Adrian

by Shel Stone

  The rest of the day, she distinctly refused to think about Adrian or anything he said. This was just his way of undermining her and her relationship with Mont. It was all he had left. It was pretty pathetic when it came down to it, and it wasn’t going to affect her. This was going to be a fantastic night and they would have a great time. Adrian could go back to whatever hole he’d crawled out of.

  Nerves were rising in her belly. In the very back of her mind, there was that fear that this was all a setup, and she had Adrian to thank for that, the inability to one hundred percent trust what people showed her. Mont wasn’t like that. He wasn’t like Adrian at all. Everything was above board with him. A decent human being, contrary to Adrian.

  Mont would be there any moment. She’d spent a good hour getting ready and she looked good. The dress was gorgeous, her hair was perfect. Ready for a night out.

  Her heart sank when her phone pinged. That could not be Mont saying he wasn’t coming. It just couldn’t. Swiping it active, she saw a message from Adrian. “How the hell—?”

  You left me alone with your phone, it said.

  “Motherfucker,” she said and then checked that no one heard her. When the hell had that happened? It must have been when she went to the bathroom during English Lit. And then the chime of the doorman ringing through, which had to be Mont. Adrian would just have to wait until later. The bastard had gone into her phone and unblocked himself. “Be right down,” she said to the doorman and checked her reflection one last time.

  Her phone pinged again and she put it on silent, smiled broadly as she stepped out of the elevator to see Mont there. He looked gorgeous. “Hey,” she said.

  “You look stunning,” he replied and kissed her on the cheek. “Sorry I’m a bit late.”

  Now here was a guy who apologized for being ten minutes late. “It happens. Should we go?” The last thing she wanted was to accidentally run into Lauren, or her dad.

  Mont told her about how his practice went and the fact that scouts were going to check out their match at some point. Cecily listened and tried to be interested. Obviously, she got how scouts would be important and could meant consideration for a college team. Of course he would be on a college team. Cecily couldn’t see any other future for him. He’d be adored by thousands of girls and would probably not be an asshole about it.

  In fact, she was proud of how cool he was.

  They ended up at an Argentinian BBQ place, which did lots of meat. Every version of steak and meat on sticks. “I’ve heard great things about this place,” he said. It had thick, chunky wooden furniture and pictures of Argentinian cowboys on the walls.

  “I’ve actually never been to Argentina,” she admitted.

  “I think I went once. Some of the places blend together. My mom’s big on travel. Mostly she goes on trips with her friends now.”

  Well, Cecily hadn’t had that problem much. Her parents had been more concerned about keeping her out of the way.

  Her phone vibrated and she frowned, having a good idea who it was. As the waiter came over and while Mont checked the drink menu, she checked her phone.

  Bored yet?

  Dick.

  “Hey, should we take a photo?” she asked after the waiter left with their drinks order.

  “Okay,” he said and leaned closer as Cecily took a photo of them. It looked good. They looked cute together. Quickly, she posted it, saying it was the perfect date. It was a bit of a ‘fuck you’ to Adrian. No, she wasn’t bored. Mont was awesome. Maybe she’d call him that from now on, Mr. Awesome. Nothing would bother Adrian more.

  Placing it back face down, she didn’t check it when it vibrated again. Instead turned all her attention to Mont, who was telling her about how he was going to Nantucket for Christmas. That it sometimes snowed so much, they couldn’t leave. It wasn’t hard to imagine him looking hot and adorable in Christmas sweaters. Then Aspen after Christmas.

  In return, she tried to sound excited about going to Australia for Christmas to spend time with her mom. An arrangement her parents had agreed without even asking her. So it was summer and beach for Christmas. It could be worse, she supposed, but hot cocoa in front of the fire sounded nice too. It just wasn’t for her. At least until next year, when her parents could no longer agree where to send her anymore.

