Chapter 91 #2
I stared back with raised eyebrows and suppressed a feeling of disgust until the man swallowed and looked at Davian.
They must both be lawyers. At least, they wore gold scales brooches, like many here, as if we had landed at a gathering of a corrupt legal secret society.
“I hear you’re looking to get back in with the big boys?
” Ken laughed. “In D.C.?” He raised his eyebrows enthusiastically.
“And let’s be honest…” He lowered his voice and gestured in the direction where I now spotted Arnold in the company of older gentlemen.
“That university has always been beneath your league.”
“Oh, I heard he’s definitely coming back,” said Caveman. “That’s part of a deal between him and the future director of Maplecrest Law.”
“Joseph isn’t taking over Maplecrest,” Davian muttered unenthusiastically, and Ken raised his eyebrows again, this time in surprise.
“Do you know something we don’t?”
“He’s simply unsuited for such a responsible role,” I said, giving Ken – who had only just noticed me and was now immediately sizing me up from head to toe and back up again – a warning glance.
“And you are?”
Ken gave a sly smirk.
Davian cleared his throat, his expression darkening, but I was quicker.
“A Republican’s worst nightmare.”
The grin vanished from his face, and Caveman looked back and forth between Davian and me, clearly confused.
I seized the moment to flash the gentlemen my toothpaste commercial smile before turning on my heel and walking away, followed by Davian.
Another Day in Paradise
Siddhartha Khosla, Carol Kuswanto
A glance to the side showed me his proud smile.
“Robert will never forget you. Good for him that I’ll keep you away from him.”
I knew men like Robert. Ninety percent of the guests here were conservative members of a wannabe elite that would sooner or later destroy itself.
Three more men spotted Davian and immediately pointed in our direction.
“You’re quite the celebrity,” I teased and stopped, grinning.
The orchestra switched to a softer song while more and more guests entered the gala.
Davian let his paranoid gaze wander through the crowd, where a woman nodded at him, but he ignored her.
“And I hate it with a passion.”
He sounded exhausted. As if he wanted to get out of here just as fast as I did. But three more men were already heading our way.
“You…” I turned to him. “Until the speeches start, feel free to fend off a few money-grubbing lawyers. I’ll take care of my manuscripts in the meantime.”
He knew for a few days now.
“I’d rather come with you.”
He immediately looked around, toward my father, who seemed engrossed in a conversation with Arnold and three older gentlemen.
“Don’t worry. This is the best day to get them down from up there. He’s distracted, and besides…”
“Good old Rydell!” laughed another sycophant.
I smiled apologetically at Davian, and he seemed to want to stop me with his pleading gaze. A look filled with traces of those things he would rather be doing with me right now. A silent plea to get out of here as quickly as possible and leave this life behind us after tonight.
I would follow him, take his hand, and finally close this painful chapter to begin a new one with him.
My smile turned into an anticipatory grin as I slipped away with a sweeping movement, though I didn’t get very far.
She Might Be Scared of You
Luke Richards
In a busy passageway, I bumped into a young man.
Startled, Zach and I stared at each other until he raised his eyebrows.
“You? Invited? Your academic performance is so poor that I wonder how I ever considered you a competitor.”
His expression returned to its usual cold detachment. And mine to my usual pity.
“I hope that someday you’ll realize that your academic success is just a framework that you happen to fit into. It will never bring you anywhere near a sense of inner satisfaction.”
Before he even had a chance to reply, I patted him on the shoulder and disappeared into the next salon, where mostly women were chatting with each other, which made me quicken my pace, only to nearly bump into Monica in the next passageway, who was holding her martini and staring at me as if I were a ghost, ready to scare her out of her wits.
Normally, I would have grinned now. But there were too many things we still hadn’t cleared up. Too much left unsaid. And that was just the tip of an iceberg made of lies beneath the surface.
“Hey, Monica.”
I wanted to nod at her and turn away, but she grabbed my wrist.
“Wait…”
I hadn’t even thought about what I would say to her, how I would respond to her questions or accusations, how to deal appropriately with everything she had revealed to me. Yet I paused and turned back to her.
She hesitated. And the pity in her eyes didn’t make it any better. Or was it… remorse?
I couldn’t do this…
Once again, I turned to leave, but she grabbed my wrist again.
“I understand that you’re both overwhelmed by the changes in your lives, and that you want to try out new things, while he’s in the middle of a worrying midlife crisis.”
Something inside me began to pull painfully.
Of course, we would face resistance from the people who mattered to us.
Her gaze became more desperate.
“But he’s too old for you, Quill.”
My expression smoothed.
“I love Davian.”
Monica’s features slipped from her control.
“I love your son with everything I have and everything I could ever give. He saved my life, and I know, deep down, that we understand each other on a level that was never meant to be understood. Yes, maybe I sound like a teenager in love, Monica, but I’d rather be a teenager in love who chooses to love a man the way he should have been loved all these years, rather than a woman who suppresses her feelings just to fit into yet another ice cube tray of this society.
Whatever it means to love Davian, that is what I choose, and that includes turning my back on those who question this love in the long run and could thereby jeopardize his well-being.
So decide whose side you want to be on. Because even though you mean a lot to me, Davian means everything to me. ”
Because I had the feeling the martini was about to slip from her hand at any moment, I took it from her trembling fingers, set it on the windowsill, and turned to finally rescue my manuscripts from this cursed madhouse.
You’ll See
Gustavo Santaolalla, Juan Luqui
I took one of the staircases up to the empty second floor, then another to the bedroom floor, where I hurried past my old room, the door of which someone had replaced, making it look as if my father had never smashed it.
Determined, I walked around the corner toward the small side staircase that led up to the attic and took it as fast as this dress and Lara’s shoes allowed me.
God, how I had missed my manuscripts.
With burning euphoria, I yanked open the door, slipped into the spacious, dark attic, and closed the door behind me.
I flipped the light switch before taking the last three steps.
The last three steps were my final steps. Then I froze into a pillar of salt.
And suddenly it flows. My ink.
– Blue