I was so frustrated with everything. A week ago, I’d been content that my plans were going my way. I’d been making progress with the presentation, confident it would go well. And I’d been certain I was falling in love.
I thought I owed Tristan an apology for assuming he’d been a dick. And then he turned out to be a dick anyway. I kept forgiving him. And I kept scapegoating and hurting Alfie.
That was going to change. Starting now.
Chapter 30
On Friday after work, I crept up the stairs to Aida’s room, where she lay on her side, nursing Kamal. I sat on the floor. “So despite everything, it looks like Tristan is going to be sent to Germany. And I feel super used.”
“Yeah, well, you kind of suck at judging people.”
“Uh, thanks.”
“Have you decided what you’re doing tonight?”
The contest. “I’ve been eliminated.”
“Oh, well, that’s too bad.”
“But I won a Get Out of Jail Free card I could use to return for the last night.”
Aida asked, “So? What are you going to do, Sierra?”
“I don’t know.”
I could just stay out and let Tristan have it. But dammit, I didn’t want him to walk away with something else that could be mine without a challenge. He’d been playing dirty from the start, and I wanted to see him go down. I wanted to sabotage him or throw pies at him. I empathized with how Alfie had felt back in college.
Not that I could absolve his methods.
“Have you talked to Alfie?”
“What can I say to him? I wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t want to talk to me after how I’ve acted.”
“There’s something for you downstairs. Go see.”
On the kitchen table, a vase held the most perfect yellow roses. The card read, I don’t deserve this (but I’d like a chance to try).
He must have known I’d recognize the reference to the Ed Sheeran song we’d danced to alone in his apartment, when we were learning to trust in what we’d found in each other.
That was all I needed to know. Alfie wouldn’t fight for me like Tristan had pretended to. No tricks or coercion. Just a simple act of hope. Alfie’s way took so much more courage.
With that the waterworks started again. I dropped into the chair, hands folded, with my forehead resting on my wrists. I’d never cried so much in my life, but I was torn up.
The card slid out of my hand as Aida invaded my privacy. “These are from Alfie, right?”
“Who else?”
She took a chair beside me, Kamal wrapped snug against her. “Just making sure there isn’t some third suitor you haven’t mentioned.”
I snorted. “Only one that matters.”
“So what now?”
Trust and communication. I’d failed at both. I’d made such a hash of things.
Alfie was right. I’d been unfair, expecting him to be utterly perfect. Nobody was perfect.
I’d conveniently forgotten what Corinthians also taught: Love keeps no record of wrong.
It was time I let go of petty grievances and grew up. It’s time I piloted my ship instead of trying to stay safe on shore.
“I’m going to the contest,” I said.
She sat up. “Okay. I’m putting Marco on alert that he’ll be on his own tonight. I need to get out of this house, anyway. I’ll totally be there for you.”
“But I’m going to lose.”
She scowled. “Say what now?”
“I won’t get any votes for what I intend to say.”
“So why are you doing it?”
“Because there’s a bigger prize.”
Aida and I arrived at the bar together as we had six weeks earlier, except this time I wasn’t nervous for the same reasons I had been. I was still scared of the microphone and standing in front of the crowd, but it had been a mountain I’d conquered repeatedly now. I was nervous for what I planned to say. I’d run out of funny journal entries that would put me over the top, but I’d adjusted my view on what it would mean to win. I’d probably lost the one thing I’d originally wanted—the trip to Germany. And I may have lost something I hadn’t known I’d needed.
I was here to fight for what was important.
We were late, and the place was mobbed. I stood on my toes to peer over shoulders and see if Alfie might be tending bar. I made eye contact with Isaac, and he gave me an ominous look, one brow cocked as if he’d heard nasty rumors about me. Maybe Alfie had told him I’d been a jerk.
Tristan had already arrived and sat surrounded by some of the people who’d been eliminated in earlier rounds. It was like a grand reunion for a thing that hadn’t lasted as long as a gallon of milk in my fridge. Zane and Bryce had a table, so I dragged Aida over and introduced her.
“You ready?” I asked Zane.
“Yup. You?”
“Not at all.”
It wasn’t long before Miranda called everyone to attention. Since the only people left were me, Tristan, and Zane, I’d be going first for once. My stomach flipped. I scanned the room for Alfie, hoping he wouldn’t hide out in the back or upstairs during the contest, but he emerged from the kitchen in time to jump up on stage with his own words.
“Welcome to the grand finale of the Chagrin Challenge. Let’s have a round of applause for all our contestants.” He waited for the clapping to quiet. “It took courage to get up here and share the awkwardness and mortification, and we sincerely thank you for making us laugh or cringe. And I know how hard it was since I’ve been trying to participate in my own way. I’m not copping out tonight. I’m going to share one last poem before we bring up the real talent.”
He held up a piece of paper.
“This is called Outsider.
“Brick by brick
A wall, then two
A solid floor
A window, a door
No key in the lock
Can we talk?
Knock, knock.”
The audience laughed as though it was a big joke, and someone yelled, “Who’s there?”
When it was clear Alfie was done, everyone applauded. He’d probably win his own contest if popularity were the only judge.
I watched him as he handed off the mic to Miranda, and it hurt how much I missed him. He had the kindest eyes and a courage he didn’t realize. He’d lent me that courage for the past few weeks, and I hadn’t even appreciated how much emotional labor he’d done for me. I’d only seen what he might cost me.
Miranda called me up, and I stood, pegging Alfie with my eyes, hoping he’d understand I needed him to stay. He headed toward the bar and took a stool.
I climbed up the steps to the platform into a spot that had become comfortable with familiarity. Alfie had been so right about that. I couldn’t see him through the spotlight, but I looked in his direction. If my nerves took over now, I’d be doomed. I needed to remember everything I wanted to say. This was more important than any Gamescon demo.
I’d thought the room had been quiet before, but the silence became deafening. I felt like I was alone, speaking into the muffled darkness.