  Again her phone pinged and she ignored it. This was his game, trying to disturb her date. His running commentary on the date wasn’t required. Maybe the photo pissed him off. It would be a lie to say that part of her didn’t itch to know. A stronger part wanted to convince herself Adrian didn’t exist and have an awesome date, get onto the kissing later. Maybe dream about white Christmases spent in Nantucket in the future.

  Chapter 37

  PLACING THE TUMBLER of whiskey on his bedside table, Adrian lay down in bed. The apartment was utterly quiet, but he didn’t really feel comfortable anywhere but in his room. Better than sitting in a large lounge all by himself, and he wasn’t in the mood to go out.

  The photo of Cecily on her date had hit him in the gut. Obviously he told himself it meant nothing, but it had hurt. She looked gorgeous and her eyes were bright and happy. Rosy cheeks. Perfect berry lips. The urge to hit something speared through him. Preferably Monty, but she’d picked the one guy who’d been waiting years for a good reason to go at him, and would probably do some damage.

  His phone pinged and he ignored it. It was probably one of the guys asking where he was, or some girl looking to slide in. Then he wondered if it might be her. It was just after ten. The date could be over. His heart soared, just like Abby had accused him. Fuck.

  Want me to tell you how good the kiss was? Since you’re so obsessed with my dating life.

  Did this mean she hadn’t slept with him? It was a distinction that apparently had some meaning. Or did it? Would he stop feeling like this if she had?

  For a moment his finger hovered over the screen. Why? We both know you’d lie.

  So full of yourself.

  I know what fire feels like. So do you.

  Learning is all about not sticking your hand in the fire twice.

  Lying back in the bed, he studied the small, smiling icon picture of her. The little typing dots came on and he waited.

  Learning is also about getting rid of toxic people who’re no good. That’s called being smart.

  Aligning yourself with Monty Gibson is wishing to be something you’re not.

  Which is what, exactly?

  For a moment, he couldn’t answer. Someone who belongs with me, he wrote then paused before sending. Backspacing, he deleted. Different, he wrote instead and sent it. Why wouldn’t she just admit that Monty Gibson was boring as shit. Never stepped out of line, saw virtues in lacrosse and precious little else, pillar of bullshit ‘goodness’. Monty Gibson didn’t live in the real world. A family with a good four hundred years of insular, old money, New Amsterdam crap, ‘we have always been worthy of our money’ bullshit. An entirely unique brand of snobbery. A snobbery that truly believed this country had been built for them, while at the same time deriding the old aristocratic order of Europe, despite also acting just like them. Careful of the rabbit holes you jump down.

  What’s that supposed to mean?

  For some reason, Adrian had grown tired of this conversation. It was going down an avenue he didn’t want to walk down. Cecily didn’t see these distinctions. She wasn’t from around here. Most likely there were similar distinctions over in Europe that she fully understood. Everyone was always seeking some way to exclude everyone else from the privileges they enjoyed. It was just how the world worked.

  I don’t know why I’m even fucking talking to you, she sent through. Just fuck off. And don’t touch my phone again. I’m happy with Mont and I really like him, so you just need to stop with whatever sabotage you’re trying to do. It’s not going to work, and it’s really sad.

  Ickiness spread through him as he read it. She just didn’t get it. Did she really think no one would be happier than him if he could
just not give a shit? Her with Monty was like nails on a chalkboard.

  Maybe you need to stop your unfortunate habit of sleeping with your enemies. It came out of him before he really had time to think about it.

  Okay and I’m done with your bullshit riddles. And stop blaming other people for the shit that happens in your life. We’re enemies because you made us that way. You and no one else. Now stop trying to engage with me. I’m over you and your crap.

  Clearly she was angry. Yes, well, she was truly aggravating herself. Putting the phone to side, he put his arm behind his head and stared at the ceiling.

