by A. J. Wynter
Adam rolled his eyes. “Just watch the movie Sabryna. It doesn’t have to make sense.” A brief thought crossed my mind—that Nate probably would have liked my comment, would have loved to have had a twenty-minute-long discussion about time travel paradoxes—but I pushed it out of my mind as fast as I could. The comparisons needed to stop.
I snuggled into Adam’s chest and closed my eyes...I was still sleepy from last night. As much as Cristina had pushed me to tell him, I just couldn’t. I had told him I was with Eliza, she had covered for me, and everything had been fine.
“Can I use your computer to check my email?” I asked, and Adam nodded. I stretched out and made my way over to the small desk in the corner and logged in. Within a list of spam and article links from my dad was one email that stood out. I read over the subject heading about ten times before opening the email. It was too good to be true. It had to be a mistake, some sort of joke. There was no way. I took a deep breath and clicked. Then I screamed.
“Jesus, Sabryna,” Adam said, jumping out of his stupor. “What is it?”
“I got the Economics Fellowship!” I practically squealed. “Oh my god. Oh my god. I can’t believe it! Me! I got the—“
“Don’t they only give that to seniors?” Adam interrupted.
“Well it’s usually seniors, but it can go to anyone,” I explained. Excitement ran through my veins, and it felt like nothing in the world could stop me now. “Do you know what this means?” I said, grinning as I hopped back on the bed next to Adam. “It means I’m going to London!”
“Oh cool, like a trip?”
“No,” I said, my face still beaming. “It means I get to go to the London School of Economics graduate program when I finish undergrad here. Full. Paid. Tuition.” I squealed and practically collapsed on the bed. “This is my dream. Studying economics in a big city like London. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted.” Adam stared at me blankly, his initial excitement draining from his face.
“What about the wedding?” Adam said. “We were supposed to get engaged the summer after graduation, remember? And I can’t move to London, especially if I want to work somewhere in my dad’s company.”
“Oh,” I said, feeling my heart sag a bit at this realization. “Can’t we wait a year or two to get married?”
“What?”
“I mean...” I stuttered. “We’re so young. We’d still get married...just at like...twenty-four instead of twenty-two.”
Adam stared at me, looking hurt.
“It’s not for sure yet, Adam,” I said, trying my best to comfort him. “I mean I just got the email. We have a year and a half of school left. There’s a lot of time and a lot of decisions to be made.”
Adam scoffed. “But me and you...getting engaged? That’s a decision we both already made. We have to work around it.”
“We are working around it!” I said. “Is getting engaged the second we graduate really that important to you? As important as me getting full tuition at one of the best economics programs in the world?”
“It’s not that, exactly...” Adam said. “It’s that once you leave, you won’t want to come back. You’ll get a job in London or want to get your doctorate or something and then being married to me will seem like the most boring thing in the world.”
“I want to be married to you, Adam,” I said, pleading. “But I also want to pursue my dreams. I want to have both. Marriage is about compromise, and—”
“Well right now, it sounds like this marriage is going to be all about you,” Adam said with a grimace. “Maybe you should leave now, Sabryna.”
I tried to keep myself from crying as I grabbed my things and turned towards the door. “I thought we could be happy about this together,” I said under my breath, stopping to look at him.
“That would be nice,” Adam said, and I shut the door behind me.
Chapter Seven
It was a strange and surprisingly restful night. I had crashed back at my own dorm room, clothes still on, and had woken up at six in the morning to smudges of cried-off mascara on my hands. The events of yesterday came rushing back, and I knew that there was no going back to sleep now.
I pulled myself out of bed and put on a pair of gray sweatpants and a pink tank top. I wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone right now, so I figured I’d go to Daisy’s, where I wouldn’t chance running into Cristina after her early morning swim practice. I was also craving one of their chocolate almond croissants.
