I don't know how I manage not to squeal as I leap off my chair and hug Aidan.
Finally. Finally. Finally.
"I can't breathe, Serena," he gasps, and I let go.
"Sorry," I say, but can't manage to tone down the ear-to-ear grin on my face. Everyone in the cafeteria is staring at us. Not that I care. "I just can't believe someone actually offered me a job."
"I told you they would," he shrugs, still reading the email. "It says here you can call them anytime if you want to discuss any details, and—"
"I'll read about that later," I brush him off.
He frowns, his dark eyes full of confusion. "You dragged me out of class so I could read you the first line?"
"Yep," I say, slumping back in my chair.
He laughs. "You are weird."
"I'll take that as a compliment," I say.
He blushes, looking away. "I'm glad you got over your food poisoning so quickly."
My heart skips a beat, because I'm still not sure if he completely bought into the story I made up to explain my absence. I have come to classes when I had a severe case of flu. The normal me would have never missed classes because of food poisoning. But I know that sarcasm isn't among Aidan's skills, so he can only mean what he says.
"Yeah, it wasn't so bad."
He checks his watch. "Let's go back."
"Are you kidding? I am so taking the day off."
I could take the week off, really. After the past few days, I'd like nothing better than disappearing somewhere, anywhere. But I'm so beyond broke that a spontaneous trip anywhere is completely out of the question.
"Well, I am going back. Someone has to take notes."
"There are twenty other people in that class."
"Have you ever seen anyone except us take notes in Mr. Graham's class? Crap—" he exclaims, catching the soda he accidentally knocked with his elbow just before its contents spill on his black-and-white checkered shirt.
"Fair point," I say, grabbing the soda away from him.
He stands and pats my back awkwardly. "Congrats, Serena."
"Thanks."
"You should take your time to think about it, don't rush to accept it," he says on his way to the door.
"Because I have so many other offers," I say sarcastically.
"You'll get more, I'm sure." He flushes again and adds just before he bolts out of the cafeteria, "You're very smart."
I slide farther down the chair, stretching my legs and resting my head on the backrest. No more flipping-McDonald's-burgers images to torment me from now on. I play with my phone in my hands, trying to decide who to call first. Mum will be beside herself, insisting that she always knew I'd get the job. Jess will be devastated that I got the news so early, because we won't be able to celebrate the way she originally planned, with a night of clubbing and my first real hangover ever—what with her injured leg and everything. But I'm secretly glad for the excuse to celebrate my way. I have a fancy box of chocolate truffles from Switzerland that I have never opened because I couldn't find a good enough occasion. I can't imagine a better occasion than this one. I glance in the direction of the cafeteria counter. How tempting it is to start celebrating now with obscene amounts of chocolate ice cream. The cafeteria's food is nothing to brag about, but their ice cream is top notch.
The waitress throws me a sympathetic look from behind the counter, and I get myself two scoops of ice cream, hoping Aidan won't return any time soon. I'm pretty sure ice cream is not exactly recommended in the aftermath of food poisoning. As I take a mouthful, I think of who else I should share my news with. First, I decide to read the email again before I break the news to anyone. Just to make sure it's really there. I open my mailbox and devour the lines that tell me the last years of slogging through heaps of books and papers are finally paying off. I send Jess a text informing her of my news.
I know who else I'd like to share my news with. Someone who made me think that believing in myself might not be such a heresy. James. But I can't do it. Not after that night. If the last couple of days taught me something, it's that it would be better for me if I forget he exists altogether. No, not better. It's something I have to do. It’s the only thing I can do if I hope the tightness in my chest will vanish someday. I suddenly wish that my job offer wasn't in San Francisco, but some place more distant. The moon, if possible.
There is someone else I'd like to share the news with, but I can't. Kate. I laugh, taking another mouthful of ice cream, as I imagine what her reaction would be. She'd ruffle my hair, saying she's happy and sad for me at the same time. Happy that I got the job I wanted and sad because it's such a boring one. Then maybe we'd watch a movie together. Who am I kidding? The Kate that watched movies with me for hours at a time was gone long before she died. That Kate only existed in my hopes. If she were alive now… I wouldn't be able to guess what her reaction to my news would be. I wouldn't know if I could find her in the first place, so I could share my news with her. Part of me always feared she'd leave the house one day, and I would never find her again. Perhaps it would've been better that way. At least I could pretend she's still alive.
It's her birthday tomorrow. Which makes me dread the fact that tomorrow is Saturday. If it were a weekday, I could find a thousand ways to keep busy. But I need to find ways to keep busy over the weekend, too. I have volleyball tomorrow and a ton of assignments for next week; maybe that'll do. If not, I can count on Jess to keep me from getting too depressed. She might not have been too successful the past few days, but she's done brilliantly in finding ways to cheer me up every year on Kate's birthday.