly…can you please stop nudging me?
Of course, I don’t say any of that to her. It all stays in my head.
Instead, I giggle softly, the kind of sound you make when you don’t want to answer a question or keep a conversation going. Apparently, she picks up on it, because she nods and turns to the guy chewing gum obnoxiously behind us.
They start talking about the Blackrock grant again, and I force myself to zone out. Still, Sofia’s voice slices through my concentration like she’s yelling directly into my brain.
“Why are you even entering if you’re not interested?” she asks the guy.
“My mum’s forcing me,” he says lazily. “I’m just doing it to make her get off my back.”
My chest tightens. How unfair is the world? Here I am, desperate for this exact same opportunity, and he’s treating it like it’s nothing, probably because he can afford to.
“Well, according to the countdown on the website, the application closes in an hour, ten minutes. So you should pay for it,” Sofia tells him.
Then she launches into a step-by-step explanation of the application process: input your sss, full name, pay the fee, wait for a confirmation sss once the countdown ends. The guy’s clueless about everything, and honestly…listening to him is almost as annoying as listening to Sofia.
Luckily, salvation comes when our professor finally steps in and starts the lecture. I force myself to focus, scribbling down notes mostly because of Allie’s mom. My mind, however, is still halfway in the hospital, imagining Allie’s face every few seconds.
Unfortunately, the end of class coincides with the official closure of the Blackrock grant application. As soon as the professor leaves, a voice shouts from the back,
“I’m in, people!”
Laughter erupts around the hall, and soon everyone’s phones are chiming and buzzing with confirmation emails. I glance around at my classmates, their excitement buzzing in the air and my chest tightens.
I rise, shoving my notebook and pen into my bag, eager to escape the chaos. Clearly, a ton of people signed up, and I have zero energy to deal with the excitement right now.
Just then, a familiar figure stops in front of my desk. I look up and see Zhao Lan holding his phone, his eyes scanning me from head to toe.
“You’re not staring at your phone like everyone else,” he observes, his tone half amused, half reproachful. “And you look devastated. Huh…guess I was right. Come on, Katy, you should’ve told me you couldn’t afford it.”
Instead of answering him, I pick up my phone to text Braydon, asking him to come grab me so we can head back to the hospital. Normally, I might’ve responded to Zhao Lan, maybe even thrown in a sarcastic remark, but today…today I’m exhausted.
I’m still typing when a notification pops up on my screen.
“CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR SUCCESSFUL APPLICATION TO THE BLACKROCK GRANT.”
I freeze. My stomach flutters and my heart feels like it’s trying to hammer its way out. For a moment, I just stare at the screen, convinced I misread it.
Carefully, almost hesitantly, I click the sss. My eyes scan the words again, slower this time, as if reading too fast will make it disappear.
“Click this link to update your profile and start your official…”
No way.
Am I seeing this right? Am I hallucinating?
This has to be a glitch. I didn’t even apply for this so why am I getting this sss?
My shaky hands hover over the link before I click on it, just to be sure it’s real. The page loads, and there it is: my dashboard. My name, Katy Evans, right at the top.
I exhale slowly, gripping my phone and looking around to be sure this is real. Is this what people call a miracle? Did I just somehow win the lottery without even buying a ticket? I want to scream, jump, and cry all at the same time but I can’t.
What if it’s a mistake? What if I celebrate too soon and it gets taken back?
I glance around the room, trying to make sense of it, and spot a girl who seems completely unbothered by the noise.
“Hey,” I turn to her, “did you apply for the grant?”
She shakes her head.
“Did you get any sss…like from them?”
She shakes her head again. I nod and watch her walk away, my confusion deepening.
Why me? Why did I receive this sss? Should I be happy?
“You see, my idea will be so-” Zhao Lan’s voice cuts through my fog of thoughts. I grab my bag, nudge him lightly aside, and keep moving, still staring at the sss. Over and over, I reread the words with no idea why they are there.
“What’s on your mind?”
I snap my head toward Braydon and he’s glancing at me from the corner of his eyes, one hand on the steering wheel.
“Me? Nothing,” I reply, forcing a nonchalant tone.
“You’ve been staring at your phone and looking out the window this entire time,” he points out.