Chapter 7
SEVEN
jade
I’m late meeting Lenni at the new tapas restaurant a few blocks off campus.
“Sorry,” I tell her as I dump my bag on an empty chair and plop down across from her.
She casts a confused look at my white collared shirt and black tie. “Were you at work?”
“Just filling in for someone for half a shift. My savings account has a long way to go before Spain is in my clutches.”
“I ordered for us.” Lenni nods at the glass of red wine in front of me. “So how’s the new recruit?”
“You mean King Reeve? You can imagine. He’s as arrogant serving customers as he is strutting around the football field.”
“Sounds about right.”
“I don’t get why he’s working there. Can’t college athletes get endorsement deals? I can’t imagine Reeve loving anything more than having his photo splashed all over billboards across the Midwest.”
“Not in this state. Cam says it’s only a matter of time, but for now I guess waiting tables is as good as it gets.”
“You know, I can’t believe Cam and Reeve are best friends,” I say as our waiter drops a platter of bread and some peppery-looking dip onto the table. “Reeve is unbearable. He just never stops.”
“Opposites attract. Look at you and me.”
“You best not be comparing me to Reeve Dalton.”
“Right, because you don’t love attention or anything,” she says with a smile.
“How dare you!” I tear off a chunk of bread and toss it in her direction. “At least I’m not a complete asshole.”
Lenni’s smile does a slow fade into seriousness; then she bites her lip.
“What?” I ask, a piece of bread halfway to my lips.
“You know, you don’t have to hate him for me anymore. He apologized a long time ago. We’re okay now.”
“I don’t have to forgive him either. Besides, he gives me more reasons to hate him every time we’re together.”
She shrugs and reaches for her wine.
“Hold on there.” I lift my glass toward hers. “Cheers. To Spain.”
“Cheers. To your new life as the mouthiest American Spain has ever seen.” Lenni has this way of smiling when she’s not sure how much of what she’s saying is truth and how much is a joke.
I pause. “It’s going to happen, you know.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And you’re not going to worry about me.”
“Not all the time.”
“And we’ll still be best friends.”
She nods. “We’ll still be best friends.”
We smile at each other and drink. Not for the first time, I have to stop myself from moving our conversation where I really want to take it: figuring out when we’ll visit each other next year.
Lenni hasn’t said it, but I know that when she’s in grad school, whatever vacation time she has will be spent with Cam.
And that’s how it should be. I’ll love Cam Forrester until the day I die for all the ways he’s made Lenni happy and breathed life back into the hurt parts of her, but I’m still learning to deal with the changes that came with her falling in love.
If Cam wasn’t around, we’d be sitting across from each other scheming about where and when we’ll meet up, comparing academic calendars for the programs we haven’t even applied to yet, contemplating the kind of men we’ll find in Spain to buy us free drinks—okay, that last part would probably just be me.
Once or twice I’ve even wondered if I’d be going to Spain at all if Lenni was single.
Spain was one of many fleeting ideas born in the wake of my breakup with Sam.
As long as Lenni’s grad school was far, far away from Sam’s, I could have just as easily scraped together a loose plan to follow her wherever she went.
Before Cam, we always used to talk about living out our early postcollege years together in a modern, beautifully decorated grown-up apartment in an unnamed city.
It was totally naive, but I wish we still talked like that.
I know why the Spain idea, out of all of them, was the one to take root: It’s the one that will take me the farthest away from everything and everyone I know.
It’s completely exhilarating to think about starting life where I know nobody and where the people I know are half a world away and useless to me.
I love the idea of not needing anyone. But I still miss the days when my best friend needed me.
“So, where’s Cam’s head at lately with the draft?”
Lenni sighs like she’s both exhausted and relieved that we’re moving on to this topic.
Cam’s indecision about whether to try to play pro football or to find a career outside of sports keeps both of them up at night.
“All over the place,” she says wearily. “And he seems to think I have the right answer.”
“If he doesn’t know what he wants, why would you?”
“Oh, I know exactly what I want. I want him to leave football behind and get a regular old job close to where I go to school so I can see my boyfriend more than once a month. And so I don’t have to worry he’s going to suffer a traumatic injury every week.”
