14 Sloane
April 2017
I wanted to feel even remotely excited about graduation, about interviewing for jobs and touring apartments in new cities—but the truth is, I was dreading all of it. This once lifelong goal of mine to move to New York and become a writer had somehow taken a back seat to my relationship with Ethan. I didn’t expect to fall in love. Honestly, some days I thought I never would. But then he came along, and I couldn’t (and didn’t want to) imagine a life without him in it. So I tried my best not to, until I couldn’t avoid the future any more.
“I got it!!!” Lauren shouted. Jordan and I ran down the hall to find her jumping around her bedroom.
“Got what?” we asked in unison.
“The teaching job in New York! They just called and are sending over my contract by the end of the week!”
“Congratulations!” I hugged her.
“This is huge, Laur!” Jordan concurred.
“You’re next!” She turned to me. “Once you get an offer letter, we can officially start to apartment hunt. Have you heard back from any of the places you’ve applied to?”
“Not yet. I probably need to get more serious about searching though.” I shrugged, trying to act like it wasn’t a big deal, even though I knew it was.
While I was so happy for Lauren, I couldn’t help but feel defeated that I still had no promising leads. I’d been lying to my mom for months—telling her interviewing was going well and I was getting better with each one I had. The truth was that I had only applied to three roles, none of which had reached back out to me. My grades were great though, which is probably why I hadn’t heard from her in a while.
“Jordan, are you sure you don’t want to try being a city girl? Just for a year?” Lauren pouted.
“Let’s face it, I’m never leaving Wilmington.” Jordan laughed. “And marketing coordinator at the yacht club really isn’t a bad gig. Think about it—hot guys, hot rich guys, hot rich guys with boats…”
“Okay, okay, don’t make me jealous.” Lauren laughed. “I’m going to call my parents to tell them the news!”
For the rest of the day, I searched high and low for any job in New York that I had enough experience for, which wasn’t as many as I’d hoped. If you know anything about job hunting right out of college, you know that most entry-level positions require three years of experience. How that made any sense, I wasn’t sure.
In the editorial world, entry-level positions were almost impossible to come by. Everyone was looking for new young voices, but a person had to stand out or be connected because the pool was massive. My mom was right: to make it as a writer in the city, it was sink or swim. I wasn’t even there yet, and I was already drowning.
After a few hours, my laptop died on me. I didn’t have the energy to search for my charger, so I gave up on my job hunt for the night.
9:22 p.m.
Ethan Brady:Heyo, how was your day?
9:35 p.m.
Me:Could have been better. Just applied to what felt like a hundred jobs. Lauren got one today and I’m worried I won’t ??
9:37 p.m.
Ethan Brady:Stop saying that. You’re so smart and talented. You’re gonna get something, I just know it. And don’t settle either.
9:37 p.m.
Me:Ugh, it’s just exhausting. I should’ve started applying months ago.
9:39 p.m.
Ethan Brady:Stop being so hard on yourself. Seriously, Hart. Be less hard than I am every time you walk into a room ??
9:40 p.m.
Me:You’re the worst.
9:40 p.m.
Ethan Brady:You like it. Night, Hart.
As annoying as Ethan could be at times, his lighthearted energy and advice instantly put a smile on my face. I fell asleep that night dreaming of New York and what life would be like there. My subconscious left Ethan out of every single one.
***
“You broke up with him?” My voice was raised as I set my to-go bag down on the table in front of Lauren. “Why? Did something happen? Graham has been a picture-perfect boyfriend. Literally he’s Prince Charming.”
“Nothing happened. Long distance just doesn’t make sense for us.” Lauren said.
“I don’t get it.” I truly couldn’t wrap my mind around the thought of Lauren breaking up with Graham. One minute they were perfectly fine; the next they were no more.
“If I’m being honest”—she took a bite out of her chicken sandwich before continuing—“he just started to feel like my friend. I think we jumped into things extremely fast, and while I have no regrets, I don’t want to keep putting effort into a relationship that I’m not sure about, especially while we’re hundreds of miles apart.”
Sometimes I wondered how Lauren was wise beyond her years. I wished that I had her confidence and sense of security. Even in the most unsure moments, she always seemed to know what she was doing.
“Well, how did he take it then?” I sipped my Dr. Pepper.
“He, uh, didn’t take it well at first. I don’t think he saw it coming honestly.” I could tell she felt bad. “But hopefully we can move past this and be friends one day. Especially if you and Ethan stay together.”
If.I hated hearing that word, but I knew she was right. If we stayed together. The odds were slim, but I was taking my chances. When it came to Ethan, I was all in.
“Yeah,” I nodded. “Are you still going to the luau party tonight?”
“We talked about that too. He said he didn’t want to make these last few weeks weird and that we can still exist in the same room but just keep to ourselves. I’ll come, but maybe we can just do a girls-only pregame at our place?”
“Of course.” I said. “After we finish lunch, I told Jordan I’d pick her up from Ascent so we could go to Goodwill and Target to get outfits and accessories. You in?”
