She gave him what she hoped was a convincing smile. “You should have seen the muscles I had back then.”
“I wish I could have.” He slid into the driver’s seat and shot her a second look, studying her with an expression she couldn’t quite peg. Could he tell that something had changed? The thought made her pulse quicken.
“Is something the matter?” she asked finally.
“No,” he said. “It’s just… your hair.”
“You don’t like it?” she asked.
“It makes you look different. Like somebody else.”
As Shane pulled away from the curb, Lucy sank back into the gray upholstery, trying not to blurt out what she was thinking: that she’d just become somebody else—the kind of girl who cheats on her boyfriend. She watched as Woodruff Hall receded from view and thought that soon enough she’d probably have to leave it for good. How could so much have gone so wrong in such a short period of time? Lost in thought, she forgot to make polite conversation. When Shane hit the turn signal, its click-click-clicking echoed in the silence.
“Is everything okay?” he finally asked.
Lucy looked over at him and noticed, for the first time, how nicely he was dressed—in a crisp oxford shirt and a black peacoat she’d never seen before. He was even wearing aftershave. He’s trying so hard, she thought, guilt washing over her again.
“Everything’s okay,” she said.
“Really? You seem on edge.”
Lucy felt the muscles around her mouth twitch. “You’re right. Everything’s not okay.”
Shane took his eyes off the road. “How so?”
Lucy thought fast. Though she couldn’t tell Shane the whole story, at least she could tell him half. She filled him in on the standoff with her dad, and he nodded as he listened, not saying a word until she’d gotten all the way through.
“That’s harsh.” He reached over to pat her arm.
“I know,” she said.
“I’m sure you’re very talented,” he said.
Lucy forced a smile. “You’ve never even seen me act,” she said, but the minute she said the words, she knew they were a lie. She acted for Shane all the time, trying to seem worldly, glamorous, adventurous, and perpetually upbeat—all the things she imagined a guy like Shane would want in a girlfriend. She was acting for him now.
“I have an instinct about these things.” He took his hand back to hit the turn signal and change lanes. “Everything will be okay.”
“I don’t see how,” she said.
“Lots of people put themselves through college,” Shane said. “If they can do it, you can.”
Lucy looked out the window at the landscape rushing past, then down at her knees—anywhere but at Shane.
“I know what,” he added. “Maybe I can help you find a job. I’ll ask my dad. He might know someone who’s hiring.”
“That’s really sweet,” Lucy said. “But you don’t seem to understand. Forsythe costs a fortune. I should know; my father mentions it every chance he gets.” She picked a loose thread from her coat and forced herself to sound matter-of-fact. “Job or no job, I’ll probably have to transfer to community college.”
“So you’ll go to community college,” Shane said. “It’s not the end of the world, right?”
Lucy nodded, but she was thinking of Britt, of Sarah and Glory, of Cleo and Matteo, of Café Paradiso, and of the Theater Arts building and the plays that would be put on there without her. She thought of the bell tower that rang the song’s alma mater every day at noon, and the blueberry-streusel muffins at the dining hall, and her little pink and white dorm room, which she’d come to love though it was barely big enough for one, much less two. And remembering her room brought another image flooding back: Jesse lying under her pink-polka-dotted duvet.
Lucy shook her head vigorously, as though she could shake the memory from her mind. “I’ll need to start looking for a place to live, too,” she observed glumly. “Oh, God. I’m sorry. I’m no fun at all today.”
“Can’t you live at home?” Shane asked. “Then you wouldn’t have to worry about rent.”
“After the way my dad talked to me today? I’d rather live in a roach motel downtown.” She thought of Shane’s neighborhood, funky and bohemian, bustling with young professionals and artsy types. “How much does your apartment cost?” she asked. “If you don’t mind my asking.” When he told her, she felt the glumness descend again. “That much? How on earth can you afford it?”
“My parents help out.” Was it Lucy’s imagination, or did Shane sound a little defensive? She didn’t know what to say in reply, and Shane, deep in thought, didn’t speak again until they were on the turnpike. “You could live there with me,” he said, out of the blue.
