Chapter Seventeen
Anna
The sanctity of my morning is broken by Iris and Henry. Who are not quiet about what they’re doing. I’m sure I’ve been guilty of the same. Though I do try to contain myself when I know Iris is here. Not so for them. Especially not for Henry. I have my suspicions that the asshole is being loud on purpose; he’d be the type to get off on something like that. When he starts to grunt “yeah, yeah, yeah,” I don’t care what his motivation is, I need to get out of here.
I pick up the phone and dial. “You want to go for a bike ride?” I ask as soon as he answers. I’m desperate now, practically hopping around my room as I get dressed. “Iris and Henry are going at it like rabbits.”
Thank God he says yes.
“Do me a favor, will you, Anna?”
My bike hits a rut, and the whole frame rattles, and me along with it. “What’s that?” I say when the danger of biting my tongue passes.
George gives me a quick glare before swerving around another pothole. “Do not tell me that my sister is going at it with that sleazy little bitch again.”
Instantly, I cringe. “Shit. I’m sorry. That was so wrong of me. I wasn’t thinking.”
He falls into a nice, quick pace. “Yeah, well, be forewarned. Do it again, and I’m bringing Sylvester to our next dinner out.”
“Ew, no! I’ll behave, I swear!” Sylvester is Iris and George’s creepy handsy cousin who I’m convinced is a serial killer. Years from now, I’ll see George and Iris being interviewed on CNN. “We always had our suspicions about Sly, but our mother made us hang out with him.”
Having sufficiently terrified me into compliance, George gives me a reassuring smile and speeds up. We pace each other as we ride along the bike trail. Early morning light peeks through the gold leaves and the air is crisp. I draw it in and let it cool me.
After a couple of miles, we reach a clearing, and George nods toward it. We roll over to a large elm and leave our bikes resting on the ground as we sit. Silence surrounds us. Despite the good weather, the path is basically deserted. It’s early Saturday morning, so I’m guessing most people are still sleeping off Friday night.
After taking a long drink of water, I nudge George. “So what’s going on with you?”
George finishes his own drink before answering. “That’s what I was going to ask you.”
“Tough. I asked first, so spill.”
“Damn, woman.” But George smiles. His smile gets bigger, but he’s obviously trying to maintain an air of cool, and my curiosity skyrockets. He doesn’t leave me hanging for long. “I got an internship with Jackson and Goldman in New York.”
“Georgie!” I nudge him again. “That’s great!” After years of hearing George drone on about finance, I know that Jackson and Goldman is the best investment banking firm in New York, and George’s idea of Nirvana.
“Fuck yeah it is.” He grins wide as he ducks his head. “A couple professors put in a good word and...” He shrugs.
“And they recognized the brilliance that is you?” I add, making George laugh.
“Yeah, and that.”
We both grin wide and happy.
“You are so inviting me to your Hamptons’ beach house.” If there is one thing George and I have in common, it’s our desire to live in New York when we graduate.
“Extended stay, Banana?”
“You know it. I can do the dishes.”
“No thanks. You suck at doing dishes.”
I shove him with my shoulder, and he chuckles, but shadows linger in his eyes.
“So,” I say when we’ve grown quiet again, “what’s the problem? Are you worried about doing well?”
George chuffs, amused. “I’m going to kick ass. It seems like I’ve been waiting my whole life just to get this chance.”
“But...?” Because it’s there, something dark and heavy weighing on him.
Tension gathers along the corners of his eyes, and he studies his hands that dangle over his bent knees. “It’s Iris.” His shoulders lift on a sigh. “We’ve always been together. And now...”
They won’t be. Iris hates New York City with a passion. And she’s already been accepted into Arizona State’s archeology graduate program.
“You haven’t told her, have you?”
“No. I’ve been trying to work up to it.” George shifts as if his shirt is too tight. “I mean what guy whines about leaving his sister behind? But she’s also my twin.”
“I know.” And I do. Despite their occasional bickering, they are as close as any siblings I’ve met. They often finish each other’s thoughts. And they are almost always together.