“Well, now that I’m single, I have to look extra hot. So yes, I’m obviously in.”
I gave her a playful glare.
“Sloane! I’m kidding. I’m not gonna go whoring myself around twenty-four hours postbreakup. Especially not in front of Graham.”
“Just making sure. Let’s get out of here. We have a lot to do in the next few hours, and we can’t be late for our last LDOC party.”
***
We walked into the split-level house, which was covered in any and every decoration needed for a luau. Blow-up palm trees stood in each corner, lanterns hung from the ceiling, and leis were on the banister for people to grab as they walked in. Girls were dressed in bikini tops and cutoff shorts, guys in swim trunks and tank tops. Somehow, they had even managed to cover the dining room in sand. I felt bad for whatever brothers had to clean that up in the morning.
I spotted Ethan almost immediately and waved to him and Graham. As much as I hated the idea of not pregaming my last college party with him, it was a really special way to close out four years with the girls that got me through them.
“Sloaney bologna!” Graham picked me up and spun me around. I could tell he was already wasted based on the new nickname he’d just given me.
“Put me down!” I demanded.
“Okay, okay.” He obeyed. “Ladies, what’ll you have to drink?”
“PJ works,” Lauren replied. “Thanks, Graham.”
He half smiled at her and found his way into the kitchen.
“Well, that wasn’t too bad,” Ethan whispered.
“I can hear you, you know,” Lauren pointed out.
“Laur, let’s go to the basement,” Jordan said. “Sloane, wanna meet us with the drinks when Graham gets back?”
“Sounds good!” Once they were out of my line of sight, I turned to Ethan. “How’s he doing?”
“He’s fine. Just drunk now.” Ethan shrugged.
“That’s it?” I knew I wasn’t going to get much else out of him.
“Here you go, ladies!” Graham returned before he could answer. “Where’d they go?”
“To dance. I’ll take their drinks downstairs. Thanks again, Graham.” I side-hugged him. “You know you can always call me, right?”
“Right.”
And with that, I disappeared down the creaky wooden staircase that led into the basement, praying I didn’t drop one of the three drinks.
By 1 a.m. the kegs were kicked and the coolers full of PJ were dry. I scanned the basement full of sweaty twentysomething-year-olds until I located Ethan near the bar with Jake.
“Should we call an Uber?” Lauren asked.
Before I replied, I looked over to Ethan again. I wanted to stay there with him instead of babysitting Lauren, but I knew if roles were reversed, she would do it for me.
“Yeah, can you?” I handed her my phone. “I’m gonna go say bye to Ethan.” As I walked in his direction, I watched his eyes take me in.
“Hey,” he said. “Are you leaving?”
“Yeah, I’m gonna get Lauren home.”
“Where’s Jordan?” Ethan looked around the room.
“She went to Sigma Chi an hour or so ago.”
“Why don’t I get a sober brother to take you guys? You can make sure she gets home okay, and then he’ll drive you back to the house.”
“You’re sure?” I asked.
“Yeah, we’re gonna postgame, and I don’t want you to go home yet,” he reassured me.
Then, he kissed me. I felt on top of the world.
A freshman drove us back to Ascent and waited in the parking lot until we saw Lauren reach the second floor. She waved to us, and he started driving back in the direction of the postgame.
“So you’re Brady’s girlfriend?” he asked.
“I wouldn’t say that,” I replied. “I mean, I don’t know.”
Even after all of this time, I never knew how to describe us. Technically, we weren’t dating, but we were exclusive. At least, that’s what I thought. I hated how a title held our entire relationship in its hands. To me, we were very much in love. The most in love I’ve ever been. But to him? Well, I didn’t really know how he felt. All I knew was what his body language told me and what I felt. I knew he loved me. Deep down, I knew. Even if he hadn’t told me yet. He didn’t have to say it out loud for me to know. That was the best part about us.
“That’s cool,” he replied.
This guy probably wouldn’t even remember this conversation when he woke up in the morning, yet the question he asked would loom over me for days, maybe even weeks.
I got out of the car and thanked him for the ride. I couldn’t wait to see Ethan again. Walking into the fraternity house alone was always so nerve-wracking. I entered through the front door and walked through the foyer to find the guys settled in all the old leather couches in the living room.
“Sup, Sloane,” one of them greeted me.
“There she is!” Graham echoed.
I took a seat next to Ethan, and he squeezed my thigh. I was so glad I came back. I loved how it felt when he showed me the slightest bit of attention. The boys passed around slices of pizza, which they ordered once the party died down. They offered me some, but I declined. I hated eating in front of people, especially when I drank.
“Let’s go home,” Ethan whispered in my ear. Home.
Brothers had stopped driving once everyone from the party got home, so Ethan called an Uber and I shuffled into the back seat behind him. He pulled me so close to him that I was almost sitting on top of him. He kissed me, and his breath tasted like whiskey. Fireball, to be specific. I relished it. I parted my mouth to let him in, and I let the happiness flood in too. We got dropped off in the parking lot, and he held my hand up the entire three flights of stairs to his apartment.