Lucy gaped at him, stunned by the offer.
“If you can’t find a place of your own,” he added.
“Oh,” she said. “Wow. You mean live together?” She could barely get the question out. “That’s really… thoughtful. But we haven’t even… I mean we don’t know each other that well yet. Do we?”
“That’s what this trip is about, isn’t it?” The sun came out from behind the clouds and Shane reached for his sunglasses. “Listen, you’re right; it’s soon. It’s not like I’d be asking you to move in under normal circumstances.”
“Oh,” Lucy said.
“But these aren’t normal circumstances. You need a place to live. So we can just try it out for a little while, and if it doesn’t work, it doesn’t have to be forever. Who knows? Maybe living together will be great.”
And maybe it won’t, Lucy thought. She had the sudden, bizarre urge to fling the car door open and jump out.
“You wouldn’t even have to pay rent.” Shane took one hand off the wheel to give Lucy’s shoulder a reassuring rub.
“I’d want to,” Lucy protested. “That would only be fair.”
Shane returned his hand to the wheel. “Well, then, you could chip in whatever you could afford.”
Lucy looked back down at her own hands, palms-up in her lap. “You’re like a dream boyfriend,” she said.
Shane chuckled.
“No, seriously. You are so, so, so nice.” I should tell him about Jesse, she thought. “I think maybe I don’t deserve you,” she said.
But Shane was lost in the details. “It’ll be great. We can split groceries. We’ll keep each other on track. Who knows—maybe you’ll wind up saving some money.”
“I don’t see how that’s possible,” Lucy mumbled.
“We’ll put a little aside every month. Then you could even come with me to Europe next summer. Wouldn’t that be great?”
“Europe?” Lucy asked in disbelief.
“We can do it on the cheap,” Shane said. “Stay in hostels, the way you did last year. Get student rail passes. Think how great it would be. Planning a trip would give you something to focus on. Something to look forward to.”
“But I’m going to be dead broke,” Lucy said. Does he really understand the situation I’m in? she wondered.
“Well, then, if we can’t afford a whole tour of Europe, we could just stay in one place for a while. Find a cheap sublet. Live like the locals. Wouldn’t you like that?”
Lucy was dumbfounded. “But…” she began, then trailed off.
“In Rome, maybe,” he said. “Or Florence. You really liked Florence, right?”
“Yes,” Lucy said. “I loved Florence.” And though it all seemed so crazy, she tried to calm herself by shutting her eyes and envisioning Florence. She tried to imagine wandering its streets with Shane—pausing to look in shop windows, drinking wine at a sidewalk café in Piazza Santo Spirito, lingering on the Ponte Vecchio, looking out over the Arno. The mental snapshots were all so vivid—but in each one, the person she kept seeing at her side was Jesse. She tried to picture something more immediate instead: the apartment that awaited them in New York that afternoon, the bedroom they would be sleeping in that very night. But when she tried to conjure Shane’s face
beside her on the pillow, the face she saw was Jesse’s.
Just then, Shane hit the brakes and the car slowed almost to a halt. “Oh, great.”
Lucy’s eyelids fluttered open. They’d hit a traffic jam. She glanced over at Shane and found him fiddling with his GPS, punching its buttons. “Must be an accident up there.”
“I’m sorry,” Lucy said.
“Ah, so you caused this?” He gestured toward the traffic in front of them, ground to a complete standstill. “You must have superpowers.”
I’m sorry for everything, Lucy thought, the words echoing in her head until she was tempted to say them out loud. “I can’t go to Europe with you,” she said instead.
Shane sighed. “I know how hopeless everything seems right now.”
Lucy peered ahead, trying to spot a way out of the traffic jam, but the next exit was nowhere in sight. “Everything is hopeless.”
His smile faded. “Don’t you think you’re being a little… dramatic?”
She wriggled, her seat belt too tight. “You don’t understand.”
