by Knox, Abby
Is this my life now? Are we going to have to keep this relationship a complete secret for the rest of our lives? It doesn’t seem fair.
Crosby’s face softens. He blinks at me with a reassuring smile and hands me a large present wrapped in glittering red paper and a gold bow.
The tag says it’s to me from Crosby.
Completely taking the focus off of our parents now, my voice cracks when I tell him I didn’t get him anything.
“Yeah. Yeah, you did,” he says, with unguarded earnestness. I can hear Mother and Neil softly whispering and giggling together, so thankfully, hopefully, they are not noticing whatever energy is being exchanged between Crosby and me.
I unwrap it and open the box to find a glittering cat collar, an assortment of cat toys, and a plush cat bed.
“Crosby,” I gasp. I hold the collar in my hand. It looks like diamonds. “You did not.”
“It’s not what you’re thinking. It’s crystal.”
I look up at him. “Still.”
Glancing at Mother, I half expect her to say something to firm up her stance on no animals in the house. She must be settling in to the Christmas spirit because she makes no comment at all, except to say, “Well, kids, we have an announcement. We’ve just now decided. Neil and I will be having a summer wedding. I don't know how I’m going to plan a wedding in six months but I just can’t wait to be married to this guy.”
Neil clasps her hands and gives her a dopey smile.
Crosby and I exchange smirking looks as if to say we both know that Mother won’t be doing any of the actual planning herself.
16
Ridley
After all the presents are opened and Mother and Neil have broken out the special single malt to celebrate, Crosby and I head to the kitchen and load up a basket full of yummy Christmas food that the staff, who have the day off, have prepared and left for us in the fridge. Crosby grabs napkins, drinks, gingerbread, and Christmas cookies. I whip together a spread of meats, cheeses, fruits, and dips.
Crosby eyeballs my handiwork. “What the hell? How did you do that so fast? It looks too fancy to eat.”
I smile and tell him, “Some moms teach their kids how to knit and bake. In my case, my nanny and Mother’s chef taught me how to entertain at a moment’s notice.”
Unexpectedly, Crosby slides one arm around my waist and pulls me in for a deep, scorching kiss. I rest my hand on his chest and he moans. Things are about to get real horny in the kitchen.
He groans in low-key agony when I pull away to ask, “What was that for?”
“That was your Christmas kiss.”
This gives me a tiny thrill. “Ooh, we have our own special Christmas kiss? But wait, what if I want it and it’s not Christmas?”
Crosby laughs and it vibrates against me. “It’s yours, whenever you want it. Forever.”
The way he’s looking at me with pure unadulterated affection is so beyond what I’m used to. But the past couple of days have taught me more about men and more about myself than I’ve learned in my nineteen years.
It makes me feel bad about not being upfront about—well, not my age, but my actual grade level. I’ll have to tell him at some point. But I think we’re already past the point of this all being an innocent misunderstanding. Maybe he’ll go back to California tomorrow, go back to his old life, and both of us will move on and there won’t be any need to talk about it.
And maybe we’ll hook up again on the sly for the wedding.
Yeah, right, and maybe I’ll pine for him for the rest of my life, because there cannot be any other man who makes me feel the way he does. Who makes me like myself. Who makes me see that I’m a good person.
Crosby cups my face. “What’s going on with you?”
I stammer, “We…we should go check on Sassy.”
We carry our basket and tray of snacks and drinks up to his room, where we spend the rest of the day monitoring Sassy and oohing and aahing over her seven perfect, tiny, fresh kittens.
17
Crosby
I wake early with a pit of sadness in my stomach.
I’m leaving today.
Going back home to California to spend New Year’s with my Mom in Sacramento, then back to Palo Alto and my regular life. A life that just days ago was the be-all and end-all of my happiness. And now it looks pale and dull because she’s not in it.
Ridley tries to sit up in bed, but I pull her back down to me. “No, baby. No. Stay with me. Please.”
Yeah, I’m begging. I don't care if that makes me appear whipped. In fact, I don't care at all about appearances anymore. I just have to have her. I need her.
“Oh, Crosby,” she whimpers, a shuddering breath giving way to tears.
“Ridley, please don’t cry. It’s going to be OK. I know this is fast, but come with me.”
She heaves a small sob and it nearly breaks me. “I can’t.”
“I’m not talking about this week. I mean after the holidays. We’ll tell our families everything, and then you can move out to California to be with me. You won’t have to deal with the ridicule of being with me, and I can help you enroll in school somewhere out there.”
