Babcock College, the most prestigious school in the country. A place of stunning architecture, elite professors, and sky-high tuition fees. It was a dream beyond the reach of most middle-class families. That this woman was even suggesting it,
"Certainly, I would, ma'am," Tasha said, her voice filled with awe.
Sandra smiled, chewing thoughtfully. "Very well. I'll speak to the director and settle the fees. It's the least I can do for you—and your father."
Tasha nearly wept. She pressed her palms together under her chin, overwhelmed. She's giving me my dream, she thought.
"They'll need your credentials," Sandra added, "so we can finalize everything before the semester begins next Monday."
"I'll get them right away, ma'am." Tasha's voice quivered with joy.
"Yes—earlier is better," Sandra said, taking another bite.
Tasha hurried out of the room, her heart pounding. She touched her chest, joy bubbling over. She leaned against the staircase rail, laughing softly, brushing her fingers through her hair.
She didn't walk down the rest of the stairs. She floated.
*******
Harrison arrived hours after the others. They'd agreed over the phone to meet at the open fields Clinton was considering for his new penthouse. But now Clinton was having second thoughts. Another offer had come in, larger acreage, better location. He needed to see the first property again before making a final decision. The ocean-front portion made it hard to ignore.
As the boys talked in the wind, David glanced over and nodded. "He's here."
They turned toward Harrison, who strolled in from the distance, a familiar grin stretched across his face.
"We almost thought you weren't coming," Daniel said, shielding his eyes from the sudden gust sweeping through the field.
Harrison shrugged, slapping his thighs with both hands. "I overslept."
He recalled bolting from bed after realizing he'd slept through his alarm. He'd thrown the phone across the room in frustration, and it hadn't survived.
"I think I broke it," he added, catching his breath. "It didn't ring. Again."
David raised a brow, unimpressed. "You threw your phone because the alarm didn't go off?"
"Exactly." Harrison ran a hand through his wind-swept hair. "If it refuses to function, it deserves to die."
"You ever thought maybe you're the issue, not the phone?" David said, though he'd been in similar situations, tempted more than once to discard his own.
Harrison ignored the logic. "It barely lasted three weeks. I'll just get another."
The conversation was cut short by one of the pilots approaching. "We're ready when you are, gentlemen."
Clinton turned to his friends. "We good?"
They nodded. Samuel clapped him on the shoulder. "Let's go see your dream from the sky."
The chopper lifted over the acres, wind lashing their faces as they looked out over the trimmed green fields and the ocean's rhythmic dance. The coastline was stunning, like the sea knew it was being watched.
Clinton's decision was made.
"I love this," Daniel said. "First time I've seen you care about something this much. The ocean's calling, huh?"
Clinton nodded, texting someone. "Already emailed the accountant."
He hoped the firm's financial manager, his mother's pick, would approve the transfer quietly. He wasn't in the mood for another lecture. If his mother found out, she'd likely block the request just to remind him she still held the reins.
"If she hears, she'll shut it down," Samuel said knowingly.
Clinton sighed. "Exactly. She always does."
The pilot landed smoothly. "Pleasure flying with you, sir," he said, addressing Clinton with a reverent nod.
"I'll call when I need you," Clinton replied.
The man nodded again, silently praying he would. Clinton's payment had exceeded anything he'd made in 15 years of flying.
David stretched. "Pulp downtown? A few drinks before evening?"
Daniel frowned. "It'll be too noisy for Clinton. He'll bail in ten minutes."
Clinton looked up from his phone. "I won't. I'll stay, promise."
Harrison cleared his throat and stepped ahead of them, turning to face the group. They stopped walking.
"I'm throwing a party."
"Your birthday?" Daniel asked. He remembered the date, two weeks after the holidays.
"Yeah."
They all remembered last year's surprise bash, the one Harrison had completely forgotten until he walked into a hotel ballroom packed with friends and family. He'd danced and drank until midnight.
Clinton scratched his brow. "Glad you didn't forget this time."
"You better stay longer than fifteen minutes," Harrison teased.
Clinton smirked. "I'll try. For you."
"Dress sharp," Harrison called over his shoulder as he walked ahead.
"I always dress sharp!" the boys replied in unison, then laughed.
"Race to the bar?" Daniel shouted from his car, engine revving. "Losers buy the winner's drinks and winner would demand for anything from the rest!"
Before they could reply, he was gone in a blur.
David chuckled. "Let's not get arrested."
Still, they exchanged a look. The challenge was on.
⸻
Later – At the Bar
Vivian's heart nearly jumped from her chest when Clinton walked into the bar, relaxed, smiling, magnetic. He glanced once more through the glass doors before sliding into a window seat.
Vivian placed a tray on a table of girls still watching Clinton. She poured their drinks with unsteady hands, forcing their attention away from him.
"Careful," one of them snapped. "You nearly spilled that."
Vivian didn't bother replying. "Enjoy your drinks, ladies," she said coolly, turning toward Clinton's table.
Before she could ask for his order, the rest of the boys arrived, laughing, windblown and golden.
"I can't believe this," Daniel said, dropping into the seat beside Clinton. "I left first!"
"I took the shortcut," Clinton replied smoothly.
Harrison slapped his forehead. "How could I forget that street?"
"Traffic was a nightmare on my route," David muttered. "I almost got fined for honking like a lunatic."
Samuel, the last to arrive, leaned on the wall, out of breath. Vivian watched them all, heart pounding. Their energy, their laughter, it was intoxicating.
David's gaze met hers. Vivian's knees buckled.
"What should I serve you?" she asked, voice tight.
David turned to the group. "Drinks on me."
She nodded, scribbled down the orders, and fled to the bar, pressing a hand to her chest.
Their eyes could kill a bird, she thought.
Back at the table, they poured champagne.
Daniel's phone buzzed. He glanced at it, then dropped it face-down.
"Was that Sandra?" Harrison asked, teasing.
Vivian froze, halfway through placing glasses.
"No. Miranda," Daniel said, biting his lip.
David blinked. "You didn't."
"Easy," Daniel said, nonchalant.
David's face twisted in disbelief, then a loud crash interrupted them. The tray hit the floor.
Vivian's face turned crimson as she scurried away, a hand over her eyes.