Chapter 22 Malena
Malena
Iwas never going to get what I wanted. Not when what my parents wanted always came first.
I let out a sigh and spoke into my burner phone’s mouthpiece. “I’m busy today—”
“Malena, it’s a quick lunch. Naina Auntie and her family are coming over,” my mom interrupted. “Her daughter is your age.”
The phone call rained on the perfectly productive morning I was having the day after the scavenger hunt, where I’d set myself up to work in the middle of the Scroll he excused my mom when she acted the way she did, but it was still nice to hear his voice. “I have to study, and I need some time to relax after. Okay?”
“You can’t do that at home?” he negotiated in a soft, tired voice.
“Do you know what people will say?” my mom’s voice erupted in the background. “She doesn’t come home even though she’s close by. Doesn’t make an effort with family friends. They’ll think she’s…” The rest got lost in a mumble.
“I’m staying. I need to study today,” I answered firmly. I was allowed to do so little; I wasn’t going to budge on my peace today. “Sabrina is visiting for fall break, and we’re planning to spend the week on campus together.”
The truth was, Sabrina wouldn’t be back until the end of the semester and Cora had her trip to Vermont. I didn’t want to be alone, but I had a stack of books I wanted to read, and it would be quiet. That was always better than going back to the chaos at home.
“Okay,” my dad conceded with a long sigh. “You stay at school.”
My mom let out a frustrated huff. “Weeks without visiting her family. I’ll be happy when the semester is over and she returns.”
The line clicked off and a reminder reverberated in my head.
I’d only be this distant from their expectations while at Winchester.
Once I hit the “med school milestone,” their expectations would recalibrate.
I saw Avani go through them all. In childhood, she was compliant and never talked back.
As an adolescent, she befriended everyone my parents told her to and fit in with ease.
As a college student, she eventually got into med school.
And then, she dated who they liked. Hell, she’d probably marry him.
I was expected to do the same. The two Malenas had to fuse into one if I was going to keep them at bay.
In my mind, I hoped it would be smooth, like a zipper coming together. But the more those two parts diverged, the more I was sure that it would be like an earthquake. The kind that lifted mountains in its path of destruction.
The real me on one side. The one I had to be on the other.
The sound of a throat clearing pulled me from the paralyzing reminder.
I looked up and found Conrad shifting awkwardly a few feet away. His navy crew neck sweater was speckled with the multicolored light being bottlenecked through the mausoleum’s stained-glass windows. “You okay?”
“Oh… hi.” I put my phone down and tried to reset from that conversation. I looked back up at him and a few lines appeared on his forehead. “Depends, how much did you hear?”
“Nothing.” Conrad took a seat in the high-backed velvet upholstered chair across from me. “Just a lot of huffing and puffing.”
“I’m fine.” I swallowed the heavy reality I’d just been contemplating and pressed my palms against the soft leather tuxedo sofa I sat on.
I looked around at the vacant couches interspersed with end tables.
I’d chosen a spot in the middle of the room, where the four seats surrounded a single mahogany coffee table. “Is it always like this?”
Conrad shrugged. “I guess members found something else to do this semester.”
“Except you?”
“I, uhhh…” He rubbed the back of his neck, then pulled a couple of books out from his backpack. “Monetary Policy’s midterm is a few days before fall break and I can’t really skate by on this one.”
“Oh no.” I leaned forward and smacked a dramatic hand on my chest, thankful for the distraction. “Is Conrad Hastings going to have to study?”
“I am.” His words carried a playful indignation that made my stomach tumble. “And I’ll have you know that I could be solving the campus mystery right now. Instead, I’m here.”
“With me, studying,” I drawled. “Tragic.”
The weight of his gaze pushed the unwelcome shadows to the back of my mind. He leaned forward, his elbows braced on either leg and his arms folded lazily over his lap. “I guess it could be worse.”
The chemistry that we both knew was there bubbled quietly in the background, getting louder with every second.
I reveled in the way his voice put me at ease. It was like a blissful state of drowning and I never wanted to come up for air. “It might ruin that carefree reputation.”
