Chapter 6
AMELIA
“Cheers!” Vaanya said as she raised her glass. Laughter bubbled up as the six of us clinked glasses, toasting the end of the semester. The spring afternoon was blissfully warm, easing my worries, and the view from the rooftop restaurant was unmatched.
I loved the architecture of New Haven, and seeing it from a bird’s-eye view was a special privilege.
There was something to be said about the minuscule designs etched into each crevice, steeple, and gable.
It wasn’t about each building being massive and record-breaking. The devil was in the details.
Celebrating the end of the semester had become a long-standing tradition.
One that I wasn’t so sure was going to come together this time.
Thankfully, half of the group chat finally chimed in—after a little prodding from me—and offered their preferences of where they wanted to go for our celebratory lunch.
The six of us—Jake, Vaanya, Courtney, Marcus, Caitlin, and me—had met during our time as teaching fellows at Alcott.
We had initially bonded over being in the weird period of life where we were still students while our fellow graduates were going off into the “real world.” With their departure for greener pastures went the friendships that had formed in our first few years.
High school friends were long gone, now getting married and starting families or diving into their careers.
On top of that, many of our relatives didn’t quite understand why we would continue to chase degrees and sometimes grew distant or hostile.
It was trial by fire that had immediately forged us into a close-knit bunch.
But now, we were bona fide Alcott faculty.
Well, except for Jake. He and I had been in the running for the same teaching position.
I landed it and Jake took a position at a university in Storrs.
Our friendly academic rivalry had never come between us.
In fact, out of the six of us, Jake was probably my closest friend.
Even though he wasn’t on Alcott’s payroll, he still joined us for our end-of-semester celebrations. It was tradition.
Maybe that’s why the six of us had survived when so many relationships succumbed to the competition. At the heart of it, we were friends before we were colleagues. At least . . . that’s what it used to feel like. The traditions? Now they just felt like chores.
Marcus downed his drink and groaned. “The semester ends, you blink, and the summer sessions start.” He stared longingly at the ice. “One of these years I’m going to get a break.”
“It sucks that Dr. Eckersley went on sabbatical. I know you were gunning for a real vacation,” Caitlin said.
Marcus sighed. “Can’t all be as lucky as Hawthorne.”
I preened and sat a little taller in my chair. But as much as I wanted to enjoy my first summer off since I graduated high school, I couldn’t stop thinking about Joel.
Will I be able to win a hundred grand in less than a week?
Will they actually leave him alone if I clear his debt?
And what if I don’t?
The meager lunch I had choked down churned in my stomach.
Joel had, thankfully, agreed to go to the emergency room as soon as we left Atlantic City last night.
I had a feeling that the doctors and nurses hadn’t believed the lie he peddled about how he acquired a shattered kneecap.
Shot point-blank in the knee by a fastball in a batting cage?
Seriously? He couldn’t come up with anything better than that? Joel really was a terrible liar.
Honestly, I didn’t care. After the last thirty hours, I was just glad to get a little sleep while he had been in surgery. Even if that sleep had been while I was upright in a vinyl chair.
I had almost bailed on this lunch, but Joel had come out of surgery and was immediately being put through his paces by the hospital’s physical therapist. He had insisted I go out—whether it was because he knew I was exhausted or because he was feeling guilty, I didn’t know.
I glanced at my watch as I cupped my hand over my mouth to hide another yawn. I really needed to leave for Atlantic City. My first night at a blackjack table hadn’t gone too badly. I’d squirreled away nine thousand dollars and held on to one thousand to play with tonight.
I didn’t just need to win big tonight. I needed a fucking miracle.
And since miracles required time, I needed a full night at the blackjack table, not just a few hours. With how tired I was, I had packed a bag and planned to get a cheap hotel room before playing again tomorrow night.
Right now, nothing else mattered.
Once I got Joel his money, I was going to play one more epic round and then take myself on vacation somewhere warm and sunny.
From the seat beside me, Jake tipped his chin in my direction. “You alright?”
Thankfully, we had already paid the bill and were free to go. As much as I wanted to stick around and shoot the breeze, I needed a catnap before I made the drive . . . again.
“Just tired,” I said, forcing a smile. “Late night.”