I put my headphones into my ears and meandered down the road. I had crashed pretty soon after my fight with Adam, so I hadn’t really had much time to process it. It was easier to think about now that yesterday was officially behind me. I felt very solitary, walking down the road before the rest of the campus had woken up. I was on bad terms with Adam, I was on bad terms with Nate...and there was no decision I could ever make about my life that would make both of them happy. I would have to choose.
Choose? I think for a moment, as I turn the corner. What do you mean, choose? I had made my choice a long time ago. I had picked Adam. I had committed myself to him. Choosing Nate over him would be ridiculous.
But what if Nate was right? Was I letting myself down by being with someone who didn’t believe in my dreams as much as I did? I couldn’t imagine giving up the opportunity to study in London. Should I put my foot down? Would Adam forgive me if I did?
I reached Daisy’s and opened up the door. The place was mostly empty this time of morning, with only a few people scattered around the various tables, busy at their newspapers or their laptops. I would get to be alone. I ordered a large coffee and my long-coveted chocolate almond croissant and made my way to a table in the corner. I pulled my copy of Finnegan’s Wake out of my bag, figuring I’d get a head start on my reading for class. I was about two pages in when I sensed the presence of someone in front of me, and looked up.
“You’re up early,” came a deep voice above my head, and I found myself looking into Nate’s hazel eyes.
“Hey,” I said softly, and gestured for him to take the empty seat across from me. “You’re looking weirdly awake for six thirty in the morning.”
“Still awake, actually,” Nate said and winked.
I rolled my eyes at him. “You’re gonna kill yourself with that sleep schedule.”
“Perhaps,” Nate said. He was wearing a gray sweater and jeans, and looked terribly...snuggly, I guess. “I’m lucky to have found you here, Sabryna,” he said, looking up at me softly. “I’ve been meaning to apologize to you. About what I said about Adam and everything. That was...well it was a dick move, is what it is. You’re a smart person, you know who you are, and you can make your own choices. I’m sorry if I upset you.”
“I’m glad you did, actually,” I said, staring into my cup of coffee. “Everything you said...it’s really been making me think.”
“It has?”
“Well, I didn’t think that much of it,” I said, biting my lip. “But I got the Economics Fellowship, and—”
“Wait, that Economics Fellowship? The one where they pay for you to study in London?”
“Yeah, and—“
“Sabryna, oh my god. That’s incredible! Do you know what a huge deal it is to be a junior and get awarded that fellowship? That’s practically unheard of!” Nate was practically jumping out of his seat. “That’s amazing! Can I hug you? I’m gonna hug you.” Nate came over to my side of the table and swept me up in his arms, and I sighed at the softness of his gray sweater and the soapy, musky scent of him. I found it hard to let go.
“Yes, well...” I started.
“What?” Nate said. “Is there a reason why you can’t go?”
“Well,” I said, already feeling guilty that I was telling Nate about my problems with Adam. “I was with Adam when I got the email last night, and he didn’t take it too well.”
“Like how?”
“He’s always been very insistent on us getting married and settling down immediately after graduation...and of course L
ondon would interfere with that...”
“You can’t get married after London?”
“That’s what I said, but...I don’t know.” I picked at my croissant. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. I can’t miss this opportunity. I think I might have to tell Adam that I’m going...no matter what.”
I caught Nate trying to cover up a hint of a smile. “I’m proud of you, Sabryna. I can tell how hard you work. You deserve this more than anyone.”
“Thanks,” I said shyly. I hadn’t had much time to be thrilled about the fellowship yet...I was still too busy dealing with all of its emotional repercussions. Soon, I would have to face Adam. “I don’t really want to talk about it right now,” I told Nate. “What’s up with you today?”
“Baking,” Nate said.
“What?”
“It’s for the fundraiser luncheon thing this weekend. You know where they get all of the parents and wealthy alumni drunk on champagne and then try to siphon as much cash off of them as possible? Well this year to save money, they’re making all the TA’s make the desserts, believe it or not.”