He gave me a nonchalant shrug, but a smile crept through. “I’ll take my chances.”
His eyes moved from mine and down to the lists of names from the university archives. He looked back to me and picked up the papers.
“Looking for Van Holdens at Winchester?” Fascination colored his face. It was adorable; the unambitious Conrad Hastings was invested in this.
And that did something completely unfamiliar to me. Something I wasn’t sure I was ready to face.
“It’s a dead end.” I sighed. The school records were well kept and no Van Holdens came up. And while I hadn’t yet searched for a family tree, I was beginning to think it was best to put this caper to bed and go with my original feature idea. The myth of meritocracy was a good angle. “Another one.”
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out to read the forwarded texts.
Mom: You need to come home a day early for Thanksgiving break next month
Mom: We are making food and Pinky Auntie is coming over.
Mom: No excuses or I will have Dad get you.
Like the walls were closing in, I had to find an exit. A way back to what I could rely on: two Malenas. Neither life was so completely perfect that I would fall apart without it.
“Maybe there’s no connection to him. Maybe it’s random that he’s the artist this person chose to imitate,” Conrad theorized. He tapped his pen along the edge of the table. He stood and rounded it, taking a seat next to me with his entire focus on the lists.
“We don’t even know if that’s what they’re doing.” I pushed my burner back in my bag, then shifted in my seat with a hard swallow.
“No, but we have a lot of different leads. Something is bound to stand out.”
“I think we’re stuck,” I announced louder than I expected to. He looked up from the papers, bewildered. “And I need to get moving with the submission.”
I reminded myself why I was doing all of this in the first place.
A path to writing later, when I could. And my own money—a way to stem the tide.
Because the second I was wholly financially dependent on my parents would be the same one that college-Malena disappeared. And I wasn’t ready to let her go.
But the system didn’t account for this.
It was the feeling that’d first surfaced in the tight study cubical. And now, it glared directly in my eyes, making it impossible to ignore. The feeling of getting wound tighter and tighter, binding me to something. And someone.
“We still have weeks,” he rightly pointed out.
Yes, the feature wasn’t due until December. But, I had what I needed. Like all things I experienced here, this had to end. And staring into those crystalline eyes made me want to prolong it. It made me want to search for an answer when there probably wasn’t one.
“I have what I need for the article,” I went on. “I’m spending fall break on campus. I’ll write it then.” I closed the folder and grabbed the few notebooks I brought along with me, stacking them neatly.
“We haven’t figured anything out.”
“It’s a feature.” My tone jumped an octave. I dodged his gaze but managed to catch the disappointment. Seeing that light—the excitement that’d been like looking at the sun only a few seconds ago—dim a bit… It hurt. “The first idea I had, before we found out about the rest. It was solid.”
“Yeah, but the unsealed door, the paintings.” Confusion laced through his words. “That’s definitely better.”
I stood and shouldered my bag. “We can’t wait on something that may never work itself out. I can’t lose the good in search of the perfect.”
“I can help—”
“No need,” I interrupted. An ache swelled in my chest and I had to get the hell out of here. “I promised you a read before it goes out, and I’ll honor that. Besides, you’ve got those races, right? The regatta?”
“Yeah…” He scrambled to stand, almost stumbling as he moved to follow me. “I’ll drive you back.”
My phone vibrated with another text message against the books in my bag.
“It’s a nice day, I’ll walk.” I took another step back. “The article was easier than expected, see? Not so bad.”
I should have slept with him and moved along. I wouldn’t be feeling this way if I had. Instead, I ambled around in his life, getting to know it and understand it. And him.
“No, it wasn’t,” he said, so quiet it was almost a whisper.
“I’ll keep Sabrina’s key safe and give it to her the next time I see her.”
He nodded and I turned on my heels.
“See ya around, Malena,” he called as I made my way down the corridor toward the exit.
Disappointment became cement in my lungs.
Stupidly, I’d let myself get used to him calling me Holmes.