She could tell him how she felt, but it didn’t feel like enough. He had made it clear from day one that it was the campaign over her. It didn’t seem to matter to him that he loved her. He stood up for her against Heather and Elliott, but just so that he and Liz could keep doing what they were doing. And that wasn’t going to change.
“Vic,” Liz croaked, closing her eyes against the tears.
“What’s wrong?” Victoria asked. Liz opened her eyes to find Victoria kneeling in front of her. “Are you okay?”
She shook her head, wishing she could let it all out. Hiding things was too hard.
“Are you going to tell me what happened?” Victoria brushed Liz’s hair off of her face and rubbed her shoulder.
“I don’t know,” she muttered.
“Come sit on the couch with me,” Victoria said, taking her hand and guiding her to the sofa.
Liz flopped down and pulled her knees up to her chest. She felt ridiculous crying over this. She didn’t like to cry at all, and now she was crying over a guy? Ugh! She wanted to tell herself to get it together, but it wasn’t working. Maybe just today she would let herself feel the pain that she was experiencing over falling for the wrong guy.
“So, tell me,” Victoria said, wrapping an arm across Liz’s shoulders. “What happened?”
“He kissed me,” Liz sputtered out.
Victoria stiffened and Liz glanced up at her. She had an amused expression on her face. “You’re crying because Hayden kissed you?”
“Ugh! No!” she cried, shaking her head. “I can’t even right now, Vic.”
“Liz, come on. Didn’t you want Hayden to kiss you? I’m confused.”
“Yes, I did, but not now! I wanted him to kiss me before. I wanted him to want me then…when it would have mattered!”
Victoria scrunched up her eyebrows in confusion. “You’ve lost me. Why does it matter if it’s then or now? He kissed you. He wants you. I told you so.”
“Because…I’m seeing someone else,” Liz whispered, burying her head in her hands.
“What?” Victoria asked, flabbergasted. “Since when? Who? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Liz shook her head. “I can’t talk about it, but we’ve been seeing each other all summer.”
“Why can’t you talk about it?”
Liz looked up into Victoria’s eyes and sighed. “I just can’t, Vic. I haven’t told anyone about it. I mean, I just told you, but that’s it, and I can’t even tell you who it is. But he loves me, Vic, and I kissed someone else.”
“Whoa, love?” Victoria asked. “He told you he loves you?”
“Erm…” Liz muttered, biting her lip. “Not exactly, but I overheard him tell someone else.”
Victoria breathed out really fast and glanced away, as if she were thinking about the situation at hand. “Let me get this straight. You’ve been secretly seeing someone all summer, who you can’t tell me about, who you overheard tell someone else that he loves you, and you’re crying because another guy kissed you?”
Liz stood very still while Victoria laid out her situation plainly. If only she could tell her more, it wouldn’t sound so…silly.
“I don’t want to break your heart, Liz, but it sounds like that other guy is using you…”
“He’s not,” she answered immediately.
“Why does he have to keep it a secret?”
“I can’t talk about it…”
“Well, if it is that big a secret, then you can’t reasonably say that you two are dating. You have to be in a relationship for it to be wrong to kiss someone else. It kind of sounds to me like this guy is stringing you along…”
“Victoria, he’s not. I swear. He’s not.” Liz dropped her head into her hands. She didn’t even want to consider that Victoria’s words were true. She wished she could just tell Victoria what was going on. It would be so nice to have it all out in the open.
“Well, you won’t tell me the whole situation! From an outsider’s perspective, this sounds like a bad idea. You shouldn’t beat yourself up over a kiss with Hayden if you can’t even tell your best friend who the other guy is. I bet he doesn’t want you near other guys either, right?” Victoria asked, rolling her eyes.
Liz froze. Her tears dammed up. “He doesn’t, but I don’t know any guy who does.”
“I’ve been with a guy who wanted to keep things on the down-low, and let me tell you, it didn’t end pretty. He was seeing someone else on the side, all the while telling me not to see anyone else. I thought it was kind of stupid, but went along with it for a little while, because I was kind of into him. Then I find him sleeping with someone else and he doesn’t understand why I would be against that,” Victoria said, shaking her head. “All I’m saying is that a guy who wants to keep secrets from other people…is going to be okay keeping secrets from you…”
Liz wished that she could tell Victoria the whole situation. She wanted to so badly. “It’s not like that…”
“Then tell me who he is,” Victoria said, standing with her hands on her hips. “If it’s not like that, then tell me who this guy is.”
“I can’t tell you, Victoria! If I could, I would have told you already!” Liz cried.
“Seriously, I don’t get it. Why is it such a big deal?” Victoria demanded. “Can you at least tell me that?”
“No! I can’t!” Liz yelled back, pushing her hands into her hair.
“Ridiculous. What kind of guy forces you to keep secrets from everyone?” Victoria asked, pacing.
“I can’t explain it. But I don’t want to keep secrets anymore. I want to be out in the open. I want whatever we have to be all the time.”