Our waiter drops three appetizer-size dishes at our table—cheese-stuffed peppers, sautéed artichokes, and crisp, golden croquetas.
“Jeez, you want to tone down the expectations a little bit?” I tease. “Who do you think you are?”
“But it is a lot to ask. He’s worked his whole life for a football career.”
“But you’re not asking him. You have an opinion and I’m willing to bet you haven’t even shared it with him, have you?”
She sighs. “I have. I told him that’s what I’d love in an ideal world, but he knows it’s not what I expect. I don’t want him to have regrets, and I definitely don’t want to be the reason for those regrets.”
“That’s his problem.” I pop a pepper into my mouth.
Lenni smiles but gives a disapproving shake of her head. “Cam’s not selfish. I don’t have to worry about him making decisions without considering me. I have to worry about him making them without considering himself.”
“Guess someone needs to work on himself.” I wink. “Okay, but seriously, what else can you do but be honest about what you want and then step back and let him make his choices?”
“I’m trying to, but what I want from him is . . . a lot. And I have to make choices too. Compromise goes both ways, right?”
“Let’s be real, compromise fucking sucks. But you’re allowed to have needs, Lenni. And you have to take care of yourself because—” I stop myself and look at her.
She raises her eyebrows expectantly. “Do go on, wise one. You know how much I love your views on the futility of love.”
“Well, if you insist. You have to take care of yourself because you never know what’s going to happen to your relationships.”
Lenni paints an exaggerated, dreamy smile on her lips. “I just love when you spread cheer and hopefulness to the masses.”
“Yeah, you’re welcome.”
“Another bottle, ladies?” our waiter asks when he passes by.
I shake my head. “Better not.” When he walks away, I turn back to Lenni. “We really need to start drinking before we go out to dinner, so we can save some cash.”
“How much more do you need to save for Spain?”
“Depends on the program: either a lot or a metric shit ton. I wasn’t that stressed when I thought I might get the server job, but then Mr. Saturday Afternoon walks into the restaurant and there goes that idea.”
“If nothing else, he’ll probably make your shifts better. He’s pretty fun to be around.”
“No, he’s not.” Great, now he even has my best friend wrapped up in his charms. “He thinks the world revolves around him. And that it’s impossible that any girl might not be interested in him.”
“And yet here we are, talking about him again.”
“You brought him up.”
“Not this time.” She gives me a knowing smile. “You did.”
“Don’t even.”
“What’s that line from Shakespeare? The lady doth protest too much?”
“What?” I screech, indignant. “I am not into him.”
Lenni laughs loud enough to turn heads.
“I’m not! I’d sooner find my next hookup in a nursing home than give some arrogant jock a shot. And Reeve’s the last man on earth who could make me change my mind.”
“Uh-huh. So you’re not attracted to him at all?” She’s still chuckling.
“Ugh.”
“You don’t think he’s sexy?”
“I have eyes, Lenni. Yes, he’s hot.” I keep it to myself that he’s literally the hottest man I’ve ever seen. I keep seeing his smile in my head and those dimples that I somehow never noticed despite how incredible they are.
“Now we’re getting somewhere. So would you sleep with him?”
“Would he have tape over his mouth?” I’m being sarcastic, but Lenni nods earnestly.
“Yes. If he had tape over his mouth and you could wipe his memory clean afterward, would you do it?”
I cut a croqueta into tiny pieces on my plate. “I’m going to tell Cam Spanish wine makes you horny.”
“You’d do it, wouldn’t you?”
For a second I let myself imagine it. His hard body pressed against mine, the rhythmic flex of his muscles, his perfect face for once not completely in control . . .
“Not a chance,” I tell Lenni. “There’s no room in my plans for a man.”
“Come on, Jade. You can have a relationship your last year of college and still do everything you plan to do in Spain.”
“A relationship? Now I know you’re drunk.”
“Well, maybe not with Reeve, but you can’t let what Sam did to you scare you off relationships for good.”
“Sam wishes he had that power.” I shake my head. “No, Sam didn’t scare me off relationships. He only reminded me of what my dad taught me years ago.”