George could have gone to an Ivy League school where he might have gained valuable contacts. He had the grades and the offers. But he chose to follow Iris to State.
As if he’s thinking the same thing, he says, “I promised my ma that I’d watch after ’Ris. I wanted to do it.” A weak huff leaves him. “Now everything feels so real. We’ll be going our separate ways and, shit, it’s a fucked-up thing to realize that maybe I really needed her to look after me.”
George blinks rapidly and fiercely, and I let him have a moment. I have no words of comfort. How can I? My future is a dark, empty hole now. If I look too hard at it, I’ll scream.
A biker rides by, breaking the silence. And I take a deep breath. “So we let Iris do the dishes all summer.”
A laugh bursts from George. “She’ll bitch, but you know she’ll love it.” Iris is a complete neat freak.
We both smile as we finish our waters.
“What’s the deal with you and Baylor?” George gives me a searching look. “For serious now. No bullshitting.” He knows me well enough to understand that this version of me isn’t normal.
“Are we still sharing?”
George glares. “I spilled my guts, so yeah, we are.”
I sigh and rest my arms on my raised knees. Green grass tickles my ankles as a breeze dances over the lane. I pick up a brown leaf and twist it around by its brittle stem. “We’re having sex. A lot of it.”
God, it ought to be easier, but then confessions never are. And I’m afraid if I open my mouth to purge, the flow might never stop.
“Is he stringing you along, Banana?” The implicit threat of George hunting down Drew and making him pay is clear.
A huff of laughter escapes me. “More like the other way around.” Shame creeps up my neck and makes it tight. “He wants...” Everything. I shudder. “It’s just supposed to be sex.”
George hums in his throat. “Who do you think you’re fooling with that one?”
“No one but me, apparently.” I frown down at the ground.
After a long moment, George stirs. “This isn’t like you. Not this weird limbo shit you’ve got going with him. What’s the deal?”
Because it’s either a hook up or casual dating for me. Drew doesn’t fit in either category. He never really did.
“He’s... He’s my mirror.” It sounds absurd when I say it but also rings true inside of me. “When I’m with him, I can’t hide. All the bullshit, all the fucked-up issues I think I’ve overcome are reflected back at me in perfect clarity, telling me that I’m full of it.”
“Shit,” says George.
The leaf spins round faster. “You know the most fucked-up thing of all? Even though I see all of my flaws, when I’m with him, I’m...”
I toss the leaf away and shrug as a helpless sound comes out of me. “God, it’s going to sound so sappy, George, but I feel...everything.”
I press the heels of my hands into my eyes so I don’t have to see my friend. Because it is sappy. So freaking sappy, but undeniable. “I’m so happy that I’m afraid to take the next breath because it might end.”
I might not be able to see him, but I can feel George’s presence. And the weight of his stare.
“If it’s that good,” he finally says, “why are you keeping him at a distance?”
It takes several swallows to find the strength to answer. “Because it has to end. He’s going to go out there and have the world in his palm, while I’ll struggle just to find a nine-to-five job. And when it does end, I won’t recover.”
Silence greets me. Filled with the chirp of late fall crickets and the distant motor traffic. I want to crawl away and die. Especially when George sighs.
“Shit, Anna.”
“Yeah,” I say, knowing what he really means: I’m screwed.
He puts an arm around me and tugs me against his sweaty shoulder. I lean into him, registering even now that his comfort isn’t half as relieving as Drew’s. Which just makes it worse.
I don’t see Drew all week. He texts me to say that, thanks to his away game, he’s behind on his classwork and has to catch up. No one I know has a schedule as intense as Drew’s. Up at dawn to work out with his team, classes afterward, then practice, then meetings, then classwork and studying. Frankly, I’m shocked he ever finds the time to see me.
When Drew finally is available to hook up, I’m the one stuck working. As if the universe is conspiring against us, our one class together is canceled when Professor Lambert sends an email telling us that she’s got the flu.
But late at night, when I’m in my bed and he’s in his, he calls me. We talk of nothing too deep, just small things. I now long to hear his voice as much as I need to feel his body against mine. All of which winds me up and makes me twitchy. But maybe a little space is for the best.