  This tactic had been spent. It was time for change, but he didn’t know how. Cecily had blocked him at every turn and he’d played his cards on Monty’s stellar personality. Dick. No, there was no more traction to be gained there, except sitting around and waiting for Cecily to discover the falsities of Monty’s perfect exterior for herself. Sitting around and waiting wasn’t his thing though.

  There was only one tactic to play when everything else had been exhausted. The truth. Or rather to not allow her to deny the truth.

  With a sigh, he lit a cigarette. The smoke curled silently above him. He was tired, but he would dream when he slept. Dreams that teased, but never gave him what he wanted. She had no idea how she teased him. It would probably shock her how his mind chose to present her.

  His cigarette hand resting on his chest, he let his mind wander, slowly steal him away into sweet torture.

  *

  As Cecily tended to do, she walked into school just as the bell rang, leaving little time to speak to her before class. English Lit. The class that had been their battleground since he’d known her.

  She came in with the last of the bell and slid into her seat.

  “Okay, Class,” Mr. Anderson said. “Today we are venturing into that terrifying place where few of you dare venture. The library. You are going to find a writer not of this century, or last, and you are going to read it.”

  A groan spread across the room.

  “There is even the foreign language section for those of you more daring.” Which Cecily would definitely do, because she was looking for extra credit academically. Adrian didn’t even know how many languages she spoke, but with her background it was probably a few.

  The class noisily rose.

  “Seriously, I think Mr. A just wants a day off,” Finn said, hauling his bag up on his shoulder.

  Adrian was only half paying attention to Finn, as most of his attention was on Cecily, who walked ahead of him. In a way, it felt a little like he was stalking her. Finn kept on talking and Adrian wished he’d just shut up. At the least not expect much of an answer back.

  The library had dark mahogany swing doors, which opened to a large, silent space. As silent as a class full of teenagers could be. Cecily’s bag had been left on the table, but she was nowhere in sight.

  “I’ll see you in a bit,” he said, clapping Finn on the shoulder. Sound melted away as he walked into the row of books. It was as if walking into a forest. A deconstructed version of trees, he supposed. This school had built up its library for over a century.

  Where was she? He didn’t even know where the foreign language section was. Truthfully, he hadn’t been in here since eight grade. And there she was, her attention on the open book in her hands. She hadn’t heard him, and he was close by the time she did, which startled her.

  “What do you want?”

  “You.”

  She sighed with annoyance and closed the book. It was French, he saw. “Well, I don’t want you.”

  “Yes, you do, but you hate that you do.” Her cheek indented where she bit it. “What you got?” he said, indicating to the book.

  “A French book. Les Liaisons Dangereuses. A nobleman seduces a lady, she falls for it and then they both die miserable deaths.”

  “Does she kill him?” The scent of her filled his senses. How could she smell so good? It seeped into his mind and lulled him like a siren’s call.

  “Go pick your own book,” she demanded. “In other words, go away.”

  It looked like she was going to leave, but he blocked her way. Her nearness felt like electricity. “What do you want, Adrian?”

  Leaning down, he sought her lips, but she dodged him. In his gut, he knew she would melt if they kissed. “You.”

  “You’re only here because my attention is elsewhere. That’s it, isn’t it? You can’t get over the fact that I’m not caught up in your bullshit anymore. I’ve moved on.”

  Yes, truthfully, it itched like ants under his skin, but he also knew that something about it all wasn’t genuine. Her and Mont didn’t belong together—they never would. Which made him wonder how much of this was because she was getting back at him. And it worked. It was definitely effective. “He’ll never make you feel like I do.”

  She snorted, but refused to look him in the eyes. “I. Don’t. Want. You. You had me. You did,” she said, finally looking him in the eyes. “I wanted you like nothing else, and you decided to destroy it. That can’t be undone now. So I don’t know what this whole wobble is about now, but it’s done. A pang of conscience? I don’t care. We’re done. There is nothing else. You had me, you destroyed it, end of story. Mont and I might not work out, but there is nothing here now.”

