Two shadows flickered in the window, and I inhaled deeply. When one silhouette reached for the other and the space between them closed, I turned and ran.
I skidded along the makeshift path, wincing when I fell onto my knee and soaked my jeans. Pushing myself up with a numb hand, I continued till I made it to my car, once again pissing off the poor shoveling guy as I passed him. This time, I didn’t bother apologizing.
I covered my mouth with my scarf to mute the sobs erupting from my gut. Leila’s words twisted around my skull, and I slammed my fist into my side at my stupidity in the hospital the other day.
I hadn’t even given him a chance to explain.
• • •
The drive back to my dorm barely registered until I collapsed on my bed, coat and boots still on.
Reggie stood from the desk and sat on the edge of my mattress. She cupped my cheek. “Hey, what happened? You wanna talk about it?”
“I’m an idiot,” I moaned.
“Is this about Gavin?”
I nodded and Reggie grabbed my arm and pulled me into a sitting position.
“Okay, well, first let’s get your boots off. You’re soaking your bed and you’re shivering. You’re going to make yourself sick.” I kicked off the footwear and tossed my coat and scarf on the floor.
“Okay. Now, tell me what happened.”
Reggie and I hadn’t really talked much since Clint’s accident. And when we did, it was usually to discuss his progress. I’d never spoken to her about Gavin and our relationship. Now, I spilled everything to her as she heated me a cup of hot chocolate in the microwave her parents had given her over break. With the scent of overly sweetened cocoa flooding my nasal passages, I explained about our date at the island, my confession about the accident, the night we’d spent together, and my inevitable fuckup at seeing him with Leila.
My roommate sat on her bed, back against the unadorned wall, index finger tapping against her chin.
“Hmmm . . . Can I ask you something without you getting mad?”
A damp chill coursed through me, and I pulled the blankets over my legs and wrapped my fingers around the mug of hot yumminess. “Go for it.”
“Were you really upset about the kiss with Leila, or was it just one more way for you to make sure you didn’t end up with him?”
“Why wouldn’t I want to end up with him? I really like him. I like being with him. I feel comfortable when I’m with him. Like I can be myself, no questions asked.”
“Right.” Reggie tugged at the corner of her pillowcase. “When you two are alone. But some part of you had to know if you stayed with him, you’d inevitably be thrust into the spotlight. You saw those pictures when he dated Veronica. And the one with Leila was just another reminder.
“Elise, you’ve spent most of your life hiding from almost everyone, me included. Why would you suddenly be okay with subjecting yourself to the scrutiny of the entire world?”
I took too large a gulp of hot chocolate and winced as it singed my tongue. Setting the mug on the desk beside me, I studied my roommate.
“I think you’re right.”
“Of course I am.”
“I’ve sabotaged everything in my life out of fear.”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
Pulling the blankets up to my neck, I buried my face in the down and sniffed the lavender detergent still lingering there. “It doesn’t matter now. I basically threw Veronica right back at him. I told her to go for it and she did. And if he’s willing to go back and forth between us like a Ping-Pong ball, he’s not the guy for me. So much for Leila thinking he was in love with me.”
Reggie stole over to my side of the room and wrapped me in a side hug. “Oh, hon. It’s his loss. You deserve better than someone who pulls crap like that.”
“What if no one better will have me?”
She pushed the hair off my face. “Then there’s no hope for any of us.”
• • •
Sleep eluded me that night, so I banged away on my laptop as Reggie conked out on her bed. Thora and Dag kept me busy until shards of sunlight slipped through the blinds, striping my screen with yellow. I’d given the draft a quick final edit and was officially prepared to send it off to my agent.
I’d just hit the Send button and was so engrossed with watching my work fly off into cyberspace, I didn’t notice something was wrong until Reggie practically jumped in my lap.
She was in her favorite nightshirt. The one with the picture of a sleepy-looking cat holding a mug of coffee and the words I DON’T DO MORNINGS written across her chest. Reggie’s hair frizzed around her face, making her look similar to the feline on her pajamas. “What the hell is that?”
“What’s what?”
“Someone is seriously pounding on the door. Can’t you see it rattling? They’re gonna wake the whole campus.”
I looked toward the entrance. She was right. The door banged against its hinges, jarring the frame. I tossed my laptop onto the bed and tiptoed across the room. Reggie stood behind me, clutching my shoulders, her nails digging in with sharp stings. I reached for the closest thing I could use as a weapon, which turned out to be my boot, still damp from the night before.
The sole dripped on my head as I held it up, and I shuddered as dirty water snaked down my arm. I reached for the lock on the back of the door and flicked it. Taking a deep breath, I threw open the door.
Veronica stood before us, her face crimson, her feet shoeless, holes in her panty hose, and murder in her eyes.
“Where the hell were you last night? You took off early and left me on the set all by myself! Not only did I have to answer Stan’s questions without you, I had to walk here! In the snow! Doesn’t this town have any cabs?”
“We have a few—”
“I don’t give a shit about the cabs. Where were you? You’re the worst assistant ever!”
