Page 54 of The Brave and the Reckless (Bravetown #1)

JustHavenly: New Haven Guided Tours

Yale and New Haven are deeply connected, so we recommend starting your visit to New Haven with one of our JustHavenly fully guided campus tours.

If you have visited before and want a more in-depth experience or would simply like to base your tour on a specific area of interest, JustHavenly offers private tours with a focus on architecture, art or history.

Don’t miss out!

Book today!

E SRA

There was a perfectly good chance that Rodney Junior had grown up into a normal adult without murderous tendencies, but I could hardly listen to a word he said as he led me and my parents around campus.

He hadn’t even acknowledged the sling around my arm.

Considering he was the boy who’d caused my very first dislocated shoulder, I would have liked at least one little joke in a futile attempt to leave the past behind us. Silly kids , and all that.

Nothing .

The fact that he seemed so normal with his polo shirt and brown loafers just made it harder to believe that he actually was. He could be Yale’s own Patrick Bateman.

“What do you think, Esra?” Dad asked, smiling at something Rodney Junior had said.

“I’m not sure yet,” I said. I had no clue what they were talking about, but sounding critical always seemed to work on the academics.

Rodney beamed, his teeth bleached to the point of glowing blue. “You’re absolutely right to be skeptical. Never trust someone else’s word when you can make up your own mind, right?”

Bingo.

I almost laughed at how easy it was to feign interest as we wandered down the hallways of the School of Public Health. Apparently, Rodney Junior was trying hard to follow in the footsteps of daddy dearest, so he was doing his old man a favor by playing tour guide for us all day.

Yay me.

I was just here because after two weeks of carrying the course catalog around like an alibi when I was really just wallowing, my mother had decided it was now time for me to start working on my future .

I still had zero interest in going back to school.

But I figured if I went on one campus tour, I could get my parents to back off with a little hmm, I’m not sure yet for another month or so.

The only thing that really stood out to me about Yale was the lack of air conditioning.

Sweat slowly trickled down my back and I fanned myself with my brochure as we walked down one long hallway with doors and into another long hallway with doors.

Everything about it felt narrow. It was irrational.

All four of us could comfortably walk side by side, but I wanted to clench my shoulders to squeeze through these halls, scared of getting stuck.

“Didn’t you say this was a particularly green campus?” I wasn’t sure if he’d said that, but I doubted he’d admit it if this place was a concrete wasteland.

“I was just getting to that,” Rodney chuckled and winked.

“Yeah, can we get to that now?” The air was disgustingly thick in here.

“Esra!” Mom scolded me under her breath. Easy for her to do. She didn’t look like she was about to melt into a puddle. Maybe Tennessee’s superior air conditioning had absolutely spoiled me.

“Of course,” Rodney replied, completely ignoring my mother, “there’s a beautiful green space right behind the building. The students love sitting outside for lunch or to study in the warmer months.”

“Stop waving that thing around like a madwoman,” Dad hissed at me after Rodney Junior had already set off toward the elevator.

“Aren’t you hot?” I asked, brows raised at the thick suit he was wearing.

He’d dressed up more than me. I’d already compromised on a plain white T-shirt after Mom had refused to let me leave the house in the one that said “medical professional” on the front and “ask me about my mouth-to-mouth skills” on the back.

“You’ll cool down outside,” Dad said with the kind of authority that didn’t leave room for protest. Okay then. I’d cool down outside.

Except the green space I had been promised was a glorified strip of grass between a bunch of concrete blocks and a busy street.

Cars were honking, somewhere music was playing from a window, and the little bit of lawn there was, was covered by people.

They sat a foot or two away from each other at most.

This was not the kind of place you went to get fresh air.

This was the kind of place that you searched for Waldo.

“I think that’s a very nice offer, thank you, RJ,” Mom said and patted Rodney Junior on the arm.

“Hmm?” I raised my brows because three pairs of eyes were trained on me.

“Then it’s a date. Maureen is said to be the next Meryl Streep,” Junior said, still smiling at me.

“Isn’t Meryl Streep still the current Meryl Streep?” I asked, confused.