“Maybe I don’t,” he said. “Maybe I’ve always had it pretty easy. Maybe I’ve never had to pay my own tuition or rent.” A silver SUV was trying to wedge itself into their lane; Shane gave the driver a weary wave. “But I shouldn’t have to apologize for that.”
“Of course not,” Lucy said. “I didn’t mean…”
“I’m just trying to cheer you up. And you’re not… you’re not…”
“I’m not what?” Lucy asked.
“You’re not making it easy.”
Lucy looked at him—really looked at him, past the mirrored shades and his whole handsome surface, to the person he was, the guy who wanted to make her feel better. The guy who was willing to let her move into his apartment even though—let’s face it—he hardly even knew her. He deserves better than this, she thought. Better than a girl who wants to be with someone else.
A moment later, the traffic started moving again; they passed a fender bender and a patrol car, its red lights flashing a warning. Soon they would be hurtling at full speed toward New York City and Shane’s cousin’s apartment. Somehow the thought was unbearable.
Though she wasn’t at all sure what she was going to say next, Lucy knew it was time to say something. “I know my timing is terrible, but I can’t help how I feel,” she began. “About us. I mean, I like you. I really like you, but…”
“What?” Shane’s voice was full of disbelief. “It almost sounds like you’re breaking up with me.” He laughed, and when Lucy didn’t laugh along with him, he asked, “Are you?”
Lucy grew flustered. “No!” she said. Then, after a moment’s thought, “Yes.”
“Are you serious?” Both his hands left the steering wheel in a gesture of frustration and confusion. “Have I done something wrong?”
“No,” she said. “You’ve been nothing but wonderful.”
“Then why?” In what felt like slow motion, his hands returned to the wheel.
“Because I’m in love with somebody else.” As soon as she spoke the words, she knew they were true. Jesse was probably already on a plane back to Europe, and she might never see him again, but that didn’t change the fact that she wanted to be with him—not with Shane, or anybody else.
Now Shane was looking at her with something like horror in his eyes.
“I only just realized,” Lucy said. “Really, it’s got nothing to do with you.” Her words tumbled out. “You’re really, truly great. Most girls would feel incredibly lucky.…”
“But not you.” His voice was flat.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Who is this somebody else?”
“Nobody you know,” Lucy said, though that much was already obvious. It wasn’t like she and Shane had many friends, or even acquaintances, in common.
“And you fell in love with him while you’ve been going out with me?” Shane’s voice got harder. “Have you been cheating on me this whole time?”
Lucy flushed. “He’s somebody I knew last summer. I didn’t think I’d ever see him again. But then he came to see me. And things just… happened.”
“Things?” Shane sounded exasperated. “What kind of things?”
Lucy bit her knuckle, unable to answer.
“I can’t believe this. Tonight of all nights. We have reservations at Tiger Lily at eight. And fifth-row tickets to Wicked. Do you know how hard those were to get?”
“I’m sorry,” she said again. Now that she’d started confessing, she wanted to keep going, explain every sordid detail. But while spilling her guts might make her feel better, she knew it would only make Shane feel worse. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” I wanted to love you, she thought. Though she was tempted to reach over and pat his hand, she held back.
“What happens now?” Shane’s knuckles were white against the steering wheel. “What do we do?”
“Could you take me back to campus?” Lucy asked. “Please?”
He looked at her, almost uncomprehendingly, for a long moment. Then he punched a few more buttons on the GPS and veered abruptly to the right, cutting off two lanes of traffic, aiming for the next exit.
XXVI
The drive home was excruciating. When the silence between them grew unbearable, Shane turned on the radio, restlessly scanning from station to station. Lucy had him drop her off at the edge of campus to cut the trip a few minutes shorter. The day had grown gray and cold, and she dragged her overstuffed suitcase behind her, its wheels noisy against the pavement. The sight of Barton Hall, where her English class met, ordinarily wouldn’t have filled her with emotion; today, though, it reminded her of how little time she had left at Forsythe. And walking past the Theater Arts building, which was quieter than usual, made her father’s words ring in her ears: Moderately talented, moderately talented, moderately talented. He couldn’t have said any two words designed to hurt her more.