As I opened the refrigerator and reached for the Brita, Ethan pulled the string on the back of my bikini top, and it fell to the ground.
“Ethan!” I gasped and covered myself.
“No one’s home.” He smirked. “Let’s do it here.”
“In the kitchen? What if Graham or Jake walks in—”
He put a finger over my mouth, picked me up, and set me on the granite countertop. With the force of his lower body, he spread open my legs and stood between them.
His mouth came so close to mine that I could smell the Fireball again, but he wouldn’t let me taste it yet. His hands found their way to the button on my denim miniskirt, while his lips lingered on my neck.
He lifted me, managing to wiggle my skirt and underwear off so that I was completely naked before sitting me back down on his kitchen counter. Within seconds his swimsuit was on the floor, and he pressed into me.
It was in moments like that when I was in control. I knew how he felt about me when we were intimate; it was written all over his face, but I could never get him to say it. I knew it was more than just sex to him. You don’t make love to someone that you don’t love, and what we were doing, that was making love. You couldn’t convince me otherwise.
***
The next morning the hangover was enough to swear off PJ and vodka for the rest of my life. I guess it was a good thing that yesterday was my last day of undergrad.
“Finally.” Ethan’s voice made my head pound even harder. “Your phone’s been going off for like twenty minutes.”
I snatched the phone off the nightstand and sat up as fast as I could without getting too lightheaded. When I unlocked it, I had two missed calls and a voicemail from a 212 area code. Did I even know where that area code was from? I held the phone up to my ear as I played the message.
“Hi, Sloane, this is Annie Walker. I’m a senior editor at The Gist. I reviewed your application, and I’d love to talk with you about a few positions we have open here. If you have time today, give me a call back on this number. Thanks!”
“Oh my god!” I screamed.
Ethan darted back into the room, grasping a bottle of Advil and a glass of ice water. The look on his face told me that he was extremely worried to hear whatever I was about to tell him.
“I have an interview!” I jumped out of his bed. He wrapped his arms around me, and I felt the condensation from the glass seep through my shirt.
“That’s amazing, but you almost just scared the shit out of me.” Ethan laughed and handed me two blue tablets. I put them in my mouth, followed by a large gulp of water.
“It’s for a company I literally didn’t think I’d hear back from. I was applying as a shot in the dark. I can’t believe she looked at my application! I need to call her back.” I kissed him, grabbed my purse, shoes, and clothes from the night before, and made my way down the single flight of stairs and into my apartment.
I pressed the callback number for Annie, my fingers nervously tapping against the cool surface of my phone as I shut my bedroom door behind me. The room was adorned with my cap and gown, graduation tassels, and scattered textbooks, a testament to the chaos of finals week.
“Hello?” Annie answered.
“Hi, Annie, this is Sloane Hart. I just got your voicemail!” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.
From the other end, I could hear the subtle ambient sounds of an office—the distant hum of conversation, the clatter of a keyboard.
“Sloane, thanks for calling back so soon. Apologies for the craziness. I leave on a weeklong trip tomorrow, so I was hoping to touch base with you before then,” she explained.
“No worries at all. Sorry I missed it. It’s finals week, so life is a little overwhelming with that and graduation right around the corner,” I lied, glancing at the pile of books and notes on my desk.
Annie’s voice softened slightly. “This is such an exciting time for you. So listen, I’ll just cut right to it. I know you applied for a staff writer position, and while I thoroughly enjoyed some of your work, I’m afraid it’s lacking some emotional depth,” she said.
My heart plummeted into my stomach, and a wave of disappointment washed over me as her words sank in. I absently twisted a strand of my hair, my gaze dropping to the floor.
“But,” Annie continued, “I wanted to see if you were interested in an assistant role that just opened up. We finally got budget to hire an assistant for our senior editors here. The position reports to me. You’d mostly be organizing calendars, handling travel, chasing down writers who are late on deadlines—those kinds of things. I know it doesn’t sound too glamorous, but there’s potential to grow. Your resume is impressive, and like I said, I like your work, and I think you have potential to grow as a writer, which I’m willing to help you with. If this sounds like a position you’d consider, I’ll connect you with HR to start interviewing while I’m gone.”
I didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t the position I’d been dreaming about, but it was a step in the right direction. It was also the only interview I’d been offered, so could I really have turned it down?
“Yes,” I finally answered, a tentative smile beginning to form. “That sounds great! Thank you so much for considering me.”
“Amazing. Be on the lookout for an email from me this afternoon. You send over your availability, and then you’ll receive calendar invites for Skype interviews with each of our senior editors. If all of those go well, your last round will be with me in a little over a week. Sound good?” Annie’s tone was upbeat and encouraging.
“Sounds great! Thanks, Annie. Enjoy your vacation,” I said with a newfound sense of optimism as I ended the call. I stood there for a moment, phone still in hand, wondering what my mom would think. I guess I’d cross that bridge once, no if, I got to it.