Chapter 21 #2
She sighed. “The last relationship I was in. It’s been over for a long time, but I guess I’m still not over him.” She took a breath to steady herself. “And that makes me question you. Doubt you, even when you don’t give me any reason to. I’m sorry. I—I thought I was ready.”
He didn’t quite laugh. “Well, that explains everything. I can’t compete with a ghost.” He stood up, paced around for a minute or two.
“Fine. Let’s just call it a day, then. But just so you know, you’re still going to be editor-in-chief next year.
And I’m still going to be working you like a dog so you’re ready for the job come September.
You’re not getting out of it by breaking up with me. ”
So she was wrong all along. He wasn’t pressuring her, or using the editor job as bait, or anything else she’d feared.
But she was also right. She wasn’t ready, and she had no idea if she’d ever be.
Daniel , February 28
“Still no word?”
Valerie stood in front of Daniel’s desk in the lab.
“What gave it away?” At least he was able to manage a smile, even if it was half-hearted.
Before she could answer him, the phone rang. Which was weird, because nobody ever called the lab phone. “Hello, Mac Lab.”
It was Jack McKenzie from the dorm. Daniel didn’t really know him well, except that he’d been pestering Jack every day for the past few weeks; Jack picked up the mail for the dorm from the Administration building and delivered it under everyone’s door.
“Daniel. You’ve got a letter. From them .”
He didn’t need to say anything more. Daniel hung up the phone, jumped out of his chair and grabbed Valerie’s hand. “Please—just come. I need someone with me for this.”
He’d dragged her out of the lab, down a flight of stairs and nearly to the door of Ellis Hall before he stopped, and blushed furiously. “I’m sorry. It’s just—that was the guy who delivers the mail.”
Valerie laughed, and started off again. “Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s go!”
They jogged all the way across the quad and to West Hall, and once they got inside, Daniel took the stairs three at a time. They were both panting when they got to the door of Room 318.
He fumbled with his keys until Valerie grabbed them out of his hand and unlocked the door for him. Then she shoved him inside and locked the door behind her.
The letter was there, on the floor. He could see the logo for Quantum Networking Systems in the corner where the return address went. He bent down slowly, picked it up gingerly, held it in his hands, not daring to open it.
After a minute, Valerie said, very gently, “Would you like me to open it?”
Yes.
No. He was almost twenty-two years old. He was nearly a college graduate. He was dating a beautiful lawyer—well, almost a lawyer, anyway. He was mature enough, confident enough, to open a letter, no matter what it might say.
He slit it open with a finger, pulled out the letter—two pages, surely that was a good sign?—unfolded it. He started reading aloud:
“Dear Mr. Keller, we are pleased…”
He wasn’t sure if he or Valerie shouted first. All he knew was that, suddenly, she was in his arms, and her lips were on his, and his on hers, and then, almost without transition, they were on his bed, and his shirt was unbuttoned down to his navel and her hands were working that very last button.
It had been almost two years since this had happened. Since he’d been with a girl. Since a girl had looked at him the way Valerie was right now, with desire. With… love?
Two years since Nora had looked at him that way, since they’d made love without ever looking away from each other.
No, not two years. Twenty-one months and thirteen days.
And if he could still count it like that, from memory, then his heart was still with her.
He took her hands, gently but firmly, and pulled them off of that last shirt button. Outside of breaking up with Nora, and maybe his freshman year calculus final, this was the most difficult thing he’d ever done.
“I can’t. I’m so sorry, Valerie. I want to—God, I can’t even tell you how badly I want to. You’re amazing. And beautiful. You helped me believe I could get the job. You didn’t just change my life, Valerie—you changed how I see myself. But…”
She was panting; it took her a moment to settle herself. “But what?”
He owed her the truth. Even if she would hate it.
“There was—two years ago I broke up with her. She was—she was my first girlfriend. And I loved her. We were in love. But—the timing was wrong, and we were—too whatever. Or not whatever enough. We both knew it. The last day of the semester, my sophomore year, we broke up. And it’s all this time later…
” He didn’t need to tell her he knew it to the exact number of days. She probably already figured that.
“All this time later, and you’re not over her.
She must have been something.” She wasn’t angry.
Why wasn’t she angry? He tried imagining how he’d feel in her place, and angry was the first thing that came to mind.
“I wish you weren’t so—whatever you are.
” She laughed, and there was a trace of bitterness in it—but only a trace.
“But I don’t think I would have been interested in you if you weren’t.
I understand. I don’t like it, and I’m going to need a cold shower when I get home. But I understand.”
She wasn’t looking away from him. And he saw in her eyes that she did understand.
“I—like I said, I’m sorry. You deserve somebody who’s totally with you. Their heart is completely yours. I wish it could be me, because you’re—seriously, whoever you do find is going to be the luckiest guy in the world.”
She reached over, started buttoning his shirt back up.
“Right back at you. If you ever do get over that girl, you’ll make somebody a pretty fantastic boyfriend.
But,” now she laughed again, without any bitterness at all.
“This doesn’t get you out of helping me in the lab the rest of the semester.
I’ve got a 20 page paper next week I’m going to need you to proofread. ”
When she finished with his shirt, she got up and retrieved the letter from the floor, read it quickly, muttering approvingly to herself as she did.
“And you’re going to need my help, too. Bring the letter to the lab tomorrow, and we’ll talk about negotiating their offer.
” She waved it in front of his face. “This isn’t bad, but we can do better for you.
Don’t call them or write them until I tell you what to say. Okay?”
He hugged her, held her for a couple of moments. “Okay. And thank you. For everything. I’m glad—even if I blew it with you,”—he nodded towards the bed—“I hope we’re still friends.”
“You bet we are, Daniel. It’s not that easy to get rid of me.”
Just like Nora.
Some people were with you forever.