“Maureen is on the Yale theater program. In the play RJ just invited you to,” Dad pressed the explanation through gritted teeth.

“A play? What about?” I gasped. Why was the air conditioning not working? My lungs felt like they were being wired shut from heat. Oh, right. We were outside.

“It’s a deep look into the human psyche as told through the points of view of consumerist goods.”

“Huh.” I nodded, fanning myself faster. “Any kidnappings? Bank robberies? Something fun?”

Rodney Junior laughed as if I’d just made the best joke he’d ever heard. I hadn’t been joking. Why would I watch a play that wasn’t at least a little bit exciting? I just wanted a good villain in it.

Something was wrong.

Not only with Rodney Junior, on a very deep psychological level, but with me .

No matter how much I fanned, I couldn’t cool down. I felt the wind against my clammy skin, too, and saw the rustling leaves on the strategically placed five trees. There was air. It just didn’t get to me.

Was this a panic attack?

I needed to get out of here. This was wrong.

Everything about this place was wrong. This wasn’t a green space.

I’d seen green spaces. First of all, they required space, not a patch of grass between buildings.

Fields of nature and birds and insects. You were supposed to be able to ride through them on the back of a golden horse named Crumble.

And I missed the sky. Ever since coming back to the city, I just wanted to get a car and drive out of the concrete jungle, find somewhere where the sky took up most of my field of vision. I missed the blues of the day and the burning reds and oranges of the sunset.

I tilted my head back to check the sky above New Haven, only to be greeted with a murky soup of low-hanging gray. Of course.

I missed looking at the sky from Noah’s bed. I missed Noah’s bed. I missed—

My chest constricted.

“This is wrong,” I croaked, pressing my palm against my flushed face.

“I’m sorry, what is?” Junior asked.

“This. This place. This school. That play. This T-shirt. You. You’re so wrong for me.”

“Excuse me?” For the first time all day, Junior’s mask slipped. His perfect polish vanished and gave way to a shocked, gaping carp’s mouth.

“I’m sorry, RJ,” Dad cleared his throat and forced a painful-looking smile. “Esra is clearly a little overwhelmed by all this today.”

“Esra, honey, do you want to sit down for a moment? Let’s have a little chat.” Mom stepped toward me, and I stepped back.

“I don’t want to have a chat.”

“Esra,” Dad warned.

“I need to go. I can’t do this. I’m not meant to be here.” I backed away from all three of them. Thank god there was a busy street right next to this oh-so-green campus. I had hailed a taxi before my dad had finished yelling at me to “come back here”.

“Where to, miss?” the cabbie asked.

I glanced out the window to where my mother was throwing up her hands and shaking her head, while Dad talked at Rodney Junior, inches from his face. Neither of them was even trying to come after me. “Nearest airport to get a flight to Nashville.”

“That would be Hartford.”

“Hartford it is. And could you crank up the AC? I feel like I’m about to go up in flames. Thank you so much.”

It was about an hour to the airport, plus check-in and security times, which meant the only flight to Nashville I’d catch was the last one of the day.

Damn. There were a few shuttle buses that ran from Nashville to Wild Fields, Bravetown in particular, but none that late.

And with the stupid sling, I couldn’t rent a car.

I had a few hours to come up with a way to apologize to Noah. But in the meantime, I’d have to start somewhere.

I called Adriana and got sent to voicemail within two rings .

I called her again and got the voicemail on the first ring.

For someone who had made many enemies by ditching town, she was good at holding a grudge over me for the same thing.

So I sent her a text instead.

Esra: Think I might be pregnant.

My phone immediately started ringing. Gotcha. I picked up with an innocent “Hello?”

“Tell me you’re lying right now. I told you not to get knocked up by a country boy,” Adriana shrieked into the phone.

“Yeah, I was lying. I just needed you to pick up the phone.”

“Lies aren’t a great start if you’re calling to make amends,” she said.

“What if I win your love back with a drink tonight? You’ll just have to drive my car to Nashville,” I offered, mirroring the same tactic she’d used all summer to weasel her way into everyone’s heart.

“I’m listening.”