11. Sawyer
SAWYER
I ’ve been in my new apartment for two weeks, and every moment I spend in it, I feel myself feeling a little more normal again. I’ve been thinking more about the therapist that Julian referred me to, and it’s starting to feel less scary. Now that I’ve had an escape, my brain feels less fogged. I feel like I’m ready to move on. To figure out how to move forward.
I pull out the card he gave me from my wallet and send off an introductory email to the practice. Here goes nothing.
Julian has checked in every day, but I’ve definitely been feeling the space between us, and I have to admit, that’s had me more distracted than anything. Thanksgiving is next week, but I’ve decided not to go home. My mom is sad, and so am I, but I can’t lose my job at the mini-mart. That’s how I’ll fund any expenses for my final semester here, groceries, parking passes, and anything else the college life wants to throw at me, and I can’t afford to lose it now. So I’ll stay, work as many shifts as I can, and save up to fly home for Christmas.
With campus closing next week and Julian being so busy, I’m bracing myself for the loneliness that I know is coming.
I’m lying on my couch, starting season four of Cheers, and scrolling on my phone when I get to an article about the shooting. I sit up as I read the headline: All victims’ funerals paid for by anonymous donor.
I take in a deep breath as I read about how not only were the funeral costs completely covered, but each family was also gifted two million dollars by the donor.
Oh, my god.
I click out of the article and open a text to him.
You’re a good man, Julian Everett.
I wait a beat then see the dots appear on my screen.
He sends just a question mark, and I send the link to the article.
There’s another pause, then he texts back.
I don’t know what you’re talking about, he says. How’s the apartment?
I smile.
Amazing. I really can’t thank you enough. Like I said, you’re a good man, Julian.
He ignores my compliments.
What are you doing?
Starting season four.
Without me?
I smile and bite my lip.
You’re welcome to step away from boring billionaire grown-up life and join.
I press send, and then I immediately feel my stomach turn. I think I just tried to proposition Julian Everett. Again.
I see the read receipt pop up. My stomach flips again. I see dots then nothing.
I wait a few minutes.
Still nothing.
Fuck. I just propositioned Julian Everett, and he rejected me. Again.
I lie back on the couch and turn the TV up, trying to drown out the voice in my head that’s reminding me how fucking embarrassing I am. I stare at the television, letting my foot bounce on the ground for an entire episode. I check my phone one last time then throw it down on the coffee table. I lie back on the couch then grab one of my throw pillows and hold it against my face, letting out a frustrated scream into it.
As I’m in the midst of my theatrics, I jump at a loud knock on my door. I swallow as I slink off the couch, tiptoeing across my own living room to look through the peephole.
Oh, my god.
I run a hand through my hair and then swallow as I unlock the door and open it.
“Hi,” I say. His hair is perfectly combed and styled, and he’s got a suit on that sends that white-hot heat between my legs.
“Hi,” he says. “Get dressed. We’re going out.”