Ridley swivels around and buries her face in my shoulder, leaking tears onto my chest. Her true vulnerable self is far more beautiful than the legend of her beauty that precedes her.
“I can’t…”
I grit my teeth at the thought of our life together not starting as soon as possible.
But I understand.
I cup her sweet face and kiss the tears that glitter on her cheeks, her nose, and sweep my mouth across her lips. “I know. This is fast. But you’ve made this the best Christmas ever and I want to spend the rest of my life making you feel the way you make me feel. I love you, Ridley.”
She squeezes her eyes shut.
“Don’t do that. Open your eyes. Look at me. You don’t have to say it back. In fact, I don’t want you to, yet. I know this is a lot for you to take in. But I want you to take it in and feel the love and understand it before you say it back. I want you to be sure and I want you to mean it when you say it.”
She opens her eyes but shakes her head. “God, how did I end up here in the bed of someone so ridiculously sweet?”
I joke and run her hand up my abs. “Because you can’t resist this washboard, baby.”
“Ugh! Shut up!” she says, slapping my chest and showing me that smile that I love. “I’m getting up to check on Sassy. You’d better start packing your alternate bags.”
18
Ridley
After Crosby leaves town, I try to focus on the now and get my mind off him by tagging along to a party with the usual crew.
When I arrive with Hadley and our other friend Daphne at the annual Greenbridge students’ sneaky New Year’s Eve party, I’m prepared to see my ex, Roland.
What I’m not prepared for is Roland having a date. Not because I’m jealous. I’m one hundred percent over him. I’m more worried that this girl who is with him—Addie? Maddie? Something like that, from the swim team—is too pure for the likes of him.
I’m sure she thinks I’m giving her the side eye all night, when actually I’m making sure Roland doesn’t get too handsy with her. Luckily, he and his loser friends keep their drunk hands off of everyone and focus on the TV and some college football games.
Hadley and Daphne try to get me to drink with them but I’m just not in the mood to drink. Strangely, I mostly want to feel my feelings.
As midnight approaches, I watch people pair off for the midnight kiss. Roland is in the corner staring at the TV, and I don’t see Addie or Maddie anywhere. I scan the room for her just as my phone beeps. I look down. It’s a FaceTime call from Crosby. Scurrying off to the nearest dark corner, I answer.
“Hi,” I say, popping in my earbuds and smiling from ear to ear, while trying not to cry.
“Babe. What’s the matter?”
“What? Nothing.”
“Ridley, it’s pretty clear t
o me something is wrong.”
It’s then that I let the tears fall. “I don’t want to be here.”
“Where are you?”
“Some stupid party with people I don’t even want to be with anymore. Why can’t I just be done with high school?”
A loud countdown begins and drowns out my words. Good thing, because I just said the words “high school” to my boyfriend who doesn’t know I’m still in high school.
“What was that?” Crosby asks.
“Nothing. I just miss you.”
“I miss you, too. Midnight kiss?”
I nod through my silly tears and we share a kiss on my phone screen. A cold, flat kiss on a screen, but I feel Crosby like he’s here with me.
“Now,” he says. “Why don’t you tell me what’s really going on?”
I open my mouth, but just then, that girl Maddie—or Addie?—rushes over to warn me that the cops are coming to break up the party and she’s somehow gotten all us girls a ride home.
Panicking, I tell Crosby that I have to go and I’ll call him back soon.
As the next couple of days wear on, and the more FaceTime sessions and text messages we share, the more I miss Crosby.
* * *
Daddy summons me the day after New Year’s because he says he needs to talk.
“Daddy? I’m kind of in the middle of something,” I say, checking on Sassy and watching her feed her kittens. I was about to take some pictures and send them to Crosby, to let him know his suitcase is still the coziest place in the house.
“Ridley, come home. Now. We need to talk.” My stomach churns.
He knows.
But when I arrive, I’m told to change into a dress. From the looks of everything going on around me, I soon figure out I’m expected to attend some spontaneous wedding of some teacher I barely know.
By the time I’m dressed, I’m just not ready to go to this random wedding that, for some reason, is taking place at Daddy’s lake house. Not without Crosby. I don't know who to call. I can’t call my friends. The only person I can think of is my mother? We may not have the best relationship, but maybe I’ve played a part in that. I just need to talk to her.
“What on earth are you crying about now?” my mother huffs over the phone.