Victoria rolled her eyes again. “I hate to be pessimistic about this, Liz. I want you to be happy, but this sounds like a recipe for disaster.”
Liz sighed heavily. It did sound like a recipe for disaster. Before, when it had just been about the sex, none of this mattered. But now it did, and maybe all along he was using her and stringing her along and it had been okay, because she was doing the same thing. Now that wasn’t what she wanted anymore. She wanted a relationship with Brady, which had its own set of problems.
“I know,” Liz finally whispered, pressing her hand under her eyes to wipe away the last remaining tears. “I guess I’ll have to talk to him.”
“That’s probably for the best,” Victoria said, sitting back down finally. “I’m sorry I made things worse. I didn’t mean to.”
“It’s okay.”
“You’re sure you can’t tell me. It might make me understand…”
“Vic,” Liz interrupted, “I can’t tell you.”
“Okay,” she said with a shrug. “Talk to this guy and tell him what you told me. See what happens. But Liz…”
“Yeah?” Liz glanced up into Victoria’s face.
“You didn’t do anything wrong by kissing Hayden. Don’t let anyone else convince you otherwise, all right?”
Liz sighed and nodded. If she hadn’t done anything wrong, then why did she still feel so bad?
The next day, Liz trudged onto campus bright and early to get her grade from her journalism professor. She hadn’t slept much, because she had been waiting for Brady to call her. He knew when she was coming back, so he could have called last night, but he didn’t. She would have to wait for Brady, as difficult as that was.
She walked through the journalism building until she found Professor Mires’s office. The door was open and a student was already inside talking to her. Liz took a seat in a chair outside of the room and waited.
She hoped that she looked okay, because she hadn’t taken any time with her appearance. Yesterday’s makeup still covered her face, and she had thrown her hair into a messy bun on the top of her head. She was run-down from not sleeping, and stressing her way through every imaginable scenario with Brady.
“Yes, thank you for stopping by,” Professor Mires said as the student who had been in her office exited. “Miss Dougherty, how are you?”
Liz stood and stifled a yawn. “Hello, Professor Mires.”
“You’re here for your grade, I presume?”
“I know you said in class that we could stop by on Monday and you should have our papers finalized.”
“In fact, I do. Come on in,” the professor said, gesturing for Liz to follow her.
Liz took the seat in front of the professor’s desk. Professor Mires wore her typical librarian glasses. Her brown hair was a curly mess, which explained why she always wore it in a bun. She had on a long blue skirt that dragged the floor, and a cream linen blouse. She took a seat in front of Liz and folded her hands in her lap.
“What are your plans for the next two years, Liz?” Professor Mires asked. “You are an upcoming junior, correct?”
“Yes, I am,” Liz said, straightening at the question. “I’m not sure I understand what you’re asking. I’m planning to finish my degree in journalism and work on the paper.”
“I understand that you’re a Morehead scholar and that your senior year, you must have an internship with a completed in-field research project. Had you thought about what you are going to do for this?” Professor Mires prodded.
“I had given some thought to working in-field at a Raleigh newspaper and commuting back and forth. I have a scholarship meeting with my advisor at the beginning of school to discuss possibilities,” Liz told her.
“Hmm,” she said, leaning forward and thumbing through a stack of papers on her desk. She extracted one from the pile and handed it across the table to Liz.
Liz took her paper eagerly. She flipped to the back page and saw the page filled top to bottom with red ink and a small A+ circled at the bottom. Liz inhaled sharply, unable to believe what she saw. She skimmed through the comments, which was one long glowing review of the article she had written.
“Thank you,” Liz muttered, glancing back up at her professor.
“I’m giving you an A in the class,” Professor Mires told her. “I know your performance was less than adequate at the beginning, but I’m a strong believer in improvement. And you went above and beyond. I challenged you, and you accepted the challenge with fervor. Each week you got better, but this”—she pointed at the paper—“this showed what you are really capable of. You’ve done a great job at changing your perspective, broadening your scope, and remaining objective. You should hold on to these skills. They’ll take you far.”
“Oh,” Liz said, “thank you.”
The one paper Brady had given her the idea for was the paper that her professor thought had changed her. She had worked hard all summer to achieve this A, really stretching her perspective and working toward what Professor Mires wanted from her. But she knew that Brady had helped with that. He had shown her politics from a different perspective entirely. She had been able to take what she had learned from him and layer it with what she already knew about the world, and that had helped her relate to her audience.
That man will be the death of me.
“Well, you convinced me to believe in your work with that last paper. It showed me that you can improve…and drastically in a short period of time. I’ve been looking for someone like that to help with my research. I’ve recently acquired a grant, and I’ll be doing research with several universities around the country and working directly with the Washington Post. Part of the funds will go toward putting together a colloquium regarding political journalism, and most of the North Carolina state papers as well as Wash Po, New York Times, and CNN have signed on to participate. I know that you are working on the university paper, and if you continue on the path with politics, then you will surely have your hands full, but I do hope you consider taking the time to work with me. I would be happy to sign off on your internship credit.”