In Lit class this morning, I’d gotten annoyed with how she and Sebastian seemed to be hitting it off. They’d giggle at something, and friend or not, I’d wanted to yank him up out of his seat and pound his face. I was a douche for being jealous, but I couldn’t stop myself.
Now, I kept staring at her, willing her to see me. We’d always seemed to have this little connection between us, as if we could sense the other, but it didn’t work today. I sighed, wishing I could go up to her right now, pull her aside, maybe get her to leave and go outside so we could talk. Yeah, right, like that’s all I wanted to do to her.
How in the hell had I avoided her for an entire year?
Because my lust for her still burned white hot. And the love? Who the fuck knew.
Whatever. It didn’t matter. I had Emma. I had responsibilities.
But at least I felt better about the whole Barinsky thing since she’d told me it had been a big misunderstanding…
“Okay, I’m off now,” Emma said, coming to a stop in front of me, blocking my view of Dovey.
I blinked, letting go of Dovey. I had to.
I stood. “I still don’t see why I can’t come with you.”
She jangled her keys at her side. “Because you don’t need to miss class. You’d said you wanted to try to do better. You still have a chance at getting into Southern Methodist, remember?”
I sighed. Yeah. At least, out of all of this, I’d made a conscious decision to wake the fuck up and improve my grades so I could get back on track with pre-med.
But still. Emma was worrying me with her long face and the way her shoulders had seemed hunched over these past few days. She’d withdrawn, barely talking to anyone except me, and it worried me. It reminded me of my mother.
“Text me if you need me,” I told her.
She bit her lip. “It’s fine. I’ll tell you everything they say tonight.”
I smiled, trying to be brave for the us both, when I felt anything but. “Let’s celebrate at dinner tonight, and then we’ll go tell your parents, okay?”
She agreed and left, walking out the double doors. I watched her the entire way, wondering what our future was together. Was I ready to be tied to her for the rest of my life?
I didn’t have a damn clue.
“I took a pair of leather shoes, and turned them into a dream.”
–Dovey
FRIDAY ARRIVED, BRINGING with it the realization that tomorrow was D Day. I shuddered to think what Alexander would do if I didn’t have the drugs sold.
At school, I wasn’t thinking clearly. In Calculus, I’d flunked a math quiz when I ran out of time. I drifted from class to class, barely noticing what was going on around me.
At lunch, I sat across from Spider and Mila, silent while they chatted. His eyes bounced around the cafeteria, never meeting mine. Yeah. We’d crossed a line when he’d asked me out, and I didn’t know how to backtrack and fix it. I wanted to talk to him, perhaps even confide in him, but every time I’d see him, either he had a girl with him or he’d pretend to be in a big hurry.
Our easy going friendship had disappeared.
In dance, I couldn’t get anything right; my jumps were flat and my pirouettes pathetic. After a dismal session, I trudged out the door to snowflakes that fell like fluffy white feathers, a rare thing in Texas. I got to the quad with all the stark oak trees and stopped, watching the barren landscape ease into a white wonderland. On a normal day, I’d be fascinated by the picture it made, but not with the threat of Alexander hanging over me.
I sat down on a bench and called Spider. I’d reached a point that I didn’t care that he’d side-stepped me all week. I needed him. He was all I had.
He answered on the fifth ring, right before his voicemail kicked in.
“What up?” he said, and I heard the wariness in his tone.
“Can’t I just call?”
He sighed, and I heard fluttering in the background like clothes flapping around. “I’m getting in my car to go out.”
I gripped my phone. “You have plans?” It was Friday night.
“Yeah.”
“Bathroom girl?” I asked, feeling a tad jealous. I hadn’t been with a guy since October. My ballet partner Jacques had been the last, and I’d used his body frequently to erase the image of Cuba from my mind. Then one day he’d stopped calling me because he’d gotten serious with another girl. I’d barely noticed.
“Dovey,” Spider groaned, like he was irritated. “Do you really want to know the details of my sex life?”
“Just forget it,” I mumbled and hung up.
Why did I care if he had someone? Didn’t everyone? I had ballet.
I stared at my phone thinking he might call me back, but it didn’t ring. I called Heather-Lynn and Sarah, and they were out running errands and planned on seeing a movie later. They asked me to go, but I declined, saying I was tired. It wasn’t a lie. But I was lying to them about the whole Alexander thing, and it was putting a strain on me. After a few minutes of checking Facebook, I rose up and headed to the parking lot.
But then my day brightened.
Spider’s Range Rover was parked next to mine, the motor running. He must have driven like a maniac from the dorms to get here.
He rolled down the driver’s side window, and even though I was ticked, I couldn’t stop the grin that spread across my face as I checked out his I’m ready to party look.
“You’re gonna freeze,” I snarked, indicating his neon-blue mesh shirt.