"My whole family is acting super weird lately. I feel like they know something. I doubt Charlie would have told them about us, though. But then again, maybe I'm wrong. Wait . . . Do you think that they know about the night I snuck out with you? They must. I probably wasn't as conspicuous as I had thought. If any of the three of them had gone into my room to check on me after hearing any of the commotion, they would have seen that my bed is empty. God, I'm so stupid. Thanks for coming that night, though. It meant a lot," I say quickly, until Bryce suddenly cuts me off by pressing his mouth to mine.

My eyes fly open wide before I adjust, sinking into the kiss.

He's holding my face carefully, and I wrap my arms around the back of his neck, desperate to draw myself closer to his body, but that's when he breaks away from me.

"You're rambling, love. Take a deep breath," Bryce instructs, and I close my eyes, breathing in as he suggests.

He keeps his hands on my face, and when I finally open my eyes again, he's watching me intently.

"I'm sorry. I'm just stressed. I don't know what time decisions come out yet. I guess I'll have to just check my email obsessively all day," I tell

him quietly, and he just nods to me as he carefully brushes his thumb across my lips.

He doesn't say anything to me, and all I do is stare back, feelings my heart racing even faster.

"You always have so many cute nicknames for me. You don't even call me by my real name, ever. Does it bother you that I only just call you 'Bryce'?" I ask him, and his eyebrows furrow at me.

"You're trying to change the topic," he observes, but soon lets it go, sighing. "No. It doesn't bother me. I get that you're not comfortable calling me anything else."

Now it's my turn to make a confused face.

"It's not that I'm uncomfortable; it's just that I've never thought about it," I defend, and Bryce suddenly has a playful twinkle in his eyes.

"Sure. I definitely believe you, Blossom," he teases, before dropping his hands from my face and intertwining our fingers instead.

"Now, let's head to school. It's 9:19," he says to me, guiding me out of the kitchen.

I find myself biting my lip in anticipation until I say, "You should believe me, baby."

Bryce freezes in his tracks.

He seems to be thinking for a moment, until he lets out a long breath.

"Fuck," he mutters, before continuing to walk until we reach the front door.

I separate from him, slipping on a pair of knee-high boots and not bothering with a jacket. Bryce didn't bother taking his shoes off when I let him inside, assuming that there would be a quick turnaround.

But, since he arrived so early, we had some time to kill before we had to depart from school. We spent that time chatting without worrying about being overheard as my parents and Charlie had left for work and school already, and it really was a good start to the day.

I wish this was how I could spend every single morning of my life.

Seeing as it's finally April, the weather is beginning to warm up, even though I know that we're due for buckets and buckets of rain over the next few weeks.

I suppose that means no more walks in the park at three in the morning with Bryce, but I'm sure he'll think of some other way to steal as much of my time as possible.

"Your legs are incredible," Bryce says, and I jump as I feel his fingertips trailing up the back of my thigh.

He chuckles as I pull away from him, opening the front door before grabbing my bag and stepping outside onto the porch. Bryce follows me and I lock the door behind us before taking his hand, walking towards his truck.

We climb into the vehicle, and Bryce allows me to plug my phone in and play whatever music I want as he drives. I choose Mariah Carey, of course, and he laughs, avoiding actually commenting though.

I feel bad that I didn't speak to him the whole ride, but I got lost in my thoughts as I stared out the window at the blur of cars passing by us the majority of the time. The fear of what's going to happen today is so suffocating that I almost find myself physically choking, and it takes everything inside of me to not start sobbing.

This has been my dream for so long. And now, in a matter of hours, it's probably going to be torn away from me.

Everything will be easier if I don't get in. My parents started up saving college funds for Charlie and I years and years ago, and I have some money saved up from professional shows and performances I've done, but it's nowhere near enough to cover the costs of tuition at Juilliard. University here is so much cheaper than in the United States, and I would be in way less debt if I just continued living in this small city rather than in New York.

But I know that I wouldn't be happy, because that's not the direction I want my life to take.

Not to mention that I won't have Bryce by my side.

Before I can control it, the tears begin to fall, warm and heavy down my cheeks. I press a hand over my mouth to try and stop the sobs, hoping that Bryce will somehow not notice the situation until after I get a grip on my emotions, but of course that's a dumb thought.

Bryce glances towards me, but he doesn't say anything.

I can only assume that he's sick of all the crying I've been doing lately, but I'm just so overwhelmed.

He's much better at controlling his feelings than I am, and though I wish I could be more like him in that sense, I'm not. I understand why he's probably tired of having to coach me through all my breakdowns, but there have been so many things going in my life at the moment that I'm generally having a difficult time.

I'm biting down on the inside of my cheek as Bryce pulls into the lot behind our school. He parks the car, and I'm about to speedily climb out of the car to avoid further shame until Bryce's hand reaches across, undoing my seatbelt.

His hands are on my waist, and before I know it, I've been pulled into his lap, his strong arms tight around me.

I instantly bury my face into his chest, drenching the cloth in my tears which he never seems to mind.

"I'm so scared. I have a bad feeling about today," I whimper, which just makes Bryce's hold on me tighten.

"We're going to be okay," he says, and all I can do is nod as I try to collect myself.

Bryce gives me a couple minutes, and I don't move, not one inch. I've kept my face against his shoulder, arms around his neck the whole time, and when I finally pull away to look at Bryce, I feel a new surge of emotions.