“What? Love doesn’t last?” she says with drunken sarcasm. Lenni is well acquainted with my mantra.
“That’s right.”
“What about me and Cam?”
I look at Lenni’s pretty face, happiness written into every line and curve.
I never thought I’d be jealous of her, simply because we were so different: different personalities, different goals, different ideas of what makes life worthwhile.
But ever since Cam came into the picture, things have clicked into place for her.
I look down at my plate. “What you guys have is beautiful.” And it is; Cam and Lenni can make a girl question her doubts. But their relationship is young, and I’ve seen what time does to even the strongest bonds.
For once I want to be wrong.
I walk out of my adviser’s office the next afternoon feeling the same way I do every time: stressed, anxious, determined.
Mark managed to find an art program that looks cool and is more affordable than the others.
But most of the classes are in Spanish, meaning there’s a Spanish proficiency test required—one I’m not even close to being able to pass.
I’m working my ass off in my current Spanish class, straddling the line between a high C and a low B and still not considered an intermediate speaker, which is where I need to be to qualify.
Mark gave me a list of resources to bump up my skills—language apps, private tutors, free classes through the library, blah, blah, blah.
I’ll do all of it if I need to. I just need to find the time, which is a huge ask.
I have to apply to multiple programs to increase my odds of getting in.
That means I need to make way more money and get way better at Spanish.
On my way home I check my savings account. “Shit,” I say out loud. The number shouldn’t be this low. I check my deposits, but everything is as it should be. I’m just not making enough.
All summer long I worked my ass off and survived on ramen noodles, frozen veggies, and whatever freebies the restaurant gave me. But I’m not working enough hours anymore. Without tips to rely on, hostessing isn’t going to cut it. That’s clear.
When I show up early to work that evening, Cecily already knows what’s up. I can see it in her scowl.
“Yes?” she asks shortly when I close the office door behind me.
“Can I talk to you? It won’t take long.”
“No, I’m sure it won’t if you’re here to ask me the same question you always do.” She gestures toward the folding chair against the wall. “So?”
“You know me too well,” I say sweetly, sitting as directed and ignoring the cold metal under my thighs. “The thing is, I really like this job, but I’ve realized that with my hourly wage, it’s not going to be enough for the program I hope to get into next fall.”
Cecily looks bored.
“I have server experience, and at this point I’ve had months to watch how the waitstaff here operates and what the clientele expects. I can do it. There’s no question about it.”
My confidence seems to shake her out of boredom and into irritation. “Okay, okay.” She puts up a hand to stop me from saying any more. “I get it already. You want to be a server? You got it.”
I blink. “Really? Just like that?”
“Eh. We’ve got the holiday season coming up, so I was looking to make another hire soon. And I’ve already got plenty of applications for hostess.”
“Wow. Cecily, thank you!”
“You’ll need to train.”
I smile politely. “I’ve worked as a server.”
She matches my smile with her own mocking version. “Not here you didn’t. That was casual dining, and we have different standards. Somerset Grill is one of the nicest restaurants in town.”
Which isn’t saying much. “Okay, sure. I can come in for a training shift any night.”
“Not one, a few. We’ll see how you do.” She leans over the desk, scanning the sheet where everyone’s shift is written down.
“Not Phoebe; too lazy,” she mutters to no one in particular.
“Jorge could teach you a thing or two about Tuesday nights, but what we need is Thursday and weekend servers.” She taps her finger on the paper.
“Here we go. You come in Sunday night. I’ll put you with Reeve. ”
I stare at her.
“The new guy,” she prompts me. “You said you knew him?”
I swallow hard and nod. “Reeve. Yes, I know him.”
“He’s good. Very cool under pressure, which you’ll need if you want to work weekend shifts during the holidays.” She gives a harsh laugh.
No. No. No. I rack my brain trying to think of something that could possibly get me out of this, but there’s nothing, not if I want this server job I so desperately need. One wrong word and I’m sure Cecily would love to snatch back the offer and banish me to the hostess station for good.
“Sunday,” I say tonelessly.
“That’s right. Come prepared to listen more than you talk, okay? I know that’s not your strong suit.”
“That won’t be a problem.” I have nothing to say to Reeve Dalton.