8. Sunny #2
I put down the phone and massage my temples.
I feel a headache coming on. I open my poli sci book, but I can’t concentrate at all.
After about fifteen minutes, I give up and head to the student lounge to read.
I’m disheartened that it’s empty—the sight of diligent students always kicks me into high gear.
Half an hour later, I feel like I’m going to jump out of my skin.
Luckily, that’s exactly when another student walks into the room.
I give her a little smile and she whispers, “Hey,” breathlessly as she plops her things onto the table across from me.
She’s wearing a cropped tank top and a long flowy skirt with sandals.
She has a nose stud, and her hair is up in double buns with pretty wisps framing her face.
I don’t know why, but my first thought is how different her style is from Mia’s, which is mostly Abercrombie, with the occasional purchase from Gap.
The only similarity they share is the shade of their hair, a very dark brown that’s nearly black.
I watch as my unwitting study buddy sits and swings her legs onto the chair facing hers.
She reaches for one of the books in her stack.
Nietzsche, by the looks of it. This is good.
She seems very focused, and I’m hoping her studiousness will rub off on me.
With renewed energy, I turn back to my poli sci book.
But a few minutes later, she breaks the silence .
“So,” she says, waiting for me to look up. “What’s your story?”
I tilt my head. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve seen you around. I feel like you have an intense aura about you,” she says, squinting as if to bring my aura into better focus.
“You could say that, yeah,” I admit with a wry laugh.
She raises her eyebrows and leans forward onto her elbows with a smile, as if to say, “Tell me more.”
“It’s just…there’s this guy I can’t stop thinking about,” I blurt out.
The truth is, I’ve been dying to talk to someone about my undefined relationship with Dex.
I obviously can’t ask Mia for advice—she’d never understand.
Her relationship with Evan has always been so easy and uncomplicated.
And frankly, she’d be appalled if she knew I was too scared to have a mature conversation with Dex about where I stand.
I know exactly what Mia would say: “Sunny, are you kidding me? Put on your big-girl pants and do it already!” I can hear her voice clear as day in my head.
I’ve kept my Northwestern friends in the dark as well. As far as they’re concerned, Dex is my boyfriend. At a certain point, I caved and started referring to him as such because it was easier to lie than admit I have no clue if we’re in a committed relationship.
But keeping up this charade is driving me insane. I’ve been so distracted this school year, and I know it’s because I’ve kept my concerns about Dex to myself instead of confiding in my friends. And now, it would seem, I’m at a breaking point.
So I tell this stranger everything . The unfiltered truth. And it feels so good, being completely honest for once. Like a huge weight has lifted off me.
“So, let me get this straight,” she says, her brow furrowed.
“You’re in a de facto long-distance relationship with a guy who may or may not be your boyfriend, but you’re too afraid to ask because you’ve been in love with him your entire life, and you don’t want to risk losing him forever if he doesn’t feel the same way about you? ”
I wince. “Pretty much.”
She nods in silence for several seconds. “I bet he’s really hot. Am I right?”
I groan. “So ridiculously hot. How did you guess?”
“I’ve found from personal experience that there’s a positive correlation between how hot the guy is and how cloudy my judgment gets.”
I laugh. “Sounds about right. I did try, once…to tell him I love him. It was our senior year of high school, and I wrote him this letter, and I was on my way to give it to him when I found him kissing someone else. The prettiest, most popular girl in school. And it devastated me. And that was before I’d ever slept with him.
And now…” I trail off, wiping tears from my eyes.
My new friend gets up and gives me a hug, then sits in the chair right next to me.
“It must be hard meeting the love of your life when you’re a kid.
I mean, you’ve loved him for years, but you’re only twenty, and you still have to get through school, and start your career, and figure out who you are. And so does he?—”
“There are so many moving parts.” I sigh. “It feels like the odds are stacked against us.”
“That’s why you want to hold onto him as long as you can,” she says, reading my mind.
I nod, grateful that she understands. This new friend, whose name I don’t even know. “I’m Sunny, by the way,” I say between sniffles.
She smiles. “Samira. But everyone calls me Sam.”
“Thanks for listening, Sam.”
She sits forward in her chair to give me another hug, then leans back again. “Okay,” she says emphatically, slapping the table with her palms. “I have to see a picture of this gorgeous guy.”
I let out a much-needed giggle. “I have a bunch in my room. It’s just a few doors down.” I guess poli sci will have to wait until tomorrow. I need this more.
Sam glances down at her open book, then slams it shut. “Fuck it,” she says. “Let’s go—it’s not like I was going to read this anyway.”
We pack up our things and head to my room.
I motion for Sam to take a seat on my bed, then pull a photo album from my bookshelf and find my favorite picture of me and Dex.
Ben took it last summer. He was in town with his girlfriend, now fiancée, and the four of us had gone to the beach together.
Dex and I are standing in front of the water, our toes in the sand.
He’s shirtless, wearing navy board shorts.
He has his arm around my waist, and I’m looking up at him and laughing.
It’s windy and I have to hold back my long hair, but my curls look beautiful floating behind me.
I’m wearing a pink two-piece with strings that tie around my back and behind my neck. I love that swimsuit .
Dex loves taking it off.
“Okay, here,” I say, removing the picture from its plastic sleeve and handing it over to Sam.
Her eyes widen instantly. “Holy fucking shit, are you serious? He looks like a goddamn supermodel! No wonder you can’t stop thinking about him!”
I nod, my face suddenly hot as hell. I’m used to this reaction—Dex turns heads wherever we go. I just can’t help but feel like there’s an implication behind it. Like, how did someone like you manage to snag someone like him ?
As if reading my mind again, Sam continues.
“I mean, you’re gorgeous too, so it’s no surprise he likes you. You guys look really good together.”
“Thanks,” I say, still embarrassed. Sam hands me back the photo and I take another look at myself in it.
I look happy, I know that. But gorgeous?
The only time I feel gorgeous is when Dex is looking at me.
If only I could see what he sees. I guess growing up alongside him wasn’t exactly great for my self-esteem.
He got so much attention that I felt mostly invisible.
It’s like he’s divine, and the rest of us, merely human.
I think Sam can tell that my mind is spinning, so she switches gears to lighten the mood. “So, tell me about the sex,” she says, laughing.
“How much time have you got?” I joke as I plop down beside her on the bed.
It’s funny that I can speak so freely with someone I only just met.