“Well, it’s a good thing we have them on private, isn’t it?” I give her a smile and then pull her into a hug.
“I don’t know what I would do without you, Vivian Clark.”
“Well, it’s a good thing we’ll never have to find out,” she replies, tightening the hug.
Fall at Your Feet
Since the night of the kickback, I’ve been hanging out with Jess most days after our class together and even during our spare time. Viv is convinced we’re dating, but she just doesn’t get our dynamic. For the first two weeks of us hanging out, warding off the rumors was hard. We couldn’t even eat lunch together without people whispering about our supposed relationship, but everything started to die down once Jess got back to his usual ways. I swear he’s been with five different girls this week alone.
I think a part of the reason he’s been so adventurous lately is because of me. He knows how I hate attention being focused on me, so he decided to give them something else to gossip about. Show people that we’re genuinely just two people who enjoy the company of one another, purely platonic.
I never really imagined that Jess could become a staple in the chaotic mess I call my life, but I’ve come to realize that if he weren’t in it, I would miss him.
I’m surprised how close we’ve become in such a short period, but there will always be something lingering between us: the fact that I will never be able to truly open up to him.
Thinking about him finding out scares me. I’m scared of how he’ll look at me; will he still see Eleanor Ivy, or a criminal’s daughter who dates men for cash? A part of me hates Jess for making me feel this way, so vulnerable. Now that I’ve let him in, I know how much it would hurt to lose him, so he can never find out.
“Can you hurry up already? I want to get to the dining hall before next year is over,” Jess yells out through the bedroom door.
I hurriedly search my bedroom for my white blouse, but have no luck. I must have left it at Dylan’s last night. Whoever said old habits die hard really knew what they were talking about.
“I can’t find my shirt. Jess, just hold on,” I yell in response as I grab a long-sleeved cream shirt from my drawer. I hastily look into the floor-length mirror and pull open the door to greet an annoyed Jess.
“Finally! I’ve been waiting for over twenty minutes. Is it really that hard to get ready?” He says it all with a smile on his face, so I know he isn’t really annoyed, but a small part of me feels a bit bad.
“Sorry. I didn’t sleep at home last night and desperately needed a shower before we got lunch,” I say with an apologetic shrug.
We hastily exit my apartment and descend the stairs. That’s when the questions start pouring in.
“So, were you out with what’s-his-face last night?” Jess asks with a mischievous smile as he runs his hands through his hair. I can’t help but notice how well his T-shirt outlines his perfect physique, but quickly divert my attention before he catches me staring.
Jess knows I’m not big on talking about the whole Dylan Scott topic, especially after I’ve seen him. It’s not that I don’t like Dylan or that I don’t have fun with him; I just don’t want anything serious.
“If you mean was I with Dylan, then yes, Jess, I was. Before you say it, yes, I am aware that I always say I’m not going to do it, but I’m a big girl and I can make my own decisions.” I don’t mean for it to come off as harshly as it does, but now that I’ve said it, it’s too late to take back.
“Wow, someone is especially moody today,” Jess says as we get into his truck. I know he doesn’t mean it in a mean way, yet I can’t help but feel hostile toward him. One thing I appreciate about our friendship is that Jess honestly doesn’t care whom I’m with, and the same goes with me. We can tell one another almost anything and get the other’s honest, unbiased opinion, but the downside is that opinion comes when it’s not always wanted.
“Sorry, I just really didn’t sleep well at Dylan’s last night. He kept trying to get me to go out with him again, and it just made me realize why I stay away.” I pull out my phone to make sure I have no missed texts or calls from Viv. I almost always call her if I’m not coming home, but I forgot to last night.
“Well,” Jess says, which draws my attention away from my phone, “you know I don’t judge, Els. I’m just looking out for you.”
He reaches over and takes my hand in his. An apologetic smile reaches my face as I look over at him. “I know, Jess. Thanks.”
I use my free hand to change the radio station, and “Maps” by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs comes on.
“Great song,” Jess mutters, then begins to softly sing the lyrics to himself.
