Chapter 34
WILLOW
I openmy door and the biggest blue eyes I’ve ever seen stare right back at me. The blondest hair. The bright cheeks. The biggest smile. Her hair pulled back in a perfect ponytail using some kind of thin ribbon with Puckford Pirates printed in small text over and over on it.
She’s in a size-too-small t-shirt with the Puckford Pirates logo on it.
Her boobs are so perfectly perky, ready to bounce free from her shirt and make the world such a happy place!
The bottom of her shirt ends just a sliver too soon - on purpose, of course - showing off the very faint hint of her belly button piercing.
That, I assume, is the best icebreaker for any guy out there.
See a piercing, ask about it…
She smells like the top of the cheerleader pyramid and she looks like she’s bathed in coffee for days to absorb all the caffeine, but I have a feeling she’s just this happy all the time.
Ra-ra-give-me-a-fucking-break.
“You must be Willow,” she says.
“And you must be Danielle,” I say.
I welcome her into my dorm and point to the table where I’m going to attempt to tutor her.
She’s a business major with no knowledge of business.
I mean, it happens. A lot.
Sometimes we’re forced to choose a class or a major and things go a little sideways. I would never judge someone on needing help. Ever.
Plus… this stuff keeps me in good standing with the university. And it throws some money into my pockets.
“Can I get you something to drink?” I offer.
“I brought my own water,” Danielle says. “I only drink water from the Alps. Or from Fiji.”
“Showering must be a bitch then,” I say.
Danielle tilts her head. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing,” I say. “Bad joke. Um, we should get started then. You were having a little bit of trouble in your accounting class…”
“Oh, yes,” Danielle says.
She reaches into her bag and brings out her laptop.
It’s hot pink. It has cheerleading stickers all over it. It has custom stickers of her and her friends.
“I’m really not into business stuff,” she says. “But I want to be involved. Can I tell you what my dream is?”
“Go for it,” I say.
“I want to help animals who have no help,” she says. “Ever see an injured dog on the side of the road?”
“Can’t say that I have.”
“Well, just pretend, okay? I want to work with people who help with that stuff.”
“You should be a veterinarian then,” I say.
“And touch dirty animals? No thanks.”
“Oh,” I say.
“I want to run the organizations and all that.”
“Okay,” I say. “So you are more or less looking at the non-profit side of things.”
“Does non-profit mean poor?” Danielle asks. “I will never be poor. I will find some guy in his nineties and marry him if it gets me money.”
“Okay,” I say for what feels like the millionth time. “Let’s take all of that and condense it down. Maybe this accounting stuff isn’t exactly fun, but you need it for everything you just said. Even your backup plan. And I mean it. Let’s say you marry Winston Horatio Alpine…”
“Is that a real person?”
“No. I just made him up.”
“Sounds real. Is he rich?”
“Very,” I say. “Five hundred million dollars.”
Daniele’s eyes light up.
“The thing is, Danielle, you need to know where that’s coming from. Okay? You need to know how much cash is on hand. How much is in equity. More importantly, you need to know the liquidity.”
“Liquid…? Like water?”
“Not exactly,” I say. Oh, my patience is wearing thin with this one. I feel like hell right now, Danielle. My stomach won’t settle. And guess what? My boobs are hurting right now. They feel like someone is squeezing them over and over… and I suddenly have an urge for two things. Want to know what they are? I want another chocolate glazed donut with sprinkles. And I want Knox to go down on me. “Liquidity is how fast you can convert something into cash. That’s a basic way of saying it I guess. Like, for example, let’s say Winston has a car collection worth twenty million. You can’t just make that money appear, right? You would have to sell each car one at a time. You might have to pay someone to help. Then there are taxes, fees, all that. Now imagine Winston has a secret safe built behind a bookshelf. And it’s just money. Cash. Twenty million. See the difference?”
“Yes,” Danielle says. “I think I do. I think you’re a genius at this. Keep going.”
“Okay, sure. Let’s look at your actual work though. Tie it all together. My understanding is you were worried,” - meaning you keep fucking up - “the classification of assets versus liabilities and making things balance out.”
Danielle turns on her laptop, types in a way too long password, and the screen loads, showing off accounting work.
It’s interesting to me how smooth this all goes on my end. I remind myself that I worked for my father’s construction company from the time I could walk. I was managing books and invoices and calling for payments before I turned ten.
Something about the precious voice of a nine-year-old girl asking someone to pay their invoice… it just worked…
“Let’s start with completely understanding what an asset is and what a liability is.”
I reach for Danielle’s laptop and she grabs my hands. “No. Wait.”
“What?”
Now we’re looking at each other.
“I have to know,” she says. “Are you really pregnant?”
Oh…
“Yes,” I say.
“What? Really? Like… for real?”
“Yes,” I repeat.
“And everything is… I mean… you’re okay with all that?”
“Okay with it?” I ask. “I mean, it’s not like ordering a dress online, trying it on and deciding if I want it or not.”
“That’s so scary. I mean, just thinking about it, gives me chills. Like that can be anyone, you know? Like, birth control is not completely effective. And some of these guys just refuse to wear a condom, you know?”
Oh, sweetheart, if a guy won’t wrap his dick up, then don’t open your legs.
Sound advice from the person who let a guy inside her without a condom and… well… you know…
“You’re going to have a baby,” Danielle says. “You’re only in college! What about your life? What about traveling? What about meeting some random guys and having some random fun?”
“I guess my life is over,” I say.
“I didn’t mean that!” Danielle cries out. “Oh, Willow, don’t ever say that!”
“You’re right, it’s too late for me. It’s over. What am I even doing here?”
I shut Danielle’s laptop and stand up.
Danielle stands up too. “Willow?”
“You should go,” I say.
“Did I say something wrong?”
“It’s just a lot, you know? And right now, the worst part of this? The morning sickness. That lingers. All day. Vomiting ten times a day. And each time I vomit, I pee a little. Can you believe that?”
Danielle stares at me with a horrific look on her face.
I make a fake gurgling noise and grab my stomach.
Danielle yelps, then grabs her laptop and her bag.
“Willow, thank you for your help,” she says as she runs toward the door. “You actually did help me. With that Winston story. I think I’ve got this now. I can do this. Um, good luck with everything.”
Just like that, Danielle is gone.
I lift both middle fingers and hold my hands out at the door.
I curl my lip. I swallow hard.
Do you really think I need some ditzy cheerleader to point out all the things I won’t be able to do with my life because I’m pregnant? Do you really think I haven’t gone over that list fifty times a day?
I hope for Danielle’s sake she does find herself a Winston.
I don’t have that.
I have a Knox.
A way-too-sexy goalie who thus far claims he’s all in on this pregnancy with me.
See, that’s the hardest part of it all for me right now…
I have no control over anything.
No control over my body.
No control over Knox.
Right on cue, my stomach rumbles.
Whether it’s me or the baby…
… I better get a chocolate glazed donut with sprinkles soon or else I’m going to start setting things on fire around here…