Chapter Twenty
Kira
Nic is being weird.
I mean, Nic is always a little off-kilter, which is one of the things I like so much about her. She can be kind of a space
cadet, but in a way that’s endearing rather than annoying. I mean, she’s brilliant, and she listens when we’re talking and
has thoughtful things to say. She just... gets a little lost in her head sometimes, as if she’s listening to a different
song than everyone else.
That’s not what’s happening tonight, though. Tonight, Nic just seems... off. Spacey in a bad way. Through the first round of drinks, our toasts to Skylar, and Ian’s harried late arrival, her mind is very much elsewhere—which
is unfortunate, because I wore this sheer glittery crop top and skin-tight skirt, hoping she’d be peeling me out of them at
the end of the night. She’s looking good too, in her understated way: straight-legged black slacks that make her ass look
unbelievable and a vivid purple button-down with only the buttons right over the bust buttoned. Her hair is in a high ponytail
that Willow clearly helped with, leaving her face and chest on full display and accentuating the lines of her neck. We haven’t
seen each other since she moved back to her apartment, or even spoken much, thanks to conflicting work schedules. Apparently
I’ve gotten rather used to regular partnered orgasms.
“Make sure you mentally put her clothes back on before you talk to her,” Grace shouts in my ear, to be heard over the music.
I whip around with a glare to find her looking like the cat that got the cream.
“Shut up,” I hiss, leaning in close. “I’m not... We’re not—”
“Not what? Sleeping together?” Grace says with a laugh. “Because that’s a goddamn lie. I am your roommate and you two are not subtle. I wasn’t at the studio every night, you know.”
I want to melt into a puddle and vanish through the cracks in the sticky club floor. Knights is not exactly the club I would
have chosen for this event, but Marco insisted that Skylar would want her not-a-bachelorette party somewhere new, to see as
much as she can before she leaves. I get his point, but... ugh. This place is a bit too phallic for my tastes. Unsubtle
artwork about knights and their “lances” everywhere. Skylar thinks it’s hilarious. I’m just wishing there was a quiet corner
somewhere that I could pull Nic into and ask her what’s wrong. But maybe that would be too not-subtle. We haven’t told anyone
about our arrangement other than, apparently, Grace (by accident).
I don’t know. Maybe I’m just not built for hookups, or maybe anyone would start to develop feelings after a month of sharing
a bed, meals, friends, and quiet evenings—
I slap a hand over my eyes and face away from the group to get my expression under control.
“Hey, are you okay?” Grace asks, wrapping an arm around my waist and resting her head on my shoulder. “Shark mode disengaged.
Serious Grace here. What’s going on? Are you and Nic fighting or something?”
The words burst right through the dam I’d carefully constructed, apparently just waiting for someone to ask so I wouldn’t
be alone in this.
“We’re not anything , Grace. We were just hooking up. Nothing serious. It’s casual.”
“Oooh,” Grace says, rubbing my arm as I blink away the tears. “Lovey, you haven’t done a single casual thing in the entire
time I’ve known you. Granted, it’s only been two years, but...”
“No, you’re right,” I say, sniffling. “You’re right. I said the exact same thing to myself when all this started. I should
have known better. This was always going to end badly for me.”
Grace waggles her hand as if to say, eh, kinda .
“I’m not sure it has , actually,” Grace says. “Nic’s been staring at you every second you’re facing away from her. But she’s got that same miserable
nauseated kangaroo look she had the night before she left for grad school. Something’s up... but it’s not that she’s uninterested or whatever.”
I’m not sure that makes me feel any better, but at least I can work with it. I give Grace a quick side hug and a murmured
“thanks,” then make my way back to the group. Before I can get too close to Nic, though, her eyes widen ever so slightly.
She turns to Ian, fully interrupting his conversation with Marco to launch into some in-depth discussion of a video game they
once played.
O... kay. I hover for a second, unsure, until a new song starts and Skylar screeches.
“Kira, dance with me!” she screams over the music, grabbing me and Marco by the arm. We’re unceremoniously dragged onto the
dance floor, where Skylar plants herself between us and dances her heart out to some song she and Marco know that I’ve only
vaguely heard of. But I can do this. I can have a good time, celebrate my friend, and talk out the weirdness with Nic some
other night. Now’s not the right time. We’re here for Skylar.
The others join in, the whole group drawing closer and closer until the packed dance floor smashes us all together, laughing
and shouting with our arms above our heads. Even Nic seems to loosen up after a song or two, tipping her forehead onto my
shoulder when the shifting crowd around us shoves our bodies together.But just as the next song begins, Nic checks her phone...
then slaps a hand over her mouth with a high-pitched squeak.
“Uh, what was that about?” Ian asks, his awkward dancing slowing to a halt. Everyone else follows suit, pausing in a huddle
around Nic. Her eyes are wide, and her mouth is open in an extended “uhhh...” like she’s been caught at something and can’t
figure out what to say. My heart gives a pang of warning.
“Yeah, Nic,” I say, even as she avoids my eyes. “What is it?”