I can’t help but look at him as he sings with Karen O to the anthem I loved all throughout high school. A huge smile spreads across my face as I watch him. He’s so engrossed with the song that he doesn’t even notice I’m looking.
As the song continues, I find myself softly joining in at the chorus, feeling all the emotion pour out of her words and into the car. The emotion in this song silently kills me, because I know I’m never going to have a love as strong as the one in this song. A love so strong that if it ends, the person feels broken. If I ever told someone the truth, how would they see me? How could anyone love someone who’s done the things I’ve done? The intensity of my thoughts momentarily paralyzes me with sadness as my gaze drifts out the window.
“Hey?” Jess’s voice cuts through my fog like a blade, and I quickly snap out of my morbid thoughts.
Jess squeezes my hand before continuing. “You okay, Els?” His voice is laced with concern but also slight curiosity.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I lie. I give him a reassuring smile, which he returns.
“It’s a great song. You like the Yeah Yeah Yeahs?”
“They’re great. I used to listen to them a lot in high school.” I shrug, not offering up any more information. As if sensing there’s more to it, Jess gives my hand another reassuring squeeze but doesn’t push the topic.
“You know what, Eleanor Ivy? I think I’m going to make you a mixtape,” he says in an attempt to lighten the mood.
“A mixtape? How 2000s of you, Jess Parker.” I laugh.
“Oh, don’t mock the mixtape, Els. You have no idea how good my mixtapes are. Get ready to have your world rocked.”
“And here I was thinking you did something else to rock a girl’s world. Good to know it’s secretly a mixtape that does it,” I tease.
“Oh, Eleanor, I don’t just make a mixtape for anyone. But…” He pauses to look at me. “…if you want me to rock your world the other way, all you have to do is ask.”
I roll my eyes and blast the radio, which is now playing Marvin Gaye’s “Sexual Healing.”
Oh, how fitting.
The cafeteria is packed with students, who have luckily toned down the whispers since Jess’s newest lady friend, Lissa, told everyone about their recent escapades. I have to give the girl credit; she sure knows how to spread shit faster than wildfire.
“Ellie!” Viv drops her lunch tray on the table. “I’m so done with eating in this place! I know the guys like it here, but I just don’t think I can deal with ‘mystery meat Monday’ for one more second.” Viv huffs as she pokes at the mysterious food on her tray while Will, Jess, and I stifle laughter.
“Sorry, babe, but Jess and I have to bulk up for hockey. I’m gonna take what I can get,” Will says as he digs into his tray, which I’m assuming has ten pounds of food on it.
“So, what were you two doing this morning? Why were you so late?” Viv asks as she pushes her food away with a sour look.
Jess raises his eyebrows and doesn’t bother to hide his smile. “I’ll let Eleanor take this one,” he says, not taking his gaze off of me.
Immediately, Viv and Will look up from their food and eye me curiously. I feel my face turn a deep shade of rouge and attempt to look anywhere but at them. Viv leans across the table as if that will make me talk, and Jess nudges my arm.
> “Ellie?” Viv says now with a hint of curiosity. “Why were you late?”
“I was at Dylan’s.” I lift my head up, deciding this will only be bad if I let it.
“Oh my god, Ellie! Why didn’t you tell me?” Viv squeals as Will becomes distracted by his phone, clearly having no interest in where this conversation is going.
“It just happened, Viv, and I didn’t have time,” I say with a shrug.
At that moment, my phone goes off. I look down to see the number, and the name Brando appears on the screen. Great, just what I need right now, a call from Roger. I ignore the call and focus on my plate.
“Aren’t you gonna get that?” Jess asks.
“No, it’s fine. They can leave a message,” I say, wishing we were talking about anything else.
My phone rings again, and Brando appears on the screen once more, causing my anxiety to heighten. I can tell the guys are curious why I’m ignoring these calls, so I retreat back to our previous conversation in order to divert attention.