A few tears have fallen down his cheeks, and he's quick to wipe them away when I see him. I take his jaw between my hands, holding his gaze for a moment before feeling myself shatter all over again.

"What's wrong?" I ask, a completely foolish question, but oddly enough, Bryce ends up smiling in response.

"I'm fucking terrified, that's all," he chuckles, and it's somehow enough to make me grin.

"There's that pretty smile that I was missing. Now let's go inside, okay?" Bryce says, and I nod to him.

With this permission, he opens up the car door, keeping me in his arms as he steps out. Setting me down on the ground, I walk across to retrieve my backpack from my side of the car before joining Bryce again.

He wraps his arms around my shoulders as we walk through the crowded parking lot.

I notice him humming a song that I can't recognize under his breath, and so I decide to ask him about it.

"What song is that? I've never heard it before?" I question, and his eyes suddenly go wide as we walk up the stairs to the front entrance.

Bryce opens the door for me and I give him a small smile, stepping through with him directly behind me.

"It's just something I've been working on. I didn't realize I was humming it. My bad," Bryce says quietly, and I suddenly stop walking.

We're currently alone in this portion of the hallway, but I still keep my voice low when I ask, "Is music what you want to do with your life? As a career? Do you really want to go study for academics?"

Bryce's jaw clenches, but not out of anger; out of nerves. I can tell by the way his face shifts slightly, before his eyes meet mine.

"I . . . I'm going to see how this whole social media thing goes. I make good money off it all as is, but it isn't what I want to be doing for my whole life. I wish I could make music all day everyday but my grandpa always tells me how I'm practically putting my good brain to waist with music . . . I'm fine. I'm going to Columbia, I'm getting my MBA, and I'll see what happens next," he says wearily, before continuing to walk.

"You deserve to do what you're passionate about," I tell him as we walk up the stairs and towards our lockers.

He takes a movement to think this through, before answering me by saying, "I'm passionate about music. But I'm also passionate about math and science, business and literature. I'm trying to find a healthy mix, and I think that majoring in the sciences and doing music as strictly a hobby is what's good for me."

I must look distraught, because as we stop in front of our lockers, Bryce turns to face me.

"Hey, don't worry about me. I'm figuring it out. I have some opportunities lined up for me in New York, and I think it's all going to turn out just fine and dandy," he says, a fake smile at the corners of his lips.

I appreciate that he's trying to keep up a brave front for me, I really do, but after all of my feelings that I've let out to him, I have no problem sitting down and letting him rant.

We grab our things from our lockers, tucking them into our backpacks before having to head to class at the sudden sound of the bell ringing. We're no longer alone in the hallways as students begin filing out of their respective classrooms, and it makes it far more difficult to get to the kitchen.

This same old routine is getting old; it's been nearly three years, and I'm ready for something new.

We're still the first people to arrive at class, even before our teacher. Because of this, we stand leaning against the wall by the door, waiting for her to arrive and allow us inside.

"Blossom?" Bryce asks all of a sudden, and I look up at him to discover a worried expression on his face.

"Yeah?" I ask, both hesitant and scared now.

I'm convinced that he's about to deliver bad news, but I don't know what else he could possibly say that could make all of this any worse.

"I'm leaving for New York the second of July. I won't be here for the summer. I have some meetings I have to attend at the beginning of the month, and then I have to obtain my apartment. I'm really sorry," he says quietly.

I feel my heart break into a trillion pieces.

This can't be real. There's no way he can be serious right now. He must be messing with me.

Other students have arrived, so it's not like I can let my emotions out at all right now, but I find myself involuntarily rocking back and forth on my heels, pursing my lips together.

"What do you mean? What about if I don't get into Juilliard? Summer may be our last chance to spend time together until you come home for Christmas break. We were supposed to have that time to be alone with one another, and now you're telling me that that's not even going to be possible?" I ask, hushed, feeling my whole body tremble.

Bryce stares at me, helpless. "I wish I could control it. I really am sorry, but I have to be there. It's important. I'll tell you all about it when I can," he apologizes, and I feel the sudden urge to grab my phone from my pocket.

Opening up my inbox, I refresh the page once.

"Have you heard anything yet?" Bryce asks.

I shake my head at him.

🌸🌸🌸

"Why is the happy couple suddenly not so happy?" Jordan asks Bryce and I as we take our seats beside him at our usual table in the cafeteria.

It's absurd to realize that these next couple months are our last time eating lunch together like this five days a week.

It's even scarier to know that I may not see some of my friends ever again when we part ways for university.

Bryce and I have practically been clinging on to each other for the past hour, even as we were cooking. It made class difficult, but I'm seeing now that our window of time together is growing more and more narrow.

When we set our food down on the table, I grab my phone from my pocket. I refresh my inbox again for the fifth time in the past hour, but alas, nothing new.

"I'm leaving for New York at the beginning of July, which means that Lexi and I won't be together this summer. No one is dying. It's all good," Bryce says, putting on a smile for everybody else to see.

"So that means you got into Columbia? Nice job," Jordan observes, pattinv Bryce on the back.

Bryce grins at him, nodding his head, and everyone else congratulates him as well.

"Lex? Have you gotten the email yet?" my brother asks from across the table, and I refresh my phone once again.

Of course, nothing has changed, and so I give him a defeated shake of my head.

Bryce reaches down, taking my hand in his.