I dropped the boot and rubbed my shoulders after Reggie unclasped herself from me. “I figured you’d get a ride with Gavin.”
“Why would you think that?”
“When I went to his trailer, you two seemed . . . cozy . . . so I assumed you’d stay with him.”
“Hah.” She barged past me and plopped onto my bed. She started tugging off her panty hose. “He didn’t want anything to do with me. I tried to kiss him and the asshole actually pushed me away. Can you believe it?”
My mouth went dry. “He did?”
“Yeah. Jackass. Can’t see true class when it’s right in front of him.” She tossed her hose onto my floor and pulled her frizzed hair back with one of Reggie’s elastics she’d plucked off the desk. “He actually said there was someone else. I mean, who the hell could be a better choice than me?”
“Me.” The word flew out of my mouth before I could stop it. I hitched in a breath as Veronica’s head snapped up from dusting off her skirt.
“You? Yeah right. Keep dreaming, Scarface.”
“Whoa.” Reggie stomped over to Veronica. “I know you’re cold and pissed off, but I want you to take that back.”
I placed a hand on my friend’s shoulder. “No, Reg, it’s fine. Because she’s wrong. She can call me whatever she likes. Gavin did choose me over her.” I turned to Veronica. “We’ve been seeing each other for a month now behind your back. I’m the one who convinced him to break up with you in the first place. I’m the reason he dismissed you. Both times.”
Veronica rose from the bed. Even without her heels, she still stood taller than me. “You’re lying. There’s no way.”
“It’s true,” I said. “Gavin thinks I’m beautiful, and when I compare the two of us, I know he’s right. I may have scars on my body, but you’re ugly on the inside.”
Veronica’s mouth opened and closed. Confusion creased her brows. She’d probably never had anyone call her ugly before. I bit back my anger, knowing a
ll too well how much that word hurt.
“Honestly,” I continued, softening my stance, “I feel sorry for you. The first day I met you, I noticed your empty house. There was nothing in it that was personal. And you’ve never mentioned parents, or siblings, or friends. You go from one man to the other like they are the only thing keeping you afloat. And when a stranger put your face on the back of a book you’d never heard of, you never thought to question it. You just jumped into pretending to be her.”
I laid a hand on her silky shoulder. “Why did you want to be someone else so bad, Veronica? What’s wrong with being you?”
She took a step back, nudging my fingers off her skin. “You just called me Veronica. In front of your roommate.”
“Reggie knows the truth,” I said. “So does Gavin. And soon my agent and publicist will, too. I’m done hiding. But you didn’t answer my question.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Veronica squared her shoulders. “I did this for the money. I’m not running from anything.”
“You were pretending to be me long before I showed up and offered you money to do it.”
She backed into the door. “I don’t need to tell you anything. We aren’t friends, you know. This was all a business transaction.”
“It doesn’t have to be,” I said. “Now that my secret is out, we can be ourselves. And as awful as you’ve been to me, I’m willing to look past it and try to be your friend. I think there’s more to you than fancy clothes and perfect hair. Just like there’s more to me than my scars. If you think about it, we’re the same—both of us have spent years hiding who we really are from everyone. I mean, we went about it a bit differently. I withdrew and you got kinda mean, but despite that, if anyone understands you, it’s me.”
Veronica glanced between me and Reggie. She gripped the doorknob so tightly, her knuckles turned white.
Without another word, she wrenched the door open and stumbled through it, slamming it so hard behind her, the floor vibrated.
I stared at Reggie’s purple robe swinging from a hook on the back of the door and tried to figure out what had just happened.
“Wow,” I said after a full minute, glancing at my roommate. “I guess she really wasn’t looking for any friends.”
“Should we go after her?”
“I don’t think so. I think this has less to do with us and more to do with her. I guess she’s not ready to face whatever it is that’s keeping her from reaching out to people. I can understand. I avoided reality for years.”
“Do you think she’ll tell your secret?”
“It’s not much of a secret anymore,” I said. “I wrote an e-mail to my agent and publicist explaining the situation, and I sent it off to them along with the first draft of the latest Viking Moon this morning. So there’s nothing left for her to tell. Guess that renders our deal useless. Mind you, I don’t think she’ll be contacting me for the rest of the money, the way she ran away just now. I don’t like her much, but I hope she’s okay.”
“Me too.” Reggie plopped down on her bed and pulled her legs under her. “And what about Gavin? Have you guys talked at all?”
“Not yet. I have my American Lit exam in a couple hours, so I need to focus on that first, but I’m going to fix this once I’m done. I haven’t quite figured out how, but I think it involves an insane amount of text messages and awkward groveling.”
“That sounds like heaps of fun.”
“Hopefully it’ll be worth it.” I walked to the closet and began pulling sweaters from the hangers. “Now, help me figure out what to wear.”
The Intro to American Lit exam took place in one of the larger halls, and I secured a spot on the aisle so I could leave the moment I was done. I glanced at the clock. I’d texted Gavin and asked him to meet me in the parking lot in two hours. He hadn’t replied yet, so I could only hope he was busy and hadn’t seen the message, as opposed to outright ignoring me. I said a little prayer to whoever watched over hot actors and begged them to get him there by the time the exam ended.
