“We’re in the middle of studying.” She’s trying to turn me down or get me to go away.
“I know, it’ll only take a second.” I put on my most charming smile.
Taya barely blinks at it, and I miss that blush I used to put on her cheeks.
“You know, I have to use the bathroom anyway. I’ll be right back.” The guy she hasn’t even introduced me to gets to his feet and smiles as he goes to duck into one of the buildings.
Taya lets out a frustrated sigh. “What do you want?”
“Wow, so that’s what you think of me now.” I try to joke, but it lands flat when her expression doesn’t change from the annoyed, shuttered look she’s giving me.
“I wanted to apologize for the other day. The basketball game. I was dumb to put those stakes on it when we haven’t truly talked. It’s just, you won’t let me near you, and—”
“Well, you think I’m so alarming, so …” The pain in her eyes guts me.
“Shit, I didn’t mean that. It was the wrong word to use, and I’m sorry I was a dumbass for saying it. I just wish we could really sit down and hash this out.”
Because if we did and got all the miscommunication out of the way, I think this could be something. But I don’t jump right in and tell her that.
“Austin.” She shakes her head. “Why? You didn’t even want to do … whatever this is”—her hand moves back and forth in the air between us—“before you opened a letter you never should have read. You stopped the kiss we had, you were hot and cold about whether you want to flirt with me or hang out. Now it’s ten times more complicated and you want to have some therapy session about it?”
My heart rate speeds up, because she’s calling me out for very valid reasons.
“I never meant to make you feel that way, I was just confused about what I want. And then I found that letter, and your words were—”
“I’m not that girl, Austin. That girl was a freshman in high school, infatuated with the idea that a junior guy was hot. I didn’t even know you. I knew the idea of you. You can’t fault me for that. It’s like you having a crush on Mariah Carey, or whoever was your celebrity love interest, when you were eight. I’m incredibly embarrassed about this, and you’re making it worse. Why did you even read that letter once you realized it wasn’t yours? You had to have known, the minute you opened it up, that it wasn’t your handwriting. Maybe I should be pissed off at you for invading my privacy!”
Apparently, the dam has broken, and Taya is letting all of the things she hasn’t said to me just flow on out. Part of me must know to shut my mouth, because I don’t even try to interject as she keeps going.
“Do I think you’re hot? Of course. I’ve been flirting with you and kissing you and trying to get to know you. Actually know you. I wrote that letter six years ago. I was fourteen! You don’t think I’ve matured a bit since then?”
People are beginning to stare at us on the quad, but I don’t really care. I won’t see ninety-nine percent of these people ever again, and I’ve been waiting to have this conversation. I didn’t realize it would be a tongue lashing, but I’m at least a little glad we’re hashing it out.
“Taya, I’m a Van Hewitt. I know what that means to everyone from Webton, but no one knows what that means from inside the family. No one knows what it means from the inside perspective. It means I have to be skeptical of every single person who comes into my life. Do you know how many times I’ve been used because of my last name?”
Taya is ready to fire back, and I don’t even get to make my point about not caring about that letter anymore.
“As far as I’m concerned, I never truly followed through with my master plan, did I? There was no evil conspiracy to make you marry me as a sixteen-year-old kid. Unless you think I masterminded this entire thing. Yes, I definitely made Callum and Gannon invite you to sublet when I didn’t even realize it was happening. Oh, and maybe I was the one who made your other situation unlivable, because I’m such a genius!”
She throws her hands up in the air and rolls her eyes, but she’s not done.
“You only want me now because I’m so mortified that I can’t even look at you most of the time. God, you guys are all the same. I have a crush, want to get to know you, pursue something, but holy shit I’m being too forward. Though, now that I won’t let you apologize or kiss me because of some stupid bet, the envy monster in you comes out and you can’t stand to be without me? Bullshit. That’s bullshit, Austin.”
I hang my head, knowing that this is not going anywhere. Not only is she completely done entertaining a flirtation with me, but I’ve made my living situation completely awkward. Why the hell do I always seem to fuck everything up?
“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Taya. I wish I’d handled this better, and you should know that you’re the most genuine, unique woman I’ve ever met.”
I wish there was anything to remedy this, but we’ve both pretty much done all the damage we can. I look away from her, trying to grasp on to anything that might save this, and see her guy friend walking back.
“Nothing else? Great. You can go. I’m not going to be the one to storm off this time, I’m over this.”
Those last three words slice deeper than I think she intends them to. Maybe she’s right, I only want this when it’s a game, a competition to be won. Though, I’ve never been that guy. I’m just a confused human being who has been controlled and bossed around his whole life. When I’m allowed to make my own choices, I typically screw them up.
Rising and wiping the grass off my palms and onto my jeans, I look down at her one last time. “I really am truly sorry. I’m the one that fucked up here. If you want me to move out …”
I don’t get to get the question out before her guy friend comes back, and Taya sends me a warning look. She doesn’t want him to know what we were just arguing about.
My friends are long gone, probably not wanting to hear about my chick drama and only wanting to joke about their hookups. So, I walk through campus alone, feeling fully dejected.
19
Austin
There are parties at the Prospect Street house almost every night of the weekend.
I’m just not at them. After the time capsule letter and the subsequent follow-ups with Taya, I thought it would be good to give us our own territories while trying to have fun. And since I didn’t feel like staying at the house and watching her flirt with guys because that made my blood boil, I did what every other twenty-one-year-old at Talcott does.
Go to the bars.
There are three main bars in the Commons that college students frequent, but the night always ends at Stars Bar, where there’s a large dance floor and stage most of the girls drunkenly climb on by the end of the night. I’ve spent the last two weekends at Stars, because I couldn’t go home until I was sure most everyone was asleep.
Especially Taya. It’s easy enough to avoid her during the week, since we seem to be sticking to our opposite corners, aka our rooms. But when the roommates throw parties every other Friday and Saturday night, it’s inevitable I might run into her on the way up to the attic.