Riley

Headland. Noun. [hed-land]. An area of high elevation more resistant to erosion than surrounding areas and less susceptible to flooding.

I wipe my hands on my black slacks as the admissions counselor speaks, his round glasses perched on the end of his very long witch-like nose. Almost done. Almost done.

"Miss Olson, I believe that between the generosity of your parents," he nods at Mom and Dad, seated behind me with ridiculously wide smiles plastered on their faces. "And your own renewed interest in your education, you are a good candidate for readmittance at Cornell."

Dad even pulled out his Army dress blues for the occasion. "After the stunts you've pulled, we need every vote of sympathy we can get, Riley," Mom told me, referencing Dad's brief bout in Afghanistan. Yes, my family is using my dad's status as an active duty Army colonel to help get me back into college. They know no bounds. At Mr. Ellis's words, Dad's back straightens and he bows his head at the man.

"You have our deepest gratitude, Roger," Dad says. Apparently, when he and Mom went to Cornell back in the olden days, Roger was in the year below them and he acts like my dad is the cat's pajamas, to quote the vernacular.

"Of course," Roger Ellis says, "I'm sure Riley will be a great addition to our school psychology program."

"School psychology," Dad murmurs under his voice, shaking his head as if I'm the biggest disgrace the Olson name has ever seen. Sometimes I really, really wish I had a sibling to take some of the pressure. Of course, with my luck, my fantasy brother or sister would get straight As and go into business and the Army, leaving me as the prodigal child. Maybe I'm better off as is. At least I only have to compete with myself.

"Miss Olson, I understand you've spoken with Dr. Mariani, who will serve as your advisor when you re-enroll in the fall?"

I nod and force myself to speak. "Yeah, I've talked with her a few times. She said that I should be able to finish my degree in a year and a half."

I was so relieved when she told me that. I'm okay with getting the degree I need to go into school psychology, but the prospect of four more years of college made my insides twist into a knot. Luckily, using my previous credits and my semester of study abroad, Dr. Mariani figured out a way for me to finish in only a year and a half. Thank goodness.

"You're very lucky to have reached such an arrangement," Ellis said, tapping his Cornell-emblazoned pen on the mahogany desk. "Especially after dropping out. But I'm sure you'll bring pride to the Olson name."

I puke a little in my mouth as I see Mom and Dad exchange a knowing, amorous look between them. I'm all too aware of their history as Cornell's Cutest Couple of the 90s and Dad's start position on the offensive line of the football team. I'm one hundred percent certain I won't live up to their reputation, and I'm totally fine with that.

"You have, of course, lost your scholarship because of your change in status," Ellis continues. "But I'm sure with your father's eminent career, the tuition will be no problem."

"Oh, she'll have to work!" Dad interrupts in a gruff voice. "We Olsons got to where we are through hard work, and she'll have to learn that lesson. We've been too easy on her over the years."

I think about the eighteen times we moved--soon to be nineteen--and the summer I spent sweating in a pizza shop and sleeping on a bunkbed. Yeah, my life's been real easy. But then an image of Ross comes to my mind unbidden and something pulls inside of me--his dimples, his smile, his voice. I have had it easy compared to Ross. If I have to work in the Cornell dishroom to pay for a year and a half's worth of tuition, I'll do it.

"That's fine. I'll get a job," I say though my nose wrinkles as I imagine scrubbing a toilet in the guys' dorm or picking wet napkins out of cups.

"Well, there are a few work study positions in the counseling office," Roger Ellis says, and my ears perk up. "They're, of course, very competitive and only available for the top students, but maybe..." His voice trails off doubtfully and I almost roll my eyes.

I'll get straight A's for the rest of my life if that means no dishroom duty, and I nod my head up and down with my most innocent smile. "Thank you, Mr. Ellis."

Mom stands up suddenly, straightening the blush pink sheath dress she wore for the occasion. One would think she was the one having the interview. She takes Mr. Ellis's hand and presses it, giving him a warm smile that brings a blush to his face, literally. I didn't get my dad's smarts and reputation or my mom's beauty and charm. Bummer.

"Roger, thank you so much again for making time for our dear little Riley. It's a comfort to know there are still those who value strong family values and patriotism."

Roger looks a little uncomfortable but just nods, smiles, and blushes. "Of course. It's been a pleasure."

Dad gives Roger a salute and he eats that up like he just met the president. Way to play up the whole Army thing, Dad. "Much thanks, Roger."

I rise to my feet, my knees wavering a little, and I curse my weakness. You're in, Ry. Pull it together. But instead, my stomach twists as I remember Ross's voice, rusty from a long day of working on the beach, calling me "Ry." He used to call me Ry. I squeeze my eyes shut--no. I can't think about Ross right now. I can't have a freaking meltdown in the admission counselor's office.

"Riley?" Mom asks, touching the small of my back with her manicured fingers. "Let's go, honey."

She pushes me out the door and I force my legs to obey, shaking my head to get rid of the trance. Don't think about Ross. As if it's somehow possible for my brain to not think about him every moment of the day. Pull it together.

