Amy’s POV
I had barely walked through the school parking lot before I saw him. James was already leaning against his Jeep, wearing that familiar crooked grin and tapping his fingers against the hood like he had been waiting forever. As soon as I got close enough, I stopped in front of him, heart hammering in my chest.
“I have something to tell you,” I said, breathless, the words already rushing out. “I got it. The NYC internship. They picked me.”
There was a heartbeat of silence, and then his face lit up like fireworks.
“You what?” he said, eyes wide. “Amy, you—no way—”
Before I could finish another word, he lifted me off the ground in one smooth, spontaneous movement and spun me in a wide circle like we had just won the Super Bowl. I laughed out loud, surprised and dizzy and full of pure joy. His hands were strong and steady around my waist, and for the first time in a long time, the weight on my shoulders didn’t feel so heavy.
“You did it!” he shouted, setting me down but keeping me close. “I knew you would. I knew it.”
I looked up at him, still smiling. “It’s a summer program. Eight weeks in New York City. And it’s competitive. I thought it was a long shot.”
“Well,” James said, brushing my hair back from my face, “long shots are kind of your thing lately.”
I laughed again, but the tears in my eyes were real. I had wanted this for so long, and now that it was happening, it didn’t feel real.
“Okay,” James said suddenly, stepping back and clapping his hands. “That settles it. We’re celebrating—tonight. You, me, and a rooftop.”
“A rooftop?” I raised my eyebrow.
He winked. “Trust me.”
And of course, I did.
Later that evening, we climbed to the top of the old bookstore in town—the one with the cracked red bricks and the view that overlooked the glowing city skyline. We spread out a blanket, brought sodas in glass bottles, and shared greasy pizza from the corner shop while the stars blinked quietly above us. The city lights glittered far below, and everything felt far away and magical.
For a long time, we didn’t talk. We just sat side by side, fingers tangled, watching the night slowly unfold.
Then, I whispered, “What if we’re too young for this? For all of it?”
James didn’t answer right away. Instead, he turned to face me fully, his hand finding mine and holding it gently.
“Then we’ll grow into it,” he said softly, “together.”
The way he said that—so sure, so steady—made my chest ache in the best way.
Then, without a word, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. My heart stopped. My breath caught in my throat.
“James—” I gasped, suddenly frozen in place.
He laughed softly, opening the box just enough to reveal a thin, silver ring resting inside on dark fabric. A tiny blue stone sparkled under the stars.
“Relax,” he said, grinning. “It’s not what you think. I’m not proposing, Amy.”
My whole body released a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, and I covered my mouth with my hand, still laughing.
“It’s a promise ring,” he explained. “It’s just a start. A way to say I’m not going anywhere.”
I looked at the ring again, my heart pounding. It was beautiful, simple, and perfect.
And more than anything, it felt like hope.
“I love it,” I whispered. “I love you.”
He leaned in slowly, and I met him halfway. Our kiss was soft, slow, and full of everything that words hadn’t said yet. It wasn’t rushed or dramatic. It was quiet and real, like a truth we both already knew.
We stayed like that for a while, curled up on the rooftop beneath the stars, our shoulders touching, our hearts beating in sync.
Then his phone buzzed.
He didn’t check it at first. But when it buzzed again, and again, he finally sighed and pulled it out of his pocket.
“I swear,” he muttered, “if this is another text from Ryan about protein shakes—”
But when he opened the screen, the joking fell away.
“What is it?” I asked, sitting up straighter.
James didn’t answer. He stared at the screen, his eyes scanning the message slowly, his expression darkening.
He turned the phone so I could see it too.
The subject line read:
Scholarship Violation Report Filed – Urgent Action Required.
A chill ran down my spine.
James clicked the email open. His jaw clenched as he read it aloud, voice low.
“I’m being accused of misconduct and academic dishonesty,” he said, pausing. “And the report… it was filed anonymously.”
I leaned closer, reading over his shoulder. At the very bottom of the message, in fine print, was the source of the complaint.
Reported and submitted by a representative of the Reyes Law Firm.
My breath caught.
That was Charlie’s father’s firm.
James looked at me, his eyes wide but steady.
“They’re trying to take everything,” he whispered.