"Fuck them. What did they ever do for you? You think the world is going to do you some favor because you were a good girl who didn’t fuck her brother?"
Tessa’s voice was too loud. An old lady three tables over glanced at us. Tessa shot her a sarcastic smile. "Sorry, I’ll try to keep it down, grandma."
"Jesus, Tessa."
"I’m just telling you how it is. He’s not your brother. His mom fucks your dad and he lived in your house for a while. Some people won’t like it, but there’s always something people aren’t going to like about you."
"I just... I don’t know. I mean he was on the cover of a fucking magazine by the cash register! He’s a billionaire now, he doesn't have a shortage of girls to pick from. And even if he had the same feelings that I think I do for him, how could he act on them? He’s under a spotlight now. People will find out."
"Whoa, stop the fucking cart. You’re getting way ahead of yourself. Keep it simple for now. Go to Boston. Go and see him. Tell him, jump on him, whatever. Depending on what happens up there, we can sort out all that other stuff afterward."
"Do you really think I can do it?"
"No. I don’t think you have the balls to do it, personally. Which is a shame because I think this thing is a lot more serious than you’re telling me or maybe than your even telling yourself."
"All right. Thanks for the advice. No, I mean it. But can we just talk about something else now?" I said. "I don’t want to drive myself crazy when I have an eight hour drive on my own to look forward to."
Thankfully, Tessa let me drop it, and after a little banal girl talk and a really big hug, I drove her home and got on the thruway, headed towards my apartment in Manhattan.
Chapter Seven
I spent the next two weeks distracting myself until classes started again and I could lose myself in my studies. I cleaned the apartment in places light hadn’t touched for months. I scrubbed pots and pans until they looked new. I emptied the refrigerator and cleaned out the freezer. I polished floors and wiped down the walls. When my roommate, Nicole, got back the day before classes, she was delighted with the apartment but seemed disturbed when I told her I had done the cleaning all on my own.
"But why?"
"To distract myself," I admitted. She gave me a curious look, but didn’t probe any further.
Finally, the morning came when classes started again and it was time to get back on campus. I felt I had done as much as I could to wash my Christmas break from memory and was feeling upbeat about what the second half of my freshman year had to offer.
I had a nine-o’clock lecture in Tisch Hall. I was up at seven to shower, do my makeup and hair and pick out the right outfit—a dark pair of tough-weave denim jeans that fit my thighs and butt snugly and a camel sweater with a soft plunging neckline. I wore a pair of white boots with a matching white peacoat, knitted cap and scarf over it for my wintry walk to class. After I ran out of things to clean, I had allowed myself to give in and go shopping to kill the time.
I was still waiting for dad to see the statement...
Dressed, feeling fresh and looking forward to another semester in my new life, I left and started my brisk walk toward Tisch Hall. It was still dark outside, the sun low and hidden under a steel-gray sky of clouds. Half way there I decided it was too cold to make it in one shot, not with the wind cutting around the buildings, and turned into the yellow warmth of a coffee shop to get something warm.
I ordered my usual ci
nnamon latte, and while I waited in line to pay, I dug through my purse to find my punch card. I was pretty sure I was due a free one after this.
"That’ll be four-twenty-one," the cashier said.
"One second, I have a card to stamp," I said, rushing now to find it in the mess of my purse. There was already a line and everyone was tired and grumpy with lack of sleep behind me. I found myself wishing I had spent some of my break organizing my purse instead of the apartment, but finally I spied the corner of the white card and pulled it out.
Only it wasn’t my coffee card.
TO ALLIE
FROM JAMES
Merry Christmas!
IOU one present
I stared at it just long enough to register what it was, then crammed it back into my purse along with the thoughts of James that it immediately summoned.
I handed the girl a credit card instead.
"Can’t find it?" the girl asked as she swiped my card.