He draped his arm across the back of my chair.
“Do you have plans after this? I was gonna hang around town for a little bit.” Jake cracked the familiar smile that had gotten both of us through late-night study sessions and frustrating months of dealing with egotistical professors and crushing workloads.
“I thought maybe . . . we could get a drink or something.”
I glanced at the table full of cocktail glasses. “We just had drinks.” Well, they did. I had a polite sip of one. I had to stay sober for tonight.
Jake blinked for a moment, then chuckled under his breath. “Or coffee?” His hand slid up from the back of my chair to my shoulders. His touch was gentle, and I’m sure to everyone else, he just looked like he was stretching.
But after all these years as friends, I knew better. Just like every other man or woman who had ever touched me in that appropriately flirtatious kind of way, I felt absolutely nothing.
“Or maybe we could go on a walk?” His hope was endearing.
“Why?” I blurted out. It probably sounded like I was appalled at the idea, but I was just exhausted and didn’t have the social aptitude to mask it.
But Jake didn’t mind. He was used to how I got when I was running on very little sleep.
“Because I missed you this semester.” Concern warped his eyebrows.
“And you’ve barely said anything since we got here.
I was hoping we could catch up. There’s .
. . something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about. ”
“Did I miss a text or something?”
“No.” The accompanying laugh was nervous.
“It’s not really the kind of thing you want to text someone.
” His thumb grazed down the slope of my shoulder, stroking back and forth as Vaanya, Courtney, Marcus, and Caitlin began to gather their bags and to-go boxes.
“Can we go somewhere quiet? Just the two of us?”
My stomach sank.
Jake was a sweet guy. He was smart, funny, and kind. But he had also just gotten out of a four-year relationship he thought was going to go all the way. Even if I had a shred of interest in exploring something romantic with him, I had no intention of being a rebound.
“I have a prior commitment,” I said with as much sympathy as I could muster, letting him down gently as I reached for my purse and slipped it onto my shoulder.
His shoulders slumped, clearly crestfallen. “Oh. Okay. No worries. Maybe another time.”
“Yeah,” I said as the six of us began to say our goodbyes. “I love getting together with everyone.”
“Everyone.” He forced a smile. “Right.” When we were the only two left who hadn’t hugged, I bit the bullet so the rest of the group didn’t think there was bad blood. It was so comfortable hugging Jake, like hugging my brother.
I just didn’t want to sleep with him.
But that certainly hadn’t been the thought that crossed my mind when the hot bouncer from the casino called me a good girl.
My spine zipped with excitement at the thought of him. Sure, the big scary dude had told me not to come back, but it was in a patronizing “you don’t belong around these parts, little lady” kind of way.
Right?
I just needed a few more nights of big wins, and then I’d be golden.
Honestly, if I wasn’t tethered between fear for my brother and anger at my brother, this would’ve been fun.
Sunday, May 18 | 6:42 p.m.
I took one last look in the gas station bathroom mirror and studied my reflection.
I had swapped my standard work wear of slacks and a blouse for something a little more daring.
And by daring, I meant a pair of tight jeans and a low-cut top in black silk that I had worn one time for my college roommate’s bachelorette party.
The heels on my feet were the worst life choice I had ever made—even more than trying to clear my brother’s debt to the mob by counting cards in Atlantic City.
I hobbled out of the bathroom like a newborn giraffe who’d landed on its head and was slowly getting back up to its feet, all while hoping I could find a parking spot close enough to the Four Horsemen that I wouldn’t have to walk in these deathtraps for long.
The old guy who had played with me the first night must have been a regular at the casino, because everyone waited on him hand and foot. He was ridiculously nice and made my first few games a little less scary.
Last night, I got my feet wet. Tonight, I was ready to dive in and win big.
The drive from the gas station to the Shore was, thankfully, short. I took it as a good sign when a parking spot only a block away opened up. I eased out from the driver’s side, wobbled a little, and shouldered the bag that held the thousand dollars I was going to play with.
I walked as quickly as I could, dodging summertime beachgoers, annoyed locals, and even more bachelorettes.
Why were there so many bachelorettes here? There were so many better destinations than New Jersey.