“Deal?”
His voice is pointed, like this agreement holds the weight of the world, and not just two college students working their way out of their issues.
When I close my eyes, I see red ink on white paper. As harmless as Grant might think failing a class may be, to me, itisthe weight of the world.
I slip my hand into his, soft skin against his calloused palm.
“Deal.”
seven
GRANT
Locke is confronting Liliana.
Well, he might be. Confronting, ordering a drink—they could be the same thing. He could be interrogating her about our non-existent project in between requests to froth his almond milk.
Tonight is one of the few times I decided not to sit at my window seat, choosing a two-person table instead. It doesn’t have the Boston scenery, but this angle is even better to glance at Liliana during the last moments of her shift.
Her hair is pulled into a ponytail, tied with a pastel yellow ribbon in the same shade of the daffodils littering her dress. She taps something into the tablet and smiles up at Locke, passing his card back. It’s polite, but unlike the smiles and throw-her-head-back laughs I distinctly remember from our undergrad days. The grin she gives Locke is all customer service. A tiny part of me grinds at the scene of him getting one of those smiles, though.
I can’t say I’m totally upset he’s here. I guessed he would spy on me. Running into him again makes my lie look morebelievable, and it means I have proof he’ll come back. Reasons to see Liliana next week to maintain my story. I’d want to see here outside of this context, too, where we’re not tethered to schoolwork and cafés.
From the passenger seat of my car again. Under the Boston streetlights. Standing in the middle of an art museum, where she’s surrounded by pieces as beautiful as her.
I occupy myself with my sketchbook to get out of those thoughts. They’re frequent daydreams, and have been since the day we met, but I can’t expect them to become reality if I don’t earn her trust back.
I focus on tracing out the stems across the page instead and ignore the café doorbell ringing.
“I’ll take it he’s not a friend of yours?” Liliana pulls me out of focus a few minutes later.
“Not necessarily.”
She delicately places her bag on the table and takes the seat across from me. “Are you going to tell me who that is, and why we need to be seen together like this?”
My nose turns up. Locke isn’t many things to me. A distant relative, if I had to classify him as anything at all, but not important by any means.
He’s also the last topic I want to be discussing with Liliana, who I’ve decided to make my main priority. This started with deceiving Locke, but it’s more than that now. Memories of everything gone wrong between us flooded back once she mentioned our final.
The emotions that took over me that week. The way I locked myself into my room. Results that followed, with failed grades and lonely drinking nights in the quiet of my apartment.
The fact that I left her hanging there with no explanation and no back-up plan.
Our positive memories are what I’ve clung to. I selfishly pushed our one negative experience out of my mind.
I’m glad she brought it up. I deserve it. After spending so much time together, getting as close as we did, sheshouldfeel angry towards me. And I’ll take full responsibility.
I’ll take responsibility for earning my way back into her life, too. I intend to get back into Liliana’s good graces and prove I’m worth her time. I want to explain myself to her. I need Liliana to know I could never forget a girl like her.
“If I tell you who he is, will you let me explain what happened the day of the final?”
Her face falls instantly. When she walked over, it felt casual, like we were friends. But her back straightens at my words, and we’re back to being two acquaintances, if that.
“No.” She waves her hand, light purple nails flailing around. “I told you. The assignment is too important. We need to focus on that.”
My lips press into a thin line. It’s her I think is important, not the assignment.
But if that’s what she cares about, I’ll commit myself to it, and work my way to a point where she’ll want to hear what I have to say.