I tell Viv all about how my meet-up with Dylan isn’t anything serious and probably won’t happen again. Viv wants all the steamy details, but truthfully, there aren’t any. There isn’t a romantic story about how Dylan rode to my house in a horse-drawn carriage and asked to be mine or had a romantic display to show his love for me.
In reality, it was pretty simple. I ran into him at Viper, and we went home together.
I finally turn to Jess and roll my eyes. “Was that all necessary, Jess? I’m really not in the mood to recount my nighttime activities to a whole lunchroom right now.”
He shrugs. “Sorry, Els. What can I say? Better you than me.”
“Since when are you one to shy away from the dirty details, Jess?” I nudge him in the side.
He wraps his arm over my shoulder and whispers in my ear, “Since I met you.”
My face freezes, and I swear all the color drains from it. I’m left staring Jess in the eyes as he looks at me seriously.
He cannot be serious right now. Can he?
Suddenly, Jess cracks a smile and begins to laugh. “Jesus, Eleanor, you need to chill. I’m kidding. But good to know the thought of me being into you scares the shit out of you,” he says through another chuckle.
“God, Jess!” I hit him across the arm. “You know I don’t mean it like that, but don’t play with me like that! It freaks me out,” I say, trying to hide my smile.
“Sorry, Els. You know I love you, just not in that way.” He pulls me closer to him.
“Uh-huh,” is all I can get out before some blonde in a miniskirt walks by. Jess automatically releases me and begins talking to her. I feel a small amount of possessiveness creep up over him, but I push it down. It’s only complications. The next thing I know, Jess is packing up his things and saying his goodbyes without actually looking at any of us. His attention is fully focused on the nameless blonde with the double Ds.
“Gotta go, guys. I have some, uh, business to attend to.” The blonde giggles as Jess takes her hand to lead her out of the cafeteria.
I decide to leave ten minutes after Jess, all the schoolwork I need to do clouding my mind. Finally exiting the cafeteria, I can breathe fresh air again and not the scent of tater tots and hot wings. My stomach is growling because I didn’t eat lunch, but I have a killer ten-page paper due tomorrow for my biology class, so I really don’t have time to think about food.
As I cut across the main courtyard to get to the parking lot, I hear someone yelling my name.
“Hey, Ives, wait up!”
Exhausted and not really feeling like talking, I pick up my pace, knowing who is calling after me. Only one person calls me Ives, no matter how much I insist on being called Eleanor.
Noticing that if I keep going at this pace, I’ll be in a slight jog, I slow down and reluctantly turn around, sweeping my hair out of my face.
Dylan slows to a stop, catching his breath before me. “Ives! I’ve been calling out your name. Didn’t you hear me?” he asks with a confused grin.
“Sorry, Dylan. I was kind of off in my own world,” I lie.
“No problem,” he says, showing off his million-dollar smile.
I flash a brief smile and look at him questioningly, urging him to go on with what he wants to talk to me about.
“You left your top at my house last night. I was gonna bring it to give to you, but I didn’t know if I would see you today, so it’s still at my house. You can pick it up anytime.” He’s clearly trying to make conversation, but that’s the last thing I have time for right now.
“Thanks, Dylan. I’ll come by sometime this week to get it, but I can’t really stay and chat right now. I have to start on the paper for our bio class, or else I’m positive I’m going to flunk.” I give him the best smile I can come up with and head toward the parking lot.
“Wait, Eleanor.” Jesus, this boy is really not understanding the obvious right now. I halt in my tracks and let out an exhausted breath.
“Yes, Dylan?”
“I finished the paper already. If you want, I could help you flesh out your ideas.” He pauses. “Maybe over coffee at Dina’s?” His smile has changed from smug to sincere, and now I feel rude for being so dismissive to him.
“That’s really kind of you to offer, Dylan, but I’m sure you have a better place to be than spending your afternoon helping me out.” I give him a final smile and prepare to walk away, but he reaches for my arm before I can turn.
“Eleanor, I want to.” The genuine tone in his voice is touching, and I find myself unable to refuse. And anyway, I was probably just going to make Viv help me out, so it might as well be someone who actually wants to.
