Chapter 279 Chapter 279

Chapter 279 Chapter 279
Jessa

By the time I realized how long I’d been staring at my laptop, the sun had already dropped low enough that the light in my room had turned that weird golden color that meant the day was almost gone.

Again.

Another afternoon.

Another few hours spent digging through college websites, financial aid pages, and scholarship listings that all seemed to say the same thing.

Not enough.

I leaned back against my bed, rubbing my eyes.

“This is impossible,” I muttered.

My laptop was balanced on my knees, the same five tabs open that had been open for days now.

Tuition calculators.

Scholarship databases.

Financial aid forums.

Every once in a while I’d find something promising.

Then there would be some requirement I didn’t meet.

Top academic award.

Perfect GPA.

Leadership positions.

Athletic scholarships.

Things that belonged to people who had spent high school thriving.

Not surviving.

My bedroom door suddenly swung open.

“Jess, seriously.”

Jackson stood in the doorway, looking like he’d just reached the end of his patience.

“You’re driving me insane.”

I blinked at him.

“Good evening to you too.”

He walked in and pointed directly at the laptop.

“That thing has been glued to you for like a week.”

“I’m researching.”

“You’re obsessing.”

“Same thing.”

“No it’s not,” he said, dropping onto the chair near my desk. “Research ends eventually. This looks like a full-time job.”

I sighed and closed my eyes for a second.

“I’m trying to figure something out.”

Jackson leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“You’ve been trying to ‘figure something out’ for days.”

“College is kind of a big deal.”

“I know that,” he said. “But this whole situation is turning you into a stress monster.”

I gave him a look.

“Stress monster?”

“Yeah.”

“Creative.”

“You’ve barely slept.”

“That’s not true.”

“You fell asleep on the couch last night with the laptop still open.”

“That was a power nap.”

Jackson snorted.

“You drooled.”

I grabbed a pillow and tossed it at him.

“Get out.”

He caught it and tossed it back.

“Jess, I’m serious.”

I sighed again.

“I know.”

He studied me for a second.

“You’re scaring yourself with this stuff.”

“I’m trying to find a way to make it work.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

The question landed heavier than he probably meant it to.

I looked back down at the laptop screen.

“Then I guess it doesn’t.”

Jackson didn’t say anything for a moment.

Then he leaned back in the chair.

“You know you’re allowed to breathe, right?”

“Breathing isn’t solving the problem.”

Before he could answer, we both heard the front door open.

Our mom’s voice floated down the hallway.

“Kids?”

“In here!” Jackson called.

A moment later Mom appeared in the doorway, still in her hospital scrubs, her coat draped over one arm.

She looked tired.

The kind of tired that came from long shifts and too many responsibilities.

Her eyes moved between us.

“Why do you two look like you’re about to start World War Three?”

“We’re not fighting,” Jackson said quickly.

Mom raised an eyebrow.

“You say that, but the energy in this room says otherwise.”

“Nothing’s happening,” he insisted.

Mom didn’t look convinced.

Then her eyes drifted to me.

Specifically…

To the laptop.

She tilted her head slightly.

“Sweetie,” she said gently, “that laptop has practically become part of your anatomy lately.”

I gave a weak smile.

“I’ve been doing college research.”

“I can see that.”

She stepped inside and set her bag down.

Jackson stood up.

“I’m going to go pretend to do homework.”

“Good idea,” Mom said.

He paused beside the door and gave me a look.

Not an annoyed look.

A worried one.

Then he disappeared down the hallway.

Mom pulled the desk chair over and sat down beside my bed.

She didn’t say anything right away.

She just looked at the screen.

Scholarships.

Tuition numbers.

Financial aid charts.

Finally she exhaled softly.

“Is this about the Oregon school?”

My stomach tightened.

“Yeah.”

She nodded slowly.

“I thought so.”

I swallowed.

“I’m trying to see if there’s a way to make it work.”

She rested her hands in her lap.

“Jess…”

Her voice already had that tone.

The one parents use when they’re about to say something you don’t want to hear.

I stared at the keyboard.

“We can’t afford it, can we?”

Mom didn’t answer right away.

Which was answer enough.

My throat tightened.

“It’s just…” I started, then stopped.

Because suddenly I didn’t know how to explain the feeling that had been building inside me for years.

Mom leaned forward slightly.

“You can tell me.”

I stared at the laptop screen.

“I just really wanted something different.”

“Different how?”

“A place where nobody already decided who I am.”

The words came out quieter than I expected.

Mom didn’t interrupt.

“I’m tired of Ridgeville,” I admitted.

“I know.”

“Everyone looks at me and they’ve already made up their minds.”

“Jess—”

“I know it’s not everyone,” I said quickly. “But it’s enough.”

I rubbed my hands together nervously.

“It doesn’t matter what I do here. I’m always the girl who doesn’t fit.”

Mom’s expression softened.

“You do fit.”

“Not by Ridgeville standards.”

She didn’t argue that.

And that somehow made the room feel even heavier.

“I thought if I went somewhere far away…” I continued quietly, “maybe I could just start over.”

Mom reached out and rested her hand over mine.

“Honey… leaving the state isn’t the only way to do that.”

I looked at her.

“It feels like it is.”

She shook her head gently.

“You can get out of Ridgeville without going across the country.”

“How?”

“There are plenty of good colleges within driving distance.”

“That’s still the same area.”

“It’s still a fresh start,” she said. “Different town. Different people. Different environment.”

“But it’s not the same.”

“I know,” she said softly.

Silence settled between us.

Then she sighed.

“I wish I could give you everything you want.”

My chest tightened.

“I know.”

“And if money wasn’t an issue…” she continued, “I would help you go anywhere you wanted.”

I blinked quickly, trying to keep my eyes from stinging.

“But sending two kids to college at the same time…” she said, her voice cracking slightly. “Jess, I’m barely keeping things balanced as it is.”

“I know,” I whispered.

She squeezed my hand.

“You deserve big dreams.”

I stared at the laptop screen again.

“But sometimes the path to those dreams takes a few steps.”

I swallowed hard.

“So you’re saying I should give up.”

“I’m saying you shouldn’t believe that leaving Ridgeville requires crossing the country.”

I leaned back against the wall.

“I just wanted to go somewhere nobody knew me.”

Mom smiled sadly.

“Sweetheart… most people in the world don’t know you.”

That actually made me laugh a little through the tension.

She squeezed my hand again.

“You’re going to find your place,” she said.

“Even if it’s not Oregon.”

I nodded slowly.

But the thought still sat in the back of my mind.

Because Oregon hadn’t just been a school.

It had been an escape.

And even though Mom was right…

Part of me still wondered what it would feel like to start over somewhere that far away.

Somewhere Ridgeville couldn’t reach.

Somewhere I could finally be seen…

Without the weight of everything this town had decided about me.