My Boyfriend Rejected Harvard Offer, I Rejected Him

"Stop it already. I will only ever love Naomi, for the rest of my life."

Felix's eyes were rimmed red. He was hunched over his open laptop at the foot of the mattress like he was guarding it with his body.

The basement was a shrine to his idea of freedom.

A thrift-store mattress on the concrete floor. It smelled like weed, damp laundry, and the takeout from two days ago congealing on the floor.

He'd signed the lease a week ago, the minute he and his mother stopped speaking

In my previous life, he was in the middle of drafting an email to decline Harvard's offer when I found him.

I'd yanked the laptop out from under him and sent the acceptance in his place — to the seat my father's money had bought him.

He'd gone on to become the richest man in the country. Then he'd died young. And he'd left me an estate worth billions.

In my dreams, he'd stared at me with bloodshot eyes and cursed me.

He'd said I'd ruined his entire life. That I'd cost him the only person he'd ever loved.

Captions drifted across my vision.

[Here comes the side character rewriting fate again.]

[Poor male lead — about to get press-ganged into Harvard and condemned to a fortune.]

[Let him go. Can we please just let him have his Aussie gap year?]

I took a long breath. "Fine."

Felix froze.

Whatever big defiant speech he'd rehearsed died in his throat.

His face went dark red.

"Y—you — what did you just say?"

"I said fine."

I pulled a folding camp chair out from against the wall and sat down, smoothing my skirt over my knees.

"Send the email. You're right. Real love is more important than an Ivy League degree. I support you."

Felix squinted at me.

He genuinely thought I was some scheming monster.

"What are you playing at now?"

He laughed, thinly, mouth pulling into a sneer.

"Don't think I'll soften if you pretend to back down."

"I'm telling you — even if you drop dead on that mattress, I'm still getting on that plane with Naomi!"

I looked at his valiant, ready-to-die-for-love face.

It was honestly kind of funny.

"Then hurry up and hit send. Your mom's going to kick the door down in ten minutes and you know it."

Felix gritted his teeth. His hand was shaking when he clicked the button.

A confirmation popped up: Your response has been received.

He exhaled like he'd just gotten a boulder off his back. His whole body went slack.

"See? That's my conviction."

He stood and looked down at me with the arrogance of a man who'd just won something.

"From now on, stop embarrassing yourself chasing me around."

"You can't give me the kind of love I want. All you can do is weigh me down with society's expectations."

I looked at him — earnest, deluded, convinced he was a romantic hero.

"Okay. Wishing you both all the best. Long happy life."

I stood up — and right on cue, Felix's mother Mrs. Davenport stormed in.

"Felix! What did you just send?!"

Mrs. Davenport shoved me aside and stumbled to the laptop.

When she saw the outgoing email in his sent folder, the color dropped out of her face. She nearly fainted on the spot.

"This is a disaster. You absolute idiot!"

She whipped around and stabbed a finger at my face.

"Are you deaf?! I told you to keep him in line! Why didn't you stop him?!"

I stepped back out of range.

"Mrs. Davenport. Felix says love is priceless. I was afraid that if I stopped him, he'd hate me for the rest of his life."

Mrs. Davenport was shaking with fury.

"He doesn't know the first thing about love! Are you standing there watching him self-destruct on purpose?!"

"I knew you were up to something! You've been jealous of him since you were kids — jealous he's smarter than you — and now you've finally gotten what you wanted!"

I almost laughed out loud.

"Smarter than me?"

"He got a 1020 on his SATs, Mrs. Davenport. I got a 1580."

"The only reason he even had a Harvard offer to throw away tonight was because my father put his name on a library there last year."

"So let's be clear about which of us dragged which one into that school."

"Mrs. Davenport. You've got a very generous definition of 'smart.'"

The captions flared up again.

[LOL — she's got a mouth on her.]

[Mrs. Davenport is something else. Blaming other people because her son's a loser.]

[And he's still standing there pretending he's Mr. Devoted. Unreal.]

Felix pulled his mother behind him and squared up in front of her, shielding her like I was about to throw a punch.

"Shut up. Don't talk to my mother like that!"

"You're just jealous that Naomi has my heart."

He looked at me with absolute certainty, convinced he'd seen straight through to my soul.

"Your heart is bleeding right now, isn't it?"

"You picked a fight with my mom on purpose to get my attention."

"Drop the act. I saw through you a long time ago."

I sighed.

How did this man's brain work?

"Yes. Yes. I'm dying of pain. Take your devoted heart and go find Naomi."

I paused, then added helpfully:

"Better hurry. I hear the working holiday visa quota fills up fast."

Mrs. Davenport was still wailing.

"I don't care — go email them back! Tell them it was a mistake! My Felix is Ivy League material!"

I couldn't be bothered with her anymore. I climbed the basement stairs and pushed out into the alley.

The summer sun hit me like a slap after the mildew and the dark.

This time around, I was done waiting on these people.

Behind me, from down in the basement, Felix's frantic voice:

"Go ahead, walk away! Don't come crawling back later!"