by A. J. Wynter
For me, it had.
The words on the pages of the book in front of me blurred before my eyes as I replayed the kiss over and over again. It was as if I could still feel Nate’s hand on my waist...his lips pressing against mine. It was amazing...it was the best kiss I had ever had, and yet...
...and yet it was best to pretend it had never happened.
I had a boyfriend, and I had kissed another man...and what was worse, I had liked it. I mean I had really, really liked it. I had liked it enough that it was making me rethink my entire relationship with Adam in the first place. If I married him, I would never experience that kind of passion again...that rush I felt when Nate had pressed me up against the wall of the kitchen and kissed me like I was the only thing he could ever want. And, as much as I loved Adam, as much as he was a central part of my life, I had realized over the past few months that my dreams of furthering my education were not important to him...and I wasn’t sure exactly how I would live with that.
I laid down on my bed and stared up at the white brick of my dorm room ceiling. What would life with Adam be like in comparison to life with Nate? If I stayed with Adam, he would want me to settle down with him immediately, and put my dreams on hold....my life would be more of a closed book. But with Nate, that future was open...it was a future that held London, and success, and a life that would challenge me for as long as I dared it...
...And that was a little scary. Did I want safe, or did I want risk? But I was committed...did I even have a choice?
I imagined the two different scenarios playing out in my head. I thought about breaking off my relationship with Adam and running off to live with Nate in his tiny apartment...I imagined the long nights Nate and I would spend curled up on his futon as he helped me study for exams, how he would drive me to the airport to send me to London, cheering me on and promising he’d wait. I thought of marrying Adam in his small Rhode Island town, of the security and confidence of a good future. I imagined the sunlight coming through the windows of our house as babies rolled across the carpet. It was safe, and it was what I had said I wanted.
But when I fell asleep, it was Nate that I was dreaming of.
Chapter Eight
I woke up on the Saturday morning of the fundraiser luncheon to find completely flawless weather...it was the first real day of Spring, the first day of the year where Winter finally releases its grasp and lets some real sunshine in. It looked like our school was in luck...there was nothing like Spring fever to get people to pull their checkbooks out of their pockets.
I felt a twinge of nervousness as I rolled out of bed. As the economics fellowship winner, I was required to attend, as was Nate because he was a TA. And of course, Adam would be there with his parents, who were some of the school’s top donors. It was the long-awaited meeting of unavoidable fates...a fact I tried to ignore as I picked out a sundress.
I settled on a white dress with a light sunflower print and gold sandals. I didn’t have to be at the luncheon for another hour, when Adam would come to my dorm room to pick me up. He had emailed me earlier to apologize for our disagreement, and I had forgiven him. Notably, he hadn’t mentioned anything about changing his mind about London.
I opened my econ stat textbook, figuring that the facts and figures would help me calm down before what would inevitably be a stressful day. Adam’s parents always made me a little nervous, and made me feel like any mistake I made was the end of the world. Was I supposed to talk to Nate? Would Nate bring up the fact that we had spent all day yesterday making cookies for the luncheon...and that we...well, we did a little more than that. Would Nate be upset seeing me with Adam? Did it matter?
Was this the moment I would finally have to choose?
I heard a knock on the door just as I closed my textbook. “Come in!” I yelled, and Adam opened the door a second later.
“Hey,” he said, coming over to wrap me in a hug. “Sabryna, I’m sorry about the other day. I really am.” He was dressed in a classy-looking button down, dress pants, and brown leather shoes—he always dressed this nice when his parents were going to be around.
“It’s alright,” I said, looking up at him hopefully. “Does that mean you’ve changed your mind about London?”
Adam sighed and looked down at the floor, as if he was getting tired of explaining something simplistic to a child. “It’s not something we have to worry about quite yet.”
“So...no,” I said, the disappointment sinking in. “Can we at least discuss it more?”