She hesitates a beat longer, eyes scanning around our group. But no one’s giving her an out. Willow, Ian, Marco, Grace, Skylar
and I wait until she finally cracks.
“I got accepted!” she shouts over the music, then shrinks back into herself.
My heart freezes, solid in my chest.
“You what ?” I demand. Nic backs up a half-step from whatever she sees in my face, then gathers herself with a steady nod.
“I got accepted to the PhD program at the University of Maryland. They do rolling admissions. It goes pretty quick, apparently.”
“You what ?” I ask again. “When did you even apply?”
“Yeah, Nic, why is this the first we’re hearing of it?” Skylar asks, sensing the tension. “Did anyone else know?”
Everyone else shakes their heads. At least I wasn’t the only one out of the loop. Nic, to her credit, looks ashamed.
“I only just sent in my materials last week,” she says. “My old advisor fast-tracked things for me. It’s not a one hundred
percent done deal yet. She personally recommended me to the committee and they still have to meet, but she says she talked
to some people, and it’s all but guaranteed. I loved working with her so much, and now I have the chance to research and write
with her again.”
“But what about your job?” Willow asks, their mouth set in a miserable frown.
Nic strangles her phone with her nervous fidgeting.
“That’s what started the whole thing,” Nic says. “I got a call from my supervisor last week saying that my position is getting
cut short. It’s ending in December. The perils of grant-funded employment, right?”
She gives a weak laugh, but no one laughs with her. I rack my brain for when, over the last week or so, she might have heard
about this, something that might justify her not mentioning it. Then...
“Oh my god. The last day you spent in our apartment. We were having dinner. Then you ran off and said you weren’t feeling
well. That’s when you found out, wasn’t it?”
She doesn’t immediately reply, but the answer is all over her face. I pounce again.
“Nic, why didn’t you say something? I was right there . I would have been happy to talk it through, or—”
“I didn’t want to talk it through!” Nic shouts. She bites the edge of her phone case, then shakes her head. “That night was already...
weird, and hard, and then I got hit with that news, and I was just...”
“Why was it weird that night, though?” I demand. I’m fully sticking my hand into an open flame at this point—I get that—but we’ve been
dancing around this, and I’m tired of it. I’m tired of people jerking me around, dangling the things I want in front of me,
only to snatch them away and blame me for it. If she’s going to do this, I’m going to make her say it.
“Why was it weird, Nic?” I ask again. The others are edging away from us, leaving us to talk—to fight , because that’s what this is. Our first fight as a not-couple, because we aren’t together. Not like that. But we could be, if only we could talk about it. So yes, I’m pushing buttons. I’m forcing the issues. We’re doing this right here, right now, in the middle of this
dance floor.
Nic finally explodes.
“This was supposed to be casual!” she says, her eyes shining in the dim light. “That’s what we agreed on. I can’t be getting
into something new right now. Skylar said—”
“Oh my god, Nic, you don’t have to live your life by these rules like someone’s going to arrest you for sticking a toe out of line!”
I say, sounding so desperate. “You can decide for yourself if something works. You’re doing exactly what you said you wouldn’t
do. You’re just doing what Skylar told you to do without stopping to think for yourself about what you want, what’s right for you .”
Nic rears back like she’s been slapped, her mouth agape. I should stop, I should just leave it there, but I can’t. I’ve been
boiling over with the need to tell her how I feel for weeks, and she’s never given me the chance. If this is going to be it
for us, then I at least need to know I told her.
“Yes, we agreed to keep things chill, I know,” I say. “But I’ve been trying to tell you, Nic—”
I cut off, my throat going thick with emotion. I close my eyes and take a breath, then force them open again, heart hammering.
“I’ve been trying to tell you that I want more,” I say, as quietly as I can and still be heard. “I want to be with you for
real. And maybe you don’t feel that way about me. I can take it. But I have to at least tell you: I love—”
“Come with me, then,” Nic says. Her fists are clenched at her sides, her eyes darting wildly around the room like she’s looking
for an escape. “If you want to give this a real try, then come to Maryland with me.”
I laugh. I can’t help it. It’s cruel, maybe, but it’s just ironic—this girl, the only person I’ve felt anything for in years,
is asking me for the one thing I unequivocally can’t do. And truly? I think that’s why she’s offering it. It’s a safe bet, because she knows it’s one I’ll never take.
“You know why I can’t leave Seattle,” I say, shaking my head.
Nic throws her hands in the air. “You’re never going to get anywhere here, Kira. You’ve said that yourself. Even your teacher
said so. How many promotions do you have to lose out on before you admit that it’s never going to happen for you here?”
I press my lips into a thin, hard line.
“And when are you going to stop grasping for something to give your life meaning?You can’t just run away to grad school every time you don’t
know what to do next!” I shout.
Nic folds her arms and lifts her chin in defiance.
“Watch me,” she says.
And she walks away. Away from me, from Skylar, from everyone, straight out the front door and into the night.
It’s over.
It’s over .