“That’s risky,” I said, laughing.
“I think they’re hoping the alumni will be too drunk to notice,” Nate joked with a raise of his left eyebrow. “Anyway, I have to make like, three hundred cookies today.”
“Can I help?” I asked.
“I mean, sure, but why? Don’t you have stuff to do?”
“Not really,” I said. “Besides, I owe you for helping with my Fitzgerald essay, and I’m trying to actively avoid everyone I know today.”
“Okay then,” Nate said. “I’ll meet you at the fraternity house on 5th street at two?”
“I’ll be there,” I said, and smiled at Nate as he walked away.
When he was gone, and I was left at the table alone with the remnants of my croissant and my book, I realized I missed him.
***
I tried to pretend I was wearing the red dress because it was the first thing I randomly grabbed out of my closet, but that wasn’t the case. It was a bright, flouncy, sort of number that always got me double takes when I wore it. It smoothed out and flattered my curves, making me feel sexy and romantic. It made me feel like I could be pulled into a spontaneous tango by a handsome stranger at any second, where bystanders would marvel at the waves of scarlet fabric spreading out from my waist.
Okay, so this was a dress I wore to impress men. Adam, specifically. But today I was wearing it to impress Nate, and I knew it too. I told myself I was just doing this to get back at Adam, but I liked Nate. I wanted him to want me. It didn’t mean I had to want him back. It was just baking. I didn’t want anything to happen. Nope. Not me.
I threw on my coat and braced myself against the chilly early spring wind as I made my way to the fraternity house. The beginning of the week was chilly, but it was supposed to warm up considerably for the fundraiser this weekend. I reached the house and knocked on the door apprehensively. I was a bit nervous about the house being filled with rowdy frat boys.
To my relief, only Nate opened the door, still clad in his gray sweater and jeans, and the house sounded empty and deserted. “Hey,” Nate said. “I can’t believe you actually came.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” I said.
“I don’t know,” Nate said shyly, “I guess I figured a girl who won the Economics Fellowship as a junior would have better things to do than help me bake cookies.”
“Ha ha,” I said sarcastically as I peeled off my coat. When Nate turned around, he froze.
“Wow,” Nate said, his eyes widening. “That’s um...that’s a...that dress looks great on you.”
“Thanks,” I said, trying to act casual, when in fact I was pretty giddy about the fact that I just blew his damn mind. “Let’s get started.”
Nate led me to the kitchen of the frat house, where grocery bags full of baking ingredients were lying on the counter. “Sorry this kitchen is a bit of mess,” Nate said. “My friend who is in the fraternity is letting me use it, and frat guys are well...not the best housekeepers.” He wasn’t kidding. The kitchen had a bit of a rotting smell, and seemed to contain more sports equipment than cookware. Nate grabbed a cookbook out of his bag and laid it on the table. “These are just your typical, no-nonsense chocolate chip cookies, so they shouldn’t be too hard. It’s making this many of them that’s going to be the tricky part.”
“Got it,” I said. I opened one of the cabinets, and shockingly, there were a couple of aprons stacked in a neat pile, probably left over from the house’s previous tenant. I put one on over my dress and threw another to Nate. “We can come up with a system,” I said, examining the recipe. “I can measure the ingredients out and separate them by batch, and then you can start mixing the batter, then we can divide them into batches and bake them.”
“Damn, you’re a pro,” Nate said. “Let’s get started.”
Nate opened up the windows to let some air in, and I switched on the dial of the clock radio in the corner. The frat house was old, probably at least Victorian, and I felt like the spirit that dwelled inside its old walls was smiling at the fact that something was happening inside it that for once was not drunken frat boy shenanigans.
I couldn’t believe how happy and relaxed I already felt, despite all the drama of the day before. An uplifting old swing tune was crackling through the radio, and Nate kept giving me smiles that made my insides jump. I had figured out a system of measuring and mixing that would get us the best results in the least amount of time, and I settled into a pattern. I was enjoying sifting and measuring flour and counting out chocolate chips more than I thought I would—it had been ages since I had done any hard work that didn’t involve me using the full powers of my brain. There was something very meditative about the whole thing.