  There was finality in her words, a hardness in her eyes. “Your words say one thing and your actions say another.”

  She stood in silence for a while. “Yeah, maybe,” she admitted. “But I am losing my anger. I have to. It’s what’s keeping me here. I get that now. It’s the cord between us and it has to go.”

  Unable to say why, this hurt. Really hurt. He was stuck here, caught up in this and she was working on how to cut him loose. It felt brutal. They could be something else entirely, if she would just see that, but she didn’t want to. She knew, but she wanted to sever the link between them. She was intent on severing the link.

  Slipping under his arm, she walked away. Threw a last hard look back at him before she disappeared behind a bookcase. A strong impulse wanted him to go after her, refuse to let her walk away, to sever the link between them, but it wasn’t up to him now. He couldn’t make her. The knowledge sat like a burning cinder in his chest and nothing would alleviate it.

  After standing there for a moment, he knew he had to get out of there—out of the school, because his guts had just been ripped out and handed to him.

  Chapter 38

  THE SUMMONS TO make an appearance came through around lunchtime. It specified the restaurant and when. A summons was rare, which meant his father wanted to discuss something. What, Adrian had no idea. And there would be hell to pay if he didn’t show up, so show he would. Usually it was to check his behavior. To report that some teacher had called him, or something else pointless. Mostly it was to convey how disappointed he was and to regale how awesome his dad believed he’d been at Adrian’s age, and how pale his son looked in comparison.

  According to his father, sunshine had literally shone out of his own ass at all times in his life. Well, Jeffrey Chambers had dulled that sunshine a little. Not that his father would ever admit it. It was true, though. They’d tangled, and Jeffrey Chambers had walked away better off. Same was true for him.

  Standing out on the street, he took his time finishing his smoke. Dinner with his father was never something he walked away from better off than he’d come. It was the price to pay for whatever it was he did. In the past he would hate this, but right now he didn’t feel the dread as keenly as he normally did. Maybe that meant something.

  Or maybe the vice grip Cecily had around his heart just didn’t make shit like this register anymore, because really, could he feel more shit about anything? Least of all his father’s fucking opinion. It never had been good and it never would be. That was just a constant in life.

  Feeling thoroughly bored, Adrian took the elevator up to the restaurant, and emerged in a heavily carpeted room with sections of inlaid marble carvings and carved wood paneling.
Real piano music played somewhere. Luxury without gaudiness. This was a place for people who felt they were beyond pretention, but luxuriated in the fact that no sane person would pay these prices. The prices kept the riff raff out, and that was their purpose.

  “Father,” Adrian said as he approached his father and ignored the intercepting Maitre‘d, who quickly melted away.

  “Adrian,” his father said, already eating his appetizer, refusing to budge his schedule for the other party joining him. “You’re late.”

  “Traffic,” Adrian lied.

  “Your school called again,” his father said. “My staff have better things to do than deal with nuisances. The one thing I ask of you is to take care of your shit.”

  “Sorry, father. I have been under the weather.”

  “Then get it sorted. I’m not interested in excuses.”

  These little gems just weren’t stinging the way they used to. Did this actually mean he was growing up? It would be really nice to stop giving a shit what his father said and thought. It had been something he’d worked on, but that skin had been thin. Well, his thin skin was now entirely focused on taking blows from another direction. Apparently there was none to spare for his father.

  “And this business with Cecily Chambers—”

  Adrian looked up.

  “What the fuck were you thinking putting it on the internet?” His dad rarely swore. “You know how far the thing has gone?”

  “Why? Is it coming up in conversation?”

  “Watch what you say,” his father warned. “Do you have any understanding how embarrassing it is to be called in to explain you dicking around with a girl like that?”

  “You mean Jeffrey Chambers’ daughter?” Adrian asked. “I’ll take a whiskey.”

  “And if you don’t watch it, you’ll be as big a lush as your mother.”