Today I lost everything, she thought, buttoning her coat against the cold. Jesse. Shane. Forsythe. She hadn’t realized how much she loved Forsythe, but the thought that she would soon have to leave it gave her an actual pain in her stomach. I’ll lose Cleo. And Matteo. And Britt. Tears sprang to her eyes at the thought of her roommate. I have to tell Britt. She rummaged in her purse for her phone and turned it on.
Immediately, it rang in her hand.
“Lucy?” The voice on the other end of the line was, of all people, Charlene. “Where are you?”
Lucy stopped mid-stride. “In front of the Theater Arts building. Why?”
“I’m coming to pick you up. Stay where you are.”
This was a strange development. Beyond strange. The line went dead in Lucy’s hand. What on earth could Charlene mean? Lucy tried to call her back, but the call went straight to voice mail. She tried a second time and was leaving a message when a slightly battered gray sedan pulled to the curb next to her. The driver—Charlene—leaned across the front seat to throw the passenger door open. “Come on,” she said.
“Where are we going?” Lucy asked, climbing in and buckling her seat belt.
Charlene was as breathless as if she’d been running toward Lucy instead of driving. “To the airport. To stop Jesse.”
Lucy struggled to find her voice. “What?” she asked finally.
“I saw him. This morning. Stomping away from your dorm. Lugging that guitar bag of his. So I asked him where he was going. He said to the airport. Then he kept walking.”
“Wait. What?” Lucy asked again, unable to get beyond one-word questions.
“So I got in my car. Drove around campus. I found him at the bus stop. Asked him why he seemed so mad.” Charlene gasped for air. “Said the two of you had a fight. And he had an open ticket. To Naples via Rome. Tried to get him to wait. To think it over. But a bus pulled up and he got on.”
The car screeched onto the highway and Lucy clutched the dashboard. “He’s leaving today?”
“Tonight.” Charlene said. “He didn’t say wh
at time. But he mentioned his ticket was with Etruscan Airways, so I checked the schedule online. I think his plane leaves at six forty-five. Flight 376, nonstop to Rome.” Charlene leaned on the horn and passed an Oldsmobile going the speed limit.
Even though last summer they had hiked up mountainsides and climbed medieval bell towers, Lucy had never once seen Charlene this out of breath. “Are you okay?” she asked.
Charlene nodded. “When I panic, I forget to inhale.” She shot Lucy a look that was almost accusatory. “Where have you been hiding? I’ve been trying to reach you. All afternoon.”
Lucy checked her voice mail. Sure enough, she found five messages from Charlene.
“Call him,” Charlene urged.
“I would if he had a phone,” Lucy said.
“Who doesn’t have a cell phone?” Charlene asked. “What is he, some kind of monk?”
Lucy tucked her phone back in her purse. “I don’t understand, though. Why are you this worked up about Jesse?”
“Because he came all the way from Europe. Not for his cousin’s wedding. That was just an excuse. He came for you. He said so.”
“He did?” Lucy asked. “Why didn’t he tell me that?”
“Who knows?”
“But…” Lucy said. For all Charlene knew, Lucy was still going out with Shane. “Why do you care so much?”
“I figure I owe you one. After Fiesole. After giving your photo to Ellen.” Charlene switched lanes to zoom around a slow-moving Buick. “But that’s not even the real reason.”
“It isn’t?”
“It would be wrong to let him get away.” Charlene tore her gaze from the highway just long enough to meet Lucy’s eyes. “He loves you.”
Lucy felt her heart speed up. “You think so?”
“He said so.”
“He told you he loves me?” Lucy’s voice came out in a squeak.
“He didn’t want to admit it,” Charlene said, “but his bus was late, so we had some time to talk, and I broke him down with my expert interrogation skills.”
Lucy couldn’t help but smile. She’d seen Charlene in action and could easily believe she’d bent Jesse to her will. “You’re terrifying,” she said.
Love, Lucy Page 19