Nate pulled the first batch of cookies out of the oven, and the smell was heavenly. I meandered over to the counter and watched as the cookies expanded and then sunk back down as they cooled off.
“No one is going to miss two cookies, right?” I asked.
Nate smiled. “Nah,” he said, and used a spatula to lift one onto a napkin for me. “So that’s one batch finished, how many do we have left?”
I grimaced. “We’re barely ten percent done.”
Nate shrugged. “Oh well,” he said. “I guess we’ll have to speed up a bit.”
I took my half-eaten cookie over to the table and began measuring, sorting, and mixing the ingredients at an even quicker speed. As the minutes stacked up, I felt the muscles in my arms become almost automatic as I sorted out ingredients and mixed them into more batches of dough. Nate seemed to be of the same mindset, and we settled into a comfortable silence as we worked at our separate stations. The batches of cookies following the initial one took less and less time as we perfected our system, and soon we were down to mixing up the last batch of cookie dough. Finally, our concentration was starting to waver. I wondered if there was any coffee around.
I yawned as I went to bring a bowl of leftover flour over to the sink. Suddenly, I felt my shoe hit the leg of the kitchen table and tripped, sending the flour bowl flying towards Nate. I caught myself by grabbing onto one of the chairs and looked up, horrified to see that the flour had landed all over Nate’s dark jeans.
“Shit, shit, shit,” I said, getting up and grabbing some paper towels. “I am so sorry, I—“
I felt something hit me in the back.
I turned around to see Nate practically giggling behind his flour covered hands. “Whoops,” he said, as I turned around in shock to see my flour-covered backside.
“Oh no,” I said, shaking my head and slowly approaching Nate. “That was a mistake, Nate Wilson. You don’t know what you’ve started.”
“I don’t?” he challenged.
I grinned and grabbed a bowl of chocolate chips off of the counter. “Now, it’s war.” Nate pretended to scream as I pelted him with chocolate chips. I giggled in mock horror as Nate scooped up some of the flour that had fallen to
the ground and flicked it at me. Our determination to get the cookies done had broken at the eleventh hour and turned into flat-out silliness, and we were both beyond caring at this point.
Just as I was about to turn around and grab more chocolate chips, I felt a hand clutch my waist, and I froze.
I looked up to see Nate’s hazel eyes smiling as he looked down at me, as he slowly took his other, flour-bleached hand and ran it tentatively through my hair. He looked at me again, with complete sincerity this time, as if asking me permission.
I granted it.
I wrapped my arms around Nate and pulled him in, practically sighing as I felt his arms clasp tighter around me. There was no pause, no break to acknowledge the line we had both just crossed with such impunity...perhaps we were too scared. I felt Nate’s lips continue to move against mine as we moved up against the wall of the kitchen. We were scared to break apart, scared to end the kiss and return to a reality where the two of us just did not make sense.
But eventually, we needed air, and we did.
“Sabryna—, “Nate said, and stopped, as if he realized that he would never find the right words.
“I should go,” I said, gathering up my things. “The last batch of batter is on the table, it should just take twenty minutes to bake, and I um, I just—“
“I understand,” Nate said. “I’ll see you at the fundraiser?”
“Sure,” I said, and rushed out the door without looking back.
I sped across the campus green back to my door, feeling more alive than I could ever remember feeling.
***
Oh god. Okay. So that happened.
I was sitting up on my bed in my dorm room after dinner, attempting to read from one of my textbooks without any luck. Any hope I had of concentrating had disappeared hours ago. It almost shocked me how Eliza sat across the room from me, absorbed in a homework assignment and a bag of nacho cheese Doritos, as if the entire world had not just undergone a monumental shift.