I tapped my pen against my leg as we waited for the TA to hand out the papers. Much to Duncan’s pleasure, I’d nailed my last essay, and my success or failure in the course wouldn’t be determined by this exam, but anxiousness still chewed away at my stomach like ants on a rotten apple. The students around me shifted and pointed at something and I followed their gazes to the back of the room.
A one-handed cowboy occupied most of the doorway.
Duncan had exempted Clint from the final exam, but I wasn’t surprised to see him here. The cowboy wasn’t one to take the easy way out.
I shifted one seat over and waved for him to join me. His stump was still bandaged, but his face was now fully visible. Angry pink and white scars surrounded his right eye and cheek. He moved slowly, as though every step took a staggering amount of energy. He leaned on a cane with his good hand.
Clint settled into the seat beside me and grinned. “Well, darlin’, looks like we made it to the end.”
“Looks like,” I said. “I can’t believe you came. Do you need a lift somewhere after?”
He shook his head. His hat sat crooked, angled above his scars. “Naw, Regina’s gotten real good at drivin’ my truck. She’s comin’ to get me and we’re headin’ to the diner. I can’t tell ya how happy I am to be out of the hospital. One more day of mushy peas and hamburger disguised as steak, and I was gonna jump out the window. I’m lookin’ forward to some good ol’ greasy eats.”
I laughed as a pile of papers landed on my desk. The TA gave me a stern look and I ducked my head.
Clint waved his hand over my exam.
“What?” I hissed. “Now that you’re here, we both still have to write this.”
“Oh, I know,” he said. “But would you by any chance have a pen?”
“That sounds like a horrible pickup line to me.”
“It is.” He grinned. “I tried it on this girl once and it didn’t work. Thank goodness. I think we were both destined for other people.”
“Me too,” I said. I lowered my chin onto my upturned palm. Well, Clint certainly belonged with someone else. My future in that area remained to be seen.
“So, the pen?”
“Right.”
I tossed him one of my extra pens and he flipped over his exam, resting the stump of his hand on the table.
I risked a look around the classroom. Not a single person stared or gave Clint a second glance. Perhaps he was right.
It really wasn’t his problem.
• • •
I finished the exam in record time and waved good-bye to Clint, who still bent over his paper. As I left the room, I fished out my cell phone and my heart sank when I saw I had zero messages.
Someone grabbed my arm as I was about to exit the building. I grinned when I saw who it was. “Duncan!”
“You got my name right for once. It only took the whole semester.”
I laughed. “Yeah. It still feels weird to say, but I guess I’ll get used to it. After all, I signed up for your class again next semester. American Lit: The Second Coming. Love the course title, by the way.”
“Wonderful. I can’t wait to read more of your writing. Anyway, I wanted to tell you that, while I don’t think I’m your target audience, I thoroughly enjoyed the Viking Moon series.”
Heat radiated up my body and I took a step back. “You read them?”
“Every single one. When can we expect the next one?”
I thought back to the e-mail I’d sent that morning. “It’s been written, but whether they’ll still want to release it will be up to the publisher. I came clean to my agent this morning.” I was actually shocked I hadn’t heard from her already with one of her usual long-winded text messages or e-mails. I wasn’t sure whether that was a good or a bad thing.
“Good for you. And, like I told
you before, a good book is a good book. Who knows, perhaps we’ll be side by side on the new release shelf.” He winked.
“Does this mean you finished your new book?”
“Sent it off a few days ago,” he said. “I actually want to thank you, Elise. You’ve been a great source of inspiration.”
I took a step back. “Me? Inspire you?”
“Yes.” He reached into his briefcase. “In fact, I have a favor to ask. When I visited my daughter over Thanksgiving, I mentioned you to her. As it turns out, she’s a big fan of your books. She asked if I might get you to sign this. What do you say?”
Duncan handed me a battered copy of the first Viking Moon. The cover was slightly torn, and the corners were ridged where they had been bent to mark pages over the years. I opened it to the title page, and grinned when I saw the girly script of a teenager in the top corner. Property of Carolyn Creed. Duncan held a pen out to me.
I bent over the book and placed the pen to the page. Then I stopped. Duncan tapped my wrist and I glanced up. “Is something wrong?” he asked.
“No,” I said. “I just realized this is the first time I’ve ever signed a copy of my own book. For so long, I pretended someone else wrote them. I’m not even sure what my signature should look like.”
He beamed. “My daughter will be ecstatic to know she has the first signed copy in history. Take your time. This is an important moment.”
I inhaled deeply, then began to write:
Dear Carolyn,
Thank you for being a fan and for believing in me. Your father is an inspiration. Without him and his work, this book would not exist. He taught me I could follow my dreams. Let him teach you the same.
Much love,
Aubrey Lynch
I handed the book back to Duncan, and he scanned the note. His eyes misted behind his glasses, and he dabbed at his face with his sleeve.
“Too much?” I asked. “I’ve never done that before.”
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