Page 37 of Between Passion and Revenge, Part One (The Griot Chronicles #1)

Looking at the group, she says, “And two for me! To my brilliant, amazing, incomparable, never-the-same bestie!” She shoots one shot and then the other right as Ezra puts on a Mike Pozner song.

The rest of us take the shots, the hot slide of it toward my stomach doing nothing to quell the anxious energy in my chest.

“Let’s talk,” Storm says, and the look he gives me has me wanting to follow his commands. I stand, pulling him along to my room.

“Don’t forget we got food and more celebrating to do!” Yenn says.

“The vertical kind, to be clear,” Ezra follows up.

I laugh, but it sounds weird in my ears, and Storm says something to them I don’t quite catch before I’m in my room with the door closed.

Sitting me on the edge of my bed, Storm kneels, putting his hands on my thighs.

“What’s wrong, Shae? And don’t say ‘nothing,’ because I know that’s not true.”

My nose starts to tingle as tears well in my eyes.

“I think I just realized I wasn’t expecting to get in,” I say, looking down at my hands. “I know I’m being stupid. I mean, I’d hoped to be here…but I think a big part of me always accepted this as a pipe dream.”

As reality sinks in, I almost want to laugh at the realization. Getting into Harvard was something I needed to do for the greater good, but not anything I thought I’d actually have to contend with.

And be honest…not anything you actually want.

“First, don’t say negative things about yourself, especially not in my presence. I don’t play about you with other people, and I won’t tolerate you being mean to yourself. Feel me?”

Storm delivers this command in a no-nonsense tone that has my back straightening in awareness.

“I feel you,” I whisper, talking into my jeans.

“Good,” he replies. Putting two fingers beneath my chin, he lifts my face so I’m staring directly into his green-hazel eyes.

“Second question: Is it that you don’t want to go that’s making you stressed?”

That question. That damn question.

“Be honest, Shae,” Storm says, his voice lower and his gaze never straying from mine.

I take a deep breath, trying the words on my tongue.

“Yes. I mean, who would turn down Harvard?”

Storm tilts his head, almost as if he doesn’t believe my response. Maybe if I say it clearly enough, I’ll fully embrace this as truth too.

“I want to go,” I reiterate. “I…I should want to go.”

At that, Storm nods as if my words verify his thoughts.

“You can lie to everyone else, but don’t lie to yourself.”

Well, damn.

I pull my hand from his and look away.

“You don’t understand, Storm,” I say.

“Try me. Help me understand, then.”

Releasing a sharp, agitated sound, I walk to my desk to straighten some loose papers.

“I’m stressed about it is all. Nervous, I guess.”

He makes a small noise behind me, and the air shifts when he stands.

“You’re the smartest person I know, though. You’ll be great. I believe in you.”

That. Ugh, that. This entire situation—everyone’s belief in me makes me want to scream and cry and run out the door. And maybe with time, I’ll get more used to the feeling of this next phase of my life, but right now?

Right now, I’m antsy. On edge. Searching for ways to sort through all I’m feeling.

“I know I’m smart and capable. This is just a new level, and I’m unsure I’m up for scrutiny from the folks there. I mean, I can move in any space, but this is just…a lot.”

Storm hums behind me. “You know that’s some made-up bullshit, right?”

I scoff, my eyebrows dropping as I frown at him.

“You don’t know what it’s like to pull yourself up from the bottom.

To have your intelligence questioned because you went to public school and don’t have a pedigree behind your name.

My father sacrificed everything, built our lives brick by brick, so I could succeed.

It’s my responsibility to make sure my family’s legacy is the brightest it can be, and I don’t want to fail.

I won’t fail. But that doesn’t mean the shit isn’t going to be hard. ”

Storm is silent for a long moment, but I refuse to face him.

I know I’m likely being unfair, but it’s also true.

Storm grew up with everything the material world has to offer.

The best schools, more money than my parents would earn in a hundred lifetimes, people waiting on his every need to make his life easy—his wealth and privilege allowing him to experience life in a completely different reality from mine.

“You think I don’t know what it’s like to be judged? To be the only brown face in a sea of whiteness and to be talked about like I’m sub-human just because I have more melanin in my skin than them? Shae, be so for real right now.”

My shoulders rise and his words cause me to spin around to face him. Storm sits on the bed in the spot I vacated. He looks relaxed with his hands dangling between his bent knees, but the fire in his emotions is plain to see.

“I’m not saying you haven’t experienced prejudice, Storm.

I can only imagine how completely fucked it must have been to be surrounded by people who wanted to ignore or erase your Blackness.

But you can’t sit here and tell me you haven’t benefited from the systems of oppression you decry and your relative position to whiteness. ”

He stares at me hard, and I realize this is the conversation we definitely need to have.

“I don’t deny any of that. In fact, the reality of my circumstances has been a slap to the face virtually every day of my life, Shae.”

Well, that makes me feel a bit like an ass.

“I’ll ask again, Shae. Do you want to go to Harvard? Because it really seems like you don’t.”

