Story by Theodore Rothschild.
My lungs fill and my heart pounds in my chest. I’m exhausted, yet I want to race to the train. I’m going to print this at the office and leave it for Abby to read. I don’t want the email trail coming back to me, and it will take some convincing to get Theo to send it from his account. But when he sees what we’ve done—the girls of Hayden Hall—Triple B—I think he may be willing to let me put his name on it.
I did what he asked. I controlled the narrative. All I ask of him is that he also let me control the record, the author.
Chapter28
Theo
Turns out, I’m good at answering phones. It’s making the phone calls that I suck at.
I convinced our headmaster to let me get my internship hours in at the front office. It’s not necessarily in line with any career goals, but I like hanging out with April all day and I’m decent at giving campus tours. Granted, it’s only been one family so far, but they enrolled for next year. I’m pretty sure it was my tips on how to get the best side dishes in the cafeteria that sold the twelve-year-old prospective student on begging to attend Welles. Or maybe it was my quick trip through the fieldhouse during the girls’ volleyball practice.
Lily was quiet after her internship yesterday. I don’t think she wants to rub it in, but I’m over it. Yeah, I like that business. I think I’ll be great in a broadcast booth one day. But I’m not very good at answering to authority, or so I’ve learned. And I’m definitely not a favorite of advertisers, charm or no charm.
Coach let us out of practice early today so we could all go support the women’s swim team. It was James’ idea. I had to run a quick errand first, so I told him to save me a seat at the end of lane five. That’s Lily’s lane.
My phone buzzes as I walk into the fieldhouse, so I tuck the flowers I got for Lily under my arm and back through the doors as I read the message.
JAMES:You better hurry. This place is packed and Morgan is threatening to sell your seat.
ME:Just got here. Be there in a second.
I shove my phone in the back pocket of my jeans and spin around with a bit of a sprint. Not fully looking where I’m going, though, I smack right into a woman, knocking her purse from her shoulder and scattering whatever was inside in all directions.
“Sorry, I wasn’t even looking—”
“Theo! I’m glad to find you.”
I look up from the floor where I’m gathering up lipsticks and keys and a tin of mints, and am met with a familiar yet unwanted face.
“Abby. Nice to see you,” I choke out. My words are sour as they pass my tongue. Maybe I’m not quite over it.
“Don’t worry about that stuff. I’ll get it,” she says, holding her palms out for me to hand off what I’ve picked up. Despite my urge to simply drop everything back on the floor, I pass it to her.
“All right. Well, I’ll be off, then.” I can’t quite spit out a ‘nice to see you.’
“Wait!” She grips my arm and my eyes dart to her unwanted touch. She lets go, but she doesn’t seem to be backing off.
“I wanted to thank you for reconsidering. Your story, Theo. It’s . . .” Her palms open as she holds them out to her sides and shakes her head, mouth agape. “Wow,” she hums quietly.
“My . . . story.” My chest hurts. What is she talking about?
“Yes, and I understand that you didn’t want to overstep and assume anything, but Theo, you could have delivered it yourself. I can’t wait to show it to Michael. You and he didn’t meet on the best terms, but he really is a fan of great writing, and your story, Theo. So much honesty.”
I nod and do my best to inch up the corners of my mouth. My tongue is dry and I’m about a breath away from choking when I spot Lily pacing in the background, her earbuds in as she shakes out her arms.
“I’ll get back to you, Abby. I need a second,” I say, holding up a finger before abandoning my sudden fan.
Lily glances up when I’m a few steps away and her smile beams with what I hope is relief to see me. My stomach twists because I love that she looks at me like that,but what did she do?
“Hey! James saved you a seat,” she says, sliding her hand around my side and to my back as she steps up to kiss me. Her lips are cool and electric. She’s popping with nerves, but she seems so ready for this. My questions can wait, at least thirty minutes until her race is done.
“I brought you flowers.” I hand them to her, and she pulls them to her chest and inhales. “They’re lilies because, well . . .”
She giggles.
“Yeah, I get it. Clever.” She eyes me but smirks. My brain is split in half, one side happier than it’s been in months, the other full of shouting and questions.