“Oh, you think I’m not good enough to go to college?” After all we’d been through, sarcastic Sawyer was back.

I did assume he wasn’t going to college, honestly, but I didn’t have to admit it. “No, why?”

“Because if you’d thought I was going to college, you would have asked ‘Where are you going to college?’ instead of ‘What are you doing after graduation?’ ”

“Okay. Where are you going to college?”

“You’re nuts. I’m not good enough for college.”

I grabbed my empty Crab Lab cup from the table and held it over him. “I’m going to hit you with this.”

“I’m going to culinary school,” he said quickly.

“You are?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“New York.”

“Have you gotten in?” I asked.

“I haven’t applied. I’m waiting to make sure you get in to Columbia.”

“Are you sure you want to do that?” I’d been worried about this. The idea that he would simply move to New York too lifted a weight from my shoulders. But it couldn’t be that simple. “What if we break up? You’d be stuck there.”

“I’m never stuck anywhere,” he assured me. “If I get into trouble, I haul myself back out. But I wouldn’t want you to feel obligated to stay with me if you met somebody smarter at Columbia. You’ll meet guys in college who’ve been to Paris. Hell, guys who are from Paris. I’m just your high school boyfriend from back home. I don’t want to be an albatross around your neck.”

“Pelican.”

“Right. If it makes you feel better, I’ve been incredibly jealous of you ever since I heard you wanted to go to college in New York. I’ve got to get out of here, and there’s nowhere I’d rather go. New York is one of the world’s best food cities.”

He glanced sideways at me, seeming almost nervous. “If this seems stalkerish to you, I won’t do it. I mean, New York is huge and we would never have to see each other. I started thinking about going because of you, but we don’t have to date after high school. I don’t want you to feel trapped.” His words came out faster and faster. He was definitely nervous. Sawyer De Luca was nervous. “Oh God, what have I done? Say something.”

I laughed, trying to put him at ease. “You just surprise me. Are you going to open your own restaurant?”

“I guess I’ll have to, since I don’t like people telling me what to do. This is when it’s going to come in handy to have a finance major for a girlfriend. So I was wrong before. We can’t break up.”

“I don’t know anymore about majoring in finance,” I said slowly. “I’m rethinking everything.” I squinted at him in the darkness. “This really surprises me. You’ve never talked about culinary school before.” Maybe I just hadn’t been listening, I thought guiltily.

“I can’t afford it right now. I’ll get a job in a high-end restaurant and learn all I can. When I’ve lived in New York long enough to qualify for in-state tuition, I’ll find a community college where I can get a business degree. Eventually I’ll open my own restaurant.”

“Vegan?” I guessed.

“Yes. That can’t work just anywhere, but New York has enough weirdos like me to support it.”

“That sounds like a good plan.”

“At least it’s a plan. I don’t know if it’s good. Luckily, one thing that separates me from other people is that I don’t need my life planned out and structured. If this doesn’t work, I’ll do something else.”

“I would believe that, except you sound so defensive.”

He watched me, careful not to reveal anything he didn’t want me to see. His face was devoid of expression, this time not out of anger, but from fear.

“Sawyer,” I whispered. “It’s okay to be scared.” I kissed his cheek.

“You scare me.”

“You scare the hell out of me, but it’s a pleasant kind of scary, right?”

“So far, so good.”

I smiled. “I don’t want to be the one to make you question your culinary school plan. I don’t know anything about that stuff. I just wonder if you’re selling yourself short. Right now, though, you’re not feeling good about yourself. You wouldn’t believe anybody who told you that you’re better than what you’re aiming for. Not even me. You may need a year to figure that out for yourself.”

He shrugged, looking away, but I could tell he was listening.

“I agree you need to get out of here. You’ve been through too much with your family. If you could start over someplace else, I’ll bet you would be a completely different person. And I’d really like to meet that guy.”

He grinned, looking perplexed. “Thanks, I think.”

“How are your grades?” I asked.

“They’re good,” he said. “I’m no valedictorian, but I have a three-point-seven right now, and I’m trying to bring it up.”

“My God, Sawyer.”

“What?” he asked.

I didn’t want to say what I was thinking, which was Holy shit, that is a high GPA, and all this time I thought you were a slacker. I skipped over that part and asked, “How are your entrance exam scores?”

“High.”