That bubbling feeling in my stomach shoots to my toes, then back up to my throat. I feel like I’m going to hurl everywhere.

“You remember when we were stuck in that elevator?” he asks suddenly, and I tilt my chin down in a sharp affirming jerk. Of course I remember, how could I forget?

“We talked about a lot of things, but once you started telling me about mPOWER, it was like you didn’t want to stop.

And that’s not me saying that I minded, but more to show you a very blatant fact: You’re an entrepreneur, Shae.

It’s your vocation to build businesses, to create something out of nothing.

Theory doesn’t light you up. Getting your hands dirty and being in it does. ”

I take a step back, shaking my head as I wrap my arms around myself. Maybe if I get far enough away from him, I won’t have to listen to his world-exploding declarations.

He continues, despite my retreat.

“You’ve never spoken about economics with the same energy you do when talking about the companies you’ve helped.

Hell, you were like a supernova when working on our presentation.

Sure, I did a lot of the number crunching and data validation, but the concept for BronzeLight?

The premise that got us an A when Hansen never gives As?

That was all you. You love that world, Shae, and in the time I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you excited, truly excited, about the idea of Harvard.

So why are you denying yourself? Why are you following a path that you obviously don’t want to take? ”

I side-step the question.

“Who do I look like to turn down Harvard ? It’s Harvard!”

Storm blinks at me as if he can’t believe I’m completely ignoring the harsh truth he’s thrown out.

“I know some real idiot assholes that go there,” he says, his words stiff. “And, I have to point out that you’re not answering my question. Not with words, at least.”

Enough. This is enough of this argument.

“Goddamn it, why are you making this so hard?” I snap. My teeth click together when I finish the sentence, and I resist grinding them.

He blinks a few times with a strange expression before he looks down at the floor, his jaw tensing.

“You know what, it’s fine. I…sorry,” I say.

Smile.

I hope it doesn’t look like I’m baring my teeth.

“Shae, c’mon, let’s not let this ruin the nig?—”

“Don’t worry about it, Storm,” I press. I give him one hard look, noting how his shoulders slump as he runs a hand over his face, then I turn away.

Sitting at my desk, I pull out a yellow notepad and pick up a blue ink pen as if preparing to take notes. I lean over my desk, keeping my face so close to the paper that I can smell the ink.

“It’s gonna get late, and I have a few more things to finish up tonight. I’ll see you later. Cool?” I say all this without looking at him, writing out the lyrics to Misery Business to keep my hands busy and make it look like I’m focused.

“Shae—”

“Goodbye, Storm.” I feel a little bad about my harsh tone, but I’m overwhelmed and need to be by myself to get my head together. If Storm stays any longer, I’m liable to bite his head off.

I don’t move until my door closes. Releasing a sigh, I drop my forehead to my desk and try not to think anymore.

It’s too much. I recognize I’m making a big deal out of this and tomorrow I’ll maybe, probably feel better about everything.

But right now? Right now, I want to lick my wounds in silence.

Yennifer doesn’t knock before entering, but I keep my head turned away from the door, my cheek pressed to the cold wood, as her distinctive scent reaches me.

When she hugs me from behind, I let the tears I’ve been holding back rush forward.

“Shae,” she says, her voice full of sympathy. “I’ll beat him up for you. Want me to have Daddy change his credit rating? I can do it, you know.”

That causes a laugh to break through my sobs, and I lift my head, turning in my chair to face her.

“No, it’s not him,” I say, wiping my face with a Kleenex from the box on my desk.

Yenn tilts her head. “Then why are you crying?”

I laugh again. “Because I’ve got an anxious-avoidant attachment style.”

She keeps her head tilted, but this time her eyebrows furrow.

“Shae, goddamn, you need to chill. You’re holding yourself to God-level perfection, and it’s not fair to you.”

I shrug one shoulder. “I know.”

“Then why are you doing it?”

I sigh. “It’s complicated.”

Yenn blows out a long breath before hopping up.

“You know what you need? You need to fucking relax. Clearly Sandoval ain’t hitting it right.”

“He ain’t hitting it at all,” I blurt out, not intending to reveal that tidbit of information. Yenn’s mouth drops.

“What do you mean !” she exclaims. I can tell she’s about to get animated, so I rush over to her, putting my hands on her forearms.

“Stop,” I plead. “Listen, that’s…complicated too.”

Yenn just stares at me with her mouth agape, shaking her head.

“All right, sis. I’ll let you keep your secrets.”

My shoulders drop, releasing tension.

“For now,” Yenn adds. I nod, even though my lips tighten.

“Sure,” I offer.

Accepting my statement, she claps once and says, “Come get your fill, girlie. We’re gonna drink a lot of alcohol tonight, and I want you to last for a while before you crash.”

When she spins out of the room, I take a few moments to clear my mind and suck in deep breaths.

Tomorrow, I’ll feel differently about everything. I just know I will.

I just hope my heart can survive my decisions.