I Want It That Way - Aguirre Ann - Страница 51
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Though I tried not to let on, Sam picked up on my mood. He tried to climb on my lap, and I couldn’t let him. I told myself it was because I had work to do, but he must’ve sensed my reservations. His face crumpled when I set him down, big brown eyes swimming in tears.
He clenched two small fists, and he kicked me in the shins.
“You’re mean! And I hate you!”
“What’s wrong?” Mrs. Trent came over, kneeling down to study him in concern because this behavior wasn’t like Sam.
Shit. This was exactly what Ty wanted to avoid.
“He wanted to look at a book together, but I have to clean up first.” It sounded plausible, and Mrs. Trent glanced at Sam, brows raised. Guilt stung me.
“That’s not why. You don’t like me anymore. You haven’t told me a dinosaur joke in forever and you never smile.”
Get it together. You can’t let the breakup affect how you treat Sam. He deserves better.
“That’s not true. I’m sorry if it seems like I’ve been cranky lately. Give me five minutes and I’ll read to you, okay?”
Sniffling, he nodded, watching with worried eyes while I picked up toys. Once I finished, Sam climbed into my lap, and I did the voices for his favorite story. When I finished, he hugged me around the neck; I resolved not to let my misery impact him ever again. In the days that followed, I worked. I studied. I did everything I was supposed to, tiptoeing around the hole inside me. Some nights, I dreamed of Ty. It was never profound, just those little things, like him opening the car door or framing my face in his hands, and I always woke with my face wet with tears. I don’t know how to be brokenhearted. I wish you hadn’t taught me. A few times a month, I saw them coming and going, father and son, twin copper heads shining in the sun. Their circle was complete without me. I turned away from the window; I never went out on the balcony anymore, and not because it was too cold. Probably it was a good thing Ty had never hung out here in the apartment with me. I’d have to move.
Toward the end of January, my roommates threw a small party. Courtney and Emily came, and a new guy Angus was dating, Del Webber. He was cuter than the ex-boyfriend, J-Rod, African American instead of Puerto Rican, plus sweeter and kinder, too. Luckily, it wasn’t the kind of bash we hosted for Lauren, just a few close friends, plus beer and pizza in honor of my birthday. There was cake, one Lauren and Angus baked. They lit candles and sang to me, and I could only wonder, Does Ty know? Is he listening for my steps? Or has he stopped?
Objectively, the night was a success. I had fun. I opened presents. Afterward, I thought, So I’m twenty-two. Lauren was oddly quiet after everyone left, and I decided I’d had enough. Leaving cleanup to the guys, I said, “You and me. Now.”
A small sigh slipped out, but she nodded and said inexplicably, “This is what I was waiting for, anyway.”
In our room, I shut the door, sat down on my bed and folded my arms expectantly. There was most definitely something on her mind, but I couldn’t imagine what. “Well?”
She curled up on the floor beside my bed and rested her chin on the edge of the mattress, a pose familiar since high school. “We talked a little before about how I’m not sure PoliSci is right for me.”
“I remember. Did you decide to change your major?”
Lauren shook her head. “It’s not that. There’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just come out with it. I’m going home.”
“What?” That didn’t even make sense.
“You wanted so bad for us to go to college together, and when we were eighteen, I wanted it, too. But I hate Michigan. I miss Sharon—never thought I’d say that—and I miss my mom.” From her expression, this wasn’t homesickness talking, something most people got over freshman year. “I tried so hard to make this work, but...this is your dream, not mine, Nadia. I didn’t want to let you down, but I just can’t pretend anymore.”
“So what’re you going to do?” Somehow I didn’t yell at her or make this about breaking a childhood pact. I had to be better, stronger, than that. Somehow. Even though most of me was screaming that I couldn’t give up Lauren so soon after Ty.
It’s too much. This can’t be happening.
“I already lost my scholarship,” she said softly, not looking at me. “I tried to prepare you when I said I didn’t do well at midterms. I did not, in fact, make it up at finals. So...Mom can’t afford tuition now, and I’ll be withdrawing before the cutoff date. I’m going home in four days.” She didn’t sound sad, though. It was more like there was a smile hidden like a sunrise at the back of her throat, and she was just waiting for me to say it was okay, so she could let herself feel the happiness and relief.
I managed to say, “Shit. When I said one day, I’ll wake up sad as hell because you’re not here, I didn’t realize it would be so soon.”
She let out a choky laugh, the smile finally cracking the solemnity of her face, but tears sparkled in her eyes, too. “Yeah, that caught me off guard. It’s why I cried that night. I knew this day was coming.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you’d have tried to talk me out of it by suggesting another major or making some other change that didn’t involve leaving Michigan.”
“You’re probably right,” I admitted. “Is this why you shot Max down?”
Lauren shook her head. “He’s just not for me. I like him as a friend, but I want even more to go home.”
“I can understand that.” Okay, not really. Sure, I missed my parents and Rob, but as for Sharon, Nebraska? No. I didn’t want to live there again.
“Maybe you should come with me. You need to stop thinking about Mr. Hot Ginger, anyway. If he’s not smart enough to see what he has in you, then he needs a kick in the nuts.” That was 100 percent friend loyalty talking.
“Nothing he said was wrong. That’s part of why it’s so painful.”
“If you say so. I talked to Courtney, and she wants to move out of the dorms. Her roommate is constantly smoking in the room and hiding her stash in Courtney’s stuff. She’s to the point that she’s afraid of getting arrested. Unless you object, I plan to sublet my half of the room to her for spring semester. I won’t leave you guys hanging on the rent.”
“Courtney’s fine. I mean, she’s not you, but we can manage.”
“I’m so glad you don’t hate me. I thought you’d freak and remind me how we promised to be in caps and gowns at the end of college, facing the future together.”
Since I’d considered doing exactly that, she was proving how well she knew me. Fresh tears stung my eyes, and my voice was thick when I pretended how much I’d changed. “That was a really long time ago, LB. We were, what, fourteen? People change.”
They did, and I didn’t want them to. Sometimes, when things were perfect, I wanted them to remain exactly the same. But life wasn’t static. It went on.
I’m losing my best friend.
It was hard not to feel that way, even though Lauren was talking about how we’d Skype, email and see each other when I came home in the summer. Six months, when we hadn’t been apart for more than a couple of days since we were eighteen and hopelessly lost on campus, that first week. I nodded in the right places, but she was clouding over, probably because I had the worst poker face in the world. Thanks to Ty, I knew that, but I couldn’t fix it.
“Nadia, don’t cry, or you’ll get me going.”
I dug the heels of my hands into my eyes, but it didn’t help. With a choky sob, Lauren climbed onto my bed, cursing quietly. “See, this is exactly how I didn’t want it to go.”
We held on to each other and cried, and for me, it was a farewell to childhood, admitting that sometimes, no matter how much you wanted something, it would never, ever come true. She petted my hair and we stayed up superlate, talking about old friends, people we hadn’t seen in years and in some cases, would never see again. When the light cracked in through our windows, I heard the closing of a door. It was probably Max leaving for work, but for me, it was symbolic, and Lauren felt it, too.
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