“Sure,” Adam said, but I could tell he wasn’t very open to the idea. “Anyway, things are fine now. It’s a beautiful day, my parents have driven in from Rhode Island, and there’s tons of free food. We may as well enjoy it.”
“Very true,” I said, kissing him on the cheek. “Let’s go.”
We strolled outside to the campus green to find it completely transformed. Instead of the usual scene of kids lying down studying and throwing footballs, it looked like a party for the rich and famous. Tents had been put up around the green, each one covered in tiny strands of golden string lights. Caterers were set up under some of the tents, putting food onto trays and passing them onto servers in champagne-colored waistcoats, and a string quartet was playing under a nearby tree. Professors, TA’s, donors, and a few lucky students like myself were standing in groups chatting and sipping flutes of champagne. It looked heavenly. So heavenly, in fact, that campus security was standing around the party, making sure that no opportunistic students who weren’t supposed to be there could sneak in for free food.
There was also a humble dessert table, covered in stacks of brownies, cupcakes, and a very familiar looking stack of chocolate chip cookies. I felt my stomach turn.
“Adam! Sabryna! There you are!” came the lilting voice of Adam’s mother from across the lawn. Security didn’t even check us as we came into the tents. Adam and his family were that much of a big deal at this school.
We strolled over to Mr. and Mrs. Abrams in the corner of the tent, where they smiled at us and handed us flutes of champagne.
“Sabryna! How are you?” Mrs. Abrams asked, pulling me into a suffocating hug. She wore a light green pantsuit and a white hat. “Congratulations on the economics fellowship darling. We really are proud of you, right, James?”
Mr. Abrams smiled and nodded. He was a silent, intellectual type, and was happy to let his wife do all of the talking and socializing for him. I had always been more comfortable with him than I had been with her. I always got the sense with Mrs. Abrams that she was watching my every move, waiting for something that could be used to her advantage. Behind her kindness was a steely and manipulative behavior.
Mr. Abrams looked Adam up and down approvingly. “I assume you’re keeping up with your studies?” he said, more like a threat than a question.
“Of course,” Adam said, looking down to cover the lie. Cristina had told me that she had seen some of the tests and papers he got back in their shared business classes...and the results were not good—certainly not Abrams-level good.
Matt, a nice kid from my calculus class last year, approached us with a tray of crab canapes, decked out in his server’s uniform. He extended the tray to us, and I watched as Mrs. Abrams took an appetizer with her red-manicured fingertips.
“Hey Matt!” I said, smiling at him, “I haven’t seen you in forever.”
Matt just smiled at me apologetically, and turned away.
“You’re not supposed to talk to the servers, Sabryna,” Mrs. Abrams scolded. “They’re here to serve the food. If we talked to them it would ruin the dynamic of the whole event.”
“He’s my friend,” I said, and I watched as Adam gave me a look of warning. Mrs. Abrams looked annoyed. “Let’s socialize a bit, shall we?” she said, and took my arm with a knowing look, a look that said, you better as hell behave yourself.
We strolled over to a couple seated in Adirondack chairs under an oak tree. They were an elderly blond couple with the kind of deep tans that a
re only acquired from expensive island vacations. The woman sat up in her chair as she saw us walking over, gold bracelets jangling on her wrists as she lurched forward.
“Well, well,” she said, hugging Mrs. Abrams. “I haven’t seen you since what, the Thompson’s Bastille Day party, two years ago?”
“I believe you’re right, Linda,” Mrs. Abrams said. “It has been a while.” I suddenly recognized the couple—Linda and Alfred Barron. Linda was the president of the very political, very influential alumni committee, and Alfred was her husband, a hedge fund manager who had been lying low after some sketchy rumors circulated about his role in the 2008 financial crisis.
“Now, of course I remember Adam,” Linda said, smiling at him graciously, and then narrowing her eyes at me. “And who is this?”
“I’m Adam’s girlfriend, Sabryna,” I said, reaching out to give Linda a firm handshake. She smiled at me politely. “You’re not that Sabryna, are you? The junior who won the Economics fellowship?”
