Jaime
JAIME
Dim sunlight filters in through the gauze layer over my window, and I snuggle deeper into the mass of pillows I’m nested in. I really should get up. It’s almost nine on a Wednesday morning, and I have shit to do. Well, kind of. I have around sixty-pages to read for my Rhetoric, Language and Political Communication module, and I need to meet up with Ellen, who I’ve been partnered with, to discuss our Communication Theory project.
Groaning, I stretch and try to muster enough enthusiasm to propel myself out of bed.
And I fail.
Instead, I allow my thoughts to wander. It had been such a shock to find Zak standing there on the sidewalk after my interview, almost as if the universe had conjured him for me. He’d looked gorgeous in black jeans, a thin mustard yellow sweater and a well-worn leather jacket. The look of concern on his handsome face when he saw me so close to losing my shit was almost enough to send me into his arms, consequences be damned. But not quite.
A loud buzzing fills the quiet morning air, and my heart leaps into my throat. Scrambling up from my pile of pillows, I locate the source and gape at the number on the screen. The phone vibrates again in my hands, and I almost drop it, swiping with trembling fingers to answer.
“Hello?”
“, hello. This is Brad Longstead at KBCX. Are you free to talk?”
Leaping to my feet, I straighten my sweats as though he can see me. “Yes. Of course. Good to hear from you, Mr. Longstead.”
“Please, call me Brad.”
Standing in the middle of my room, pacing a small circle, I send out a plea to the universe as I wait for him to continue.
“I was very impressed with you during your interview, . I’d like to offer you one of our intern positions.”
It takes everything I have not to squeal down the phone. Instead, I take a small breath and let it out as quietly as possible. “Thank you, Mr. Long—Brad. You won’t regret this.”
“I sincerely hope not.” He chuckles softly. “My assistant will be in touch with your schedule and induction information. Don’t let me down.”
I swallow hard. “I won’t. Thank you.”
The line goes dead, and I stay standing in the middle of the room, the phone pressed to my ear for a few seconds. I did it. I got the internship.
Excitement bubbles over and I squeal, tossing my phone onto the bed and breaking into a celebratory dance. It’s going to be a lot of pressure, juggling a part time job with my course and the responsibilities of being vice president of the Bees, but I’m more than up to the challenge.
When my phone buzzes again, I fall forward onto the bed and scoop it up, half expecting it to be the email from Brad’s assistant. It’s not.
ABI: Are you at the Hive? Have you seen Sasha?
My mood instantly drops as I type out my reply.
ME: Yeah. I’m here. I haven’t seen Sash. Y?
ABI: There’s another post. She’s not answering her phone...
I swear under my breath. If I ever get my hands on whoever stole her damn diary, I’ll make them regret the day they were born. No one upsets one of my sisters like this and walks away unscathed.
ME: Shit. I’ll check her room
Pushing back to my feet, I pad out of my room and next door to hers. The gold stars stuck to her door like it’s Hollywood always make me smile, and I knock loudly.
“Sash?” I call. “You in there?”
There’s no answer, so I grab my keys. Both Sasha and I have keys to each other’s rooms for emergencies, and I knock one more time before unlocking the door.
“Hello? Sasha?”
It’s dark inside, the curtains drawn, and I walk over and poke the pillows to make sure she’s definitely not here before leaving and locking the door behind me.
ME: She’s not here
Abi reads the text but doesn’t reply, so I lie back down, my phone loose in my hand. It’s only as I’m lying there, I realize Abi never asked me how my interview went. Neither did Sasha. I spoke to them both the morning of, so they knew I was going.
In all fairness, Sasha has a lot of shit going on right now. Abi, however, has nothing but her course load as far as I know.
I slump down on my bed, the high of getting the internship quickly evaporating. How is it that I have no one to share this excitement with? My parents don’t even know I applied, so there’s no point calling them. The only other person that knows is . . .
My heart racing, I unlock my phone and swipe through my contacts until I find what I’m looking for. It takes me a minute because I forgot what I saved his contact under. Grinning, I type out a message.
ME: I got the internship
As soon as I press send, I contemplate deleting it before he sees. Honestly, I’m shocked Zak hasn’t used my number beyond that first text. When I gave it to him, I expected to regret it almost instantly.
My phone jolts in my hand, and I smile as a second message joins my lonely first.
MOUSE: Congrats, Kitty Cat! Never doubted you for a second
Closing my eyes, I smile to myself. In another life, I knew I’d have been happy with Zak. I can picture it vividly. My hand in his as we stroll through the common. Hanging out at parties and losing myself in his warm laugh and deep brown eyes. It would have been nice. Easy. Whether it would have matured past college, I don’t know. But it’s not worth wasting a brain cell on.
When my phone vibrates again, I assume it must be a message from Abi, or even Zak, and it takes a second to realize it’s ringing.
A frown forms on my face as I stare at my mom’s name on the caller ID before answering. “Hey, Mom.”
“Pack a bag, honey. A car’s on its way.”
I blink, then push up to sitting. “Erm. Hi. What are you talking about?”
Mom makes a frustrated noise as though it’s my fault she’s talking in riddles. “The Chevaliers. They’re coming over for dinner tonight. You have to be here.”
My mouth falls open. “I have class tomorrow, Mom. Did you forget I’m at college? I can’t just leave.”
“You can and you will.”
The finality in my mother’s tone cuts me down at the knees, making me feel like a middle schooler instead of the almost twenty-two-year-old woman I am.
“Can’t we just have dinner on the weekend?” I ask, trying not to sound like I’m pleading. If I had it my way, there would be no dinner. Ever.
She huffs again. “No. They’re coming tonight and so are you. It’s been six years, . They want to see you. He wants to see you.”
My stomach rolls. Six years is a long time, but it’s also nowhere near long enough. Nowhere near.
“A car will be with you in half an hour. No need to pack your outfit for tonight. I’ll have something here for you.”
I swallow around the lump in my throat. For a car to be here so soon, it’s clear that informing me was more of an afterthought than a courtesy.
“Love you, bye!” She disconnects the call before I can say a word.
It takes me a minute, the phone still to my ear, before I finally let my hand fall to my side.
Even though I knew it was only a matter of time before he showed up and turned my life upside down, I didn’t expect it to be so soon.
This was going to be my year, but I should have known better.