After a few minutes of poking and swiping at his phone, David replaced it in his pocket. “Sorry,” he said. “Dr. Hammond was emailing me about next term’s workshops.”
This jogged a new thought that hadn’t occurred to me until that moment. “Hey, the term is officially over.”
“It is,” he confirmed.
“So . . . your workshops for the term are officially done.”
“Yes, they are.”
“Sooo . . . I’m not technically one of your students anymore.”
“Oh, yeah.” He nodded his head. “Cool.”
He just sat there, not looking at me, continuing to nod his head. Maybe it was silly of me, maybe it didn’t really matter, but ever since Cambria had pointed it out, I had been bothered by the fact that David and I weren’t official. I tried telling myself I was okay with it, but really, I wanted to know what we were, without any doubts. I wanted to be able to call him my boyfriend. I wanted to tell my parents and peers and anyone who asked that I had a boyfriend, and that he was a blonde-haired law student named David.
He had told me we needed to keep things on the downlow while I was registered in his workshop, that our relationship might not be perfectly kosher, that his father had not approved of our pairing. But now the workshop was done, nothing to worry about. I wanted him to tell me we were fully kosher now, nothing to be discreet about—just a normal, real relationship that could be made known to all. He didn’t seem to be picking up on any of my hints, however.
“What are your plans for the break?” I asked him, placing my hand on his thigh. “Maybe we could make some fun plans together. Maybe I could meet your family over the holidays?”
This seemed to get a reaction from him. His neck twisted around toward me, and he looked utterly serious. “Drew. Didn’t I tell you? I’m going on vacation with my family.”
“No.” I removed my hand from his leg. “You didn’t tell me that.”
“I’m sure I did. I’m leaving next week for Fiji and getting back in January. I told you that. Remember?”
“No.”
I was absolutely positive he hadn’t said a word about these Fiji plans of his.
“You were so busy with school, working so hard. It must have slipped your mind.”
Anger started bubbling up inside of me. It was white-hot. Flames made their way to my tongue.
“Fiji,” I heard myself say. “For the whole break? You’re just leaving me here—just like that?”
He shifted on the couch, turning his body so that he could face me straight-on.
“Drew. What am I supposed to do? I told you about this ahead of time.”
“No, David. You didn’t. And even if you had, it’s still pretty shitty that you’re bailing on me for the entirety of our time off.”
The words flew off my lips, teeth, and tongue before I had a chance to think about them first. This was not like me. I always favored thinking before speaking. But the flames were in control for the moment.
David pressed his hand to his forehead. I realized that, had we been alone, like we had that night in his office, things would probably be going very differently right then. But we were there in my apartment, with Cambria just a room away. I could see him struggling to stay calm. There was that word again. Struggling.
He stood up and spoke in a low tone. “I don’t need this from you, Drew. I thought you were mature for a twenty-one-year-old. I don’t need your juvenile drama.”
“Juvenile drama?”
“Please, don’t pull this shit with me, Drew. There are so many women closer to my age I could be going out with. But I’m going out with you. Please, don’t make me regret that.”
I sat there, dumbfounded, tears welling up in my eyes, my hot anger extinguished by his piercing words. David shook his head and gestured in the air.
“Let’s just be cool about this. I’m leaving for Fiji on Sunday. I’ll see you in January. Okay?”
He leaned down, stroked his hand through my hair, and kissed me. Then, he grabbed his coat and went out the front door.
◈ ◈ ◈
I shut myself in my bedroom and curled up on my bed. Tears pooled up in my eyes and spilled over, streaking down my face. I felt the wet paths they made, little rivers over my cheeks, running down toward my left ear and pillow.
Somehow, on the last day of Fall Term, during my first hours of Winter Break, I was having the worst day I’d had in months. I replayed the scene with David again and again. It took me maybe ten times over to realize one thing in particular that he’d said.
Going out. Those had been his words. But I’m going out with you.
So, there it was. We were official. At least, I thought that meant we were official. I would’ve predicted myself to be happy after hearing those words from him. I would’ve predicted myself to be happy on my last day of Fall Term. But I was nothing close to happy. What had gone so wrong?
“Drew?”
Cambria’s voice came through the other side of my door. She spoke again: “I’m going out. I’ll be back in a couple hours.”
I didn’t want Cambria to find out what had just happened with David. I didn’t want her to know I was crying, to drag her down with the details of my miserable day. I cleared my throat, trying to sound as normal as possible when I raised my voice to say, “Have fun.”
I heard her walk away and exit through the front door. It was just me again, free to sob however loudly I wanted, free to wallow in my distress. But then, as I thought about this more, I realized that I didn’t want to just lie here, continuously reliving everything that had just happened. The fight with David. The meeting with Mrs. Thompson. Maybe Cambria had the right idea about going out tonight. I located my phone on my nightstand and pulled up my text message thread with Kat.
Happy Winter Break, I texted her. We should celebrate tonight.
It was fifteen minutes before she responded: I’m busy tonight.
Tomorrow then? I asked her. I could really use some fun after the day I just had.
I’m going back home tomorrow. See you next term!
I hurled my phone down onto the mattress, buried my face in my pillow. That seemed about right. Not only was David unexpectedly escaping, but the only friend I really had in this town was also leaving me behind without a forewarning. Another five minutes went by, and I heard my phone buzz against the sheets.
I figured it would be Kat again, sending one last goodbye text. But it wasn’t. It was another text from the unknown number. I had completely forgotten about those strange texts I’d received prior to my meeting with Mrs. Thompson.
The text said, Hello? Drew? You too cool to talk to me anymore?
There was no question now—this was definitely not a wrong number. This person knew me.
Who is this? I responded to the unidentified texter. I got a reply in less than a minute.
Are you kidding me??? Did I forget to give you my new number?
I stared at my phone, unsure of what to write back. Then, after a matter of seconds, another text came through:
It’s Riley. Remember me? Riley Banks? Your extremely cool BFF from high school?
I sat up in bed, shoving sheets off my body. I stared at the screen of my phone. Riley Banks. When was the last time I’d heard from her? We had talked on the phone here and there during my first year of college—just like River and I used to text occasionally that year. I seemed to have a pattern of getting out of touch with old friends.