Before I know it, my family unit has made it outside to Dad's SUV, oversized for just him and Mom and still too large with me strapped in the back seat. "What do you say to a celebratory dinner?" Dad says."Steak?"

Of course, Mom and Dad don't care that I would much rather go to Wendy's and have a ten-packet of chicken nuggets with fries and a Frosty. Mom would just sniff and mutter regretfully about how I didn't inherit their superior tastes. I'm not up for a battle, so steak it is. Dad drives to some steakhouse while Mom tries to get him to use the GPS and he protests, saying that he knows where he's going. He doesn't, and we get there 45 minutes later, but the long car ride and the squabbling in the front seat give me time to freak out in the back seat.

I'm going back to Cornell.

I'm going to finish my degree. I'm going to become a school psychologist. I'm going to settle down and be happy. Life will be perfect. Except Ross.

Every thought process ends with that morbid realization. Ross will go abroad and travel the world like he's always wanted and I'll finally find my purpose in life and settle down. Our two paths diverged on a beach in New Jersey. It's over.

But here's the thing--I want it all. I want Cornell and a degree and a white picket fence home. But I also want Ross and his thirst for adventure and the way his lips taste of salty ocean spray. I want him just as much as I want Cornell, and I've spent too much of my time wondering what it is I really want. Now I know, and I can't lose him. I can't forget him. I can't let go of the one thing I know I want.

A shaky sigh escapes my lips as Dad pulls into a parking spot, tense silence filling the SUV. "Let's go," he barks in his Army voice, and we file out of the car in good order.

The dinner is filled with stunted silence and the sound of my dad belching after every single bite of steak like he just can't resist it. I'm glad that no one feels the need to fill the silence with familial conversation because honestly, I can't pretend to be happy right now.

I mean, I am happy. I'm excited about a new career and maybe even a job at the counseling center. That's all well and good, but Ross--it's still raw. It's like a wound that's only been covered with a bandage. It still aches and leaks and demands attention. He hasn't texted me once since I left, and I would be mad, but I think I understand. As much as I want to call him and hear his voice through the phone, I can't bear the pain. I've pulled his name up a thousand times and considered calling, but I couldn't. I couldn't bear it. I couldn't handle hearing his voice and not being able to kiss him or touch him or whisper nonsense in his ear.

And now what happens? He'll leave in just a few weeks, and I start school in a week and a half. I have no reason to go back to the island and he has no reason to come to Cornell. We might never see each other again, and it's not freaking fair. Both Ross and I have just got everything we ever wanted--he gets to travel, I get a purpose. We have everything we ever wanted, but now, something is missing. He's missing.

I've never told anyone I loved them besides my parents, and even then, only when I was a kid. But the words I love you are bitter on my tongue. I know it's crazy, we've only known each other a few months, we're young and stupid, but there's something in my heart--a weight, a heaviness I can't dispel--that says this feeling isn't tampered by youth or inexperience. Whatever is between Ross and I is undeniably real and I'm just going to walk away, let him fade into the rearview mirror, let life steal him from me. Just like I've always let life take everything from me while I sit back and watch it.

Not this time.

I'm done.

I've let life pass me by, cart me around like a freaking passenger, and I'm done. I'm in charge of my life, and I still have a week and a half left before I have to start at Cornell, and I have a car.

I'm going to see Ross.

I stand up from the table and my chair slides back with a squeak. "I'm leaving," I declare, and Mom's face pales and turns red at the same time.

"What are you talking about?" Dad thunders, throwing down his bloodied cloth napkin. "Riley, we put too much into this visit for you to throw it away on a whim!"

Crap. "Oh, no, Dad, I'm coming back when school starts." Dorm life, what a thing to look forward to. "But I'm going back to the island. Just for a few days. I'll be back in plenty of time, and it'll be fine. But I need to go back."

Mom touches my arm, her hand icy. "Riley, just calm down. I know you got rather...attached to your friends there, but you can't just run off. You need to prepare for your semester!"

"I'm an adult," I say, resolution growing with every word. There's time, and Ross deserves more than a half-hearted goodbye. He deserves everything. "I have a care, and I'm going to the island. I swear I'll be back in time, and I'm not wasting this opportunity."

I skedaddle out the door before they can stop me, pulling my phone out to call for an Uber. I consider calling Ross, a smile growing on my face. I'm going to see him again. But no--it's going to be a surprise. I'm going to see him in person, I'm going to tell him how I feel, and I'm going to try to make things work. Somehow.

Two hours later, I'm in my car with a duffle bag packed and Taylor Swift cranked as loud as it goes, and I'm on my way to Long Beach Island.

I'm going to see Ross. I'm going to tell him how I feel, and I swear, if we don't work out, it won't be because I didn't give him everything. 

~~~~~

Hey guys! Sorry for the delay in posting a new chapter, but I hope this one is worth it! :) I enjoyed writing this chapter. Hopefully learning more about her parents explains why she is the way she is! I enjoyed writing good old Mr. and Mrs. Olson. 

What do you think will happen when Riley and Ross see each other again? Let me know in the comments!