“Okay, well, if you insist,” I say. “As long as you let me buy you lunch at Dina’s.”
Dina’s is a local diner in Cambridge that a lot of Breslin students go to because it’s famous for its chocolate-chip pancakes. I have to give it to Dina’s; the food there is pretty amazing.
A huge grin spreads across his face. “You have yourself a deal, Ives.”
“Okay, so just to make sure I have this correct. There are six stages of mitosis: interphase, prophase, metaphase, anaphase, and telophase?” I say hopefully.
“Yes! Ladies and gentlemen, we have a biology genius right here!” Dylan yells to the diner.
Heat floods my face and I duck my head, but not before forcing him to sit back down. We’ve been going over the basics of cell division for the past hour, and it’s finally starting to make sense. Writing a paper about something I understand will be a million times easier than having to Wikipedia everything every ten seconds.
“Okay, we need a celebratory dessert in honor of your smartness. Dorothy!” He signals to our waitress. “We’ll have one hot fudge sundae, please!”
I laugh. “Dylan, we’ve just had chocolate-chip pancakes for lunch. I don’t think we need any more sugar.”
“Oh, come on, Ives. I know you can’t resist dessert.”
The way he says dessert has me questioning if he’s really talking about the ice cream or something else, but I decide to give the guy the benefit of the doubt. And he does have a point; I have a sweet tooth bigger than Willy Wonka’s. I roll my eyes and give a relenting shrug.
“Okay, now time for a break,” Dylan says as he moves my books to the other end of our booth. “What have you been up to the past few months, Ives? Anything interesting?” I think he means anyone, but he would never be so straightforward.
There’s been a whole lot of interesting, but nothing I can tell you.
“Not really. I’ve just been working and hanging out. What about you? How was London?” I ask, trying to turn the attention on him. Not that it should be too hard—if there’s one thing Dylan Scott loves to do, it’s talk about himself.
“London was incredible; you would have loved it. The architecture is insane. I’m thinking about moving there when I finish here at Breslin.” Dylan wants to be an architect, so I’m sure London would be a great fit for him.<
br />
“That’s amazing, Dylan. What kind of things did you do while you were there?” I ask, knowing the question will keep us preoccupied for a while. And it does. Thirty minutes later, he’s still on about the department store Harrods.
“And the food is incred—”
Dylan’s phone rings just in time, interrupting his rant on the superiority of English food. “Oh, just give me one second, Ives. I need to take this.” He excuses himself out the back.
As I wait for Dylan to take his call, I look around Dina’s. To most people, this old diner wouldn’t be considered much with its peeling mustard wallpaper and pale-yellow plastic booths, but I love it here. The images of 1950s waitresses on the walls add to its character, along with the light-up sign out front that usually has the light out behind the I so it says D na’s Diner. Some newbies in town actually think it’s called DNA’s Diner, like human DNA.
I’ve been coming to Dina’s since I began at Breslin. It used to just be where Viv and I came after work, but over the years, it has become somewhere I can go when I need to decompress and be alone with my thoughts.
As my appreciation for this place continues, the door of Dina’s swings opens. In walks Jess with the same blonde from lunch. He spots me immediately and whispers something in the blonde’s ear, who proceeds to go sit down while Jess walks toward me.
“Els, what are you doing here?” He eyes the sundae in front of me. “Treating yourself?” He chuckles with raised eyebrows.
For some reason, his implication that I’m eating alone annoys me, and I feel the need to set him straight.
“Not exactly, Jess. I’m here with someone,” I say flatly. At that statement, his eyebrows crease and he looks around the room curiously.
Before he can ask who, Dylan walks back over and eyes Jess carefully.
“Parker,” he nods.
The amount of testosterone in the room is overwhelming, and I find myself annoyed at the guys’ sudden hostility toward one another. The dynamics of Jess Parker and Dylan Scott are completely different, with Dylan being the perfect guy who clearly shows off all of his wealth and Jess being the sexy player who even though he has money, doesn’t necessarily show it.
Brief Encounters_The Encounters Series Page 7