“She most certainly is,” Mr. Abrams said, smiling at me proudly.
“You should be very proud, young lady,” Linda said. “It’s practically unheard of for a junior to get one of those prizes. You must be wise beyond your years.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“I’m sure you’ll miss her when she goes to London, won’t you Adam?” Alfred Barron said, and I watched as Adam bit his lip nervously. “Of course,” he said, and gave me a look that pleaded, let’s please not do this now, okay?
The conversation turned to something Adam and I didn’t have the least bit of interest in—some social gossip about how there was conflict about where the funds from the Winter fundraiser would be allocated. Adam and I did our duty and stood attentively, nibbling politely at our appetizers while we nodded along and let our minds drift elsewhere. I nearly jumped when I saw a familiar shape pass into view from the corner of my eye.
It was Nate.
We made eye contact for the briefest of moments, the split second of acknowledgement burning into me like cold ice against bare skin. I shivered. Nate knew what side I was currently playing on, and he was daring me to switch over, to split from the conversation and run to him.
“Anyways,” Mrs. Abrams continued, “Melissa keeps pestering everyone in the Facebook group about redoing the turf on the soccer field, but we all know it’s just because her son is the star of the team. We’ve never been a school that’s big on soccer anyways, and we’d be better off...”
“I um,” I started. “Excuse me,” I said, and ducked out of the circle. No one seemed to notice—not even Adam, who was busy trying to impress his parent’s important friends.
I turned the corner and went out of view until I reached the tiny dessert table nestled under one of the white tents. Nate was stationed behind it in his serving uniform, passing out the cookies we had baked to the few people who had ventured over to the abandoned dessert tent. The majority of the adults here wouldn’t be caught dead eating something so unhealthy and ordinary.
“Nate...” I said, wandering over.
“Hey,” Nate said, fiddling with his hands. He was out of place here, and it showed. “Look, Sabryna, I think we need to talk about what—“
Nate suddenly froze and stared behind my head, and I turned around in shock to find Adam, his parents, and the Barrons all standing behind us, all of them staring at Nate like he was a lost puppy I had mistakenly come across.
“Um,” I said, after I realized it was my job to make introductions. “Everyone, this is Nate,” and Nate, this is...”
“Adam, I would assume,” Nate said, staring Adam down, making use of every extra inch of height he had on him.
“Sabryna’s boyfriend,” Adam said, almost like it was a threat. I was beginning to feel nervous. You could cut the testosterone in the air with a knife. Adam reached out for a handshake, and Nate reached out reluctantly to take it. It was a miracle they didn’t rip each other’s arms right off.
“So,” Mrs. Abrams said. She had sensed the tension and decided it was her job to fix it. “What do you do, Nate? Are you also an Economics major like Sabryna?”
Nate swallowed and stared Mrs. Abrams in the eye. “No, I’m working on my master’s in Literature, actually. I’m a TA.”
“Not much money in that,” Mr. Barron said to his wife, and laughed.
“I get by,” Nate said assuredly, staring the man down.
“Really,” Mr. Barron said. “How, exactly?”
“Well, the TA position pays, and I also work as a waiter, and—“
“Oh? A waiter?” Mrs. Abrams said. “Seems like a waste of time to me. No valuable skills. Why don’t you get an internship at a magazine, or something like that?”
“If there’s a paid one in my field within a hundred miles of here, you let me know,” Nate said. “Right now I have student loans to pay off.”
“Well,” Adam said, a bit condescendingly. “It’s far better to make an investment in developing your skills now, and then you can pay off any loans later, once your skills get you a really nice job, and then—“
Nate braced his hands on the table and stared down Adam. “You know Adam, things aren’t always quite that simple for everyone else, you know that?”
“Look, sorry man, I just mean—“
“Let’s go talk to the Kwans, Adam,” Mrs. Abrams said sharply, and she suddenly pulled our entire party away and back into the crowd.
I looked back at Nate with a sad look on my face, trying to find some way to show how truly sorry I was, but he barely budged. The Abrams family, including Adam, were already in a deep conversation with the Kwans about funding for renovating the theatre, so I took the opportunity to slip out of the way. I ran across the lawn and found Nate, still sulking in the dessert tent.
“Hey,” I said, rushing in, feeling apologies start to fall off my lips. “Look, I am so sorry, you know how Adam is, I mean, you don’t, but he’s from a rich family, and he can’t help the way he was raised, and—“
“I don’t care what a bunch of tone-deaf snobs said to me, Sabryna,” Nate said angrily. “I’m mad because...I’m mad because you don’t belong with people like them. They don’t deserve you. I just...I just don’t see how you could ever be happy married into a family like that.”
“I love him, though, and I just—“
Nate suddenly grabbed my waist and pulled me to him so I was flush against him, and could practically hear his heart hammering in his chest. “I know you think you love him, Sabryna, but it’s stale love. It’s a comfortable, stale love that you’ve been trained to think is the only thing left for you because you’ve never given yourself another option.”
I felt the tears start to come. “You don’t know him, and you don’t know me.”
“He doesn’t know you though,” Nate said, and stared into my eyes, and somewhere deep down, I knew he was right. “What we have is electric, and it’s real, and when we kissed the other day I know you felt it.”
“I don’t know Nate,” I said. “Maybe this is just...”
“Just what?”
“Lust, or boredom, or I don’t know...”
Nate shook his head. “Boredom? If you think you’re bored now, think how bored you’re gonna be when you’re fifty years old and Adam is trailing you around ridiculous parties like this all day? Not listening to a thing you say? Your dreams nothing but dust behind you? He barely understands you now! I don’t get how you’re being so stupid about this, Sabryna. He’s controlling you, he’s not letting you do anything you want. He’s selfish, and rude, and I don’t understand how...”
“For fuck’s sake, Nate, will you please shut up,” I said, tears beginning to roll down my cheeks. “Now you’re starting to make me feel pretty shitty too.”
“Look, sorry, but—“
“You know what,” I said, crossing my arms and turning away. “Let’s just forget this ever happened.”
“I really am sorry, Sabryna. I’ll call you later, I’ll...”
“No,” I said, staring up at Nate. “All of it.”
“Fine,” Nate said.
And that was my cue to wipe my tears and walk away.
***
After a quick run to the ladies’ room, it really did look like nothing had ever happened. I cleaned up my eye makeup, washed my face, and was back with Adam and his family in an instant, and it was like I had never left. I sipped at the drink in my hand as I listened and nodded, and then listened and nodded some more, as I let myself harden up inside. There were a thousand things I could have considered, but I shut them down. I was done with making things complicated. I had made my choice a long time ago, and I was sticking with it. No choice was a perfect one, but I had made a promise, and I was intent on keeping it.
I looked over at Mrs. Abrams, and for the first time I noticed the deep weariness in her eyes, a weariness hidden so well by layers of expensive makeup and skin creams. I wondered if she was happy. Did she like living a life of fundraisers and parties and charity auctions? Was this what she had always wanted? Or one day, a very long time ago, did she want something else too?
I suddenly realized that Adam had wandered off to the nearby campus gardens, and that I had barely noticed. I was hardly hearing a word that his parents were saying, until Mrs. Abrams took my arm gingerly and grinned. “Let’s move this over to the garden, shall we?” I noticed that everyone was moving in the general direction of the gardens, and that the waiters were beginning to direct people towards them. Nate, thank goodness, was nowhere to be found. I wondered if he had gone home early.
When we got into the gardens, we saw a tiny stage was set up, and that the school acapella group was standing there in their uniforms—deep blue tuxes for both the men and women. Adam was sitting alone on a bench near the roses, and he signaled me over.
“Hey,” I said, sitting down next to him and refusing to acknowledge the Nate incident. “I didn’t know they were doing a concert.”
Nate just shrugged and smirked.