I’m getting dressed for this wedding in the heated tent down by the lake, although I don’t know why I have to be there. I’ve never even been in theater or taken any classes with Ms. Fairweather. Or, Fairhope? I can’t remember her name. And I don’t know what’s come over Daddy this year, but he came back from his random trip to New York acting way less domineering and more…like a man who’s been cut off at the knees. Something has changed.
But I can’t complain. He’s sent one of his staff members over to Mother’s house specifically to watch over Sassy, so I won’t stress about her and her kittens while I’m visiting with him for the rest of the winter break.
It’s almost as if Daddy has turned into some kind of a lovesick puppy, the way he’s been moping around the house.
Mother seems to be the only person in this clan who has it together in the relationship department.
“I swear, you’d never be able to tell you’re the progeny of your father and me with the way you’ve been acting. You’ve been positively sentimental ever since Christmas Eve. What’s gotten into you?”
“Mother. There’s something I have to tell you.” I grip the phone. “You’re not going to like this. Crosby and I are seeing each other.”
I’m relieved that I am not there to see my mother’s jaw hit the floor.
“That little fucker. I knew he was no good.”
I grip my fingers into the cables at the front of my sweater, over the spot where my stomach rumbles in hunger. “Mother, it’s not like what you think.”
I feel relieved that I’m not face to face with Mother right now because for the first time in my life, I completely unload the truth onto her. I tell her everything about Crosby and me. Well, not everything. That would be a little gross.
I am not a girl who blurts things out. But right now, I do. “And, Mother, I think I love him.”
I don’t think I do. I know it. I’ve been just as mopey around Daddy’s house as Daddy has been these past couple of days.
Finally, after a good long talk, during which I convince my mother not to hunt down Crosby and chop his nuts off, she arrives at the grief stage of acceptance.
“Well. I suppose anything is better than Roland Peek.”
“Please, I don't ever want to hear that name again.”
“You know I’ll have to tell your father about this.”
“I figured as much.”
* * *
I go up to my father’s study to have the talk.
But he doesn’t ask me a single thing about Crosby. It seems he has an entirely other agenda and I have to admit, I’m a little relieved.
“First things first, I apologize. I’m sorry for never saying no to you.”
At first, I cut my eyes around Daddy’s office, looking for the hidden camera. “What’s going on? Are you dying? Is that why we’re in your office? Because you’re cutting me out of the will?”
Daddy laughs. “What? No, I’m not dying.” He proceeds to confess to me all the ways in which he thinks he’s done me a disservice. Given me things I didn’t earn. Paved a golden path everywhere my feet have trod and never giving me a sense of appreciation for what I have. Most regrettably, never nipping my bullying problem in the bud way back in preschool.
And then, he drops the bomb about Hunter Rydell. Wait … what? The drama queen best friend of the goody-two-shoes girl?
I listen to the whole saga in shock and horror.
“What are you going to give me to keep this story quiet?” I ask when he’s finished, never fully intending to extract money from him over this secret.
Daddy rubs his face in exasperation.
“Did you not hear a word I said? Where did I go wrong with you, Ridley? Was it when I bought you a pony when you asked for one at four years old? Was it the front row Beyonce tickets at the age of nine? Was it the credit cards?”
I sigh and cross my arms. “Daddy, come on.”
“Ridley, I love you. And I don’t want this to affect your senior year any more than I want it tainting Hunter’s senior year.”
I eye him skeptically. “So?”
“So, if the story gets out, it will be embarrassing for you as well as for her,” he says.
My eyes dart around. “Hmm. I don’t think that’s correct,” I say. “This is way worse for you and Hunter.”
My lip curls, because I’ve got him where I want him. Or, at least I think I do. This whole Crosby thing has made me into a better person and I’m not sure I’m great at manipulation anymore.
Finally, Daddy says, “If this story gets out, in any form, I don’t care if you are the source, or Hunter or your mother or the ghosts of Greenbridge are the source. You, my dear daughter, whom I love very much, will be cut off.”
I smirk. I don’t actually care about any of that anymore. But, I’m enjoying this little game. “Really. Well, go ahead and cut me off. I’ll stay with Mother, and she has plenty of money. Not to mention Grandpa. And how am I supposed to stop Mother from blabbing this all over the PTA meeting when she finds out about it?”
Daddy takes a step closer. “Because despite all her faults, she has compassion. Something we perhaps failed to teach you. She would not want a student to suffer embarrassment because of her idiot ex husband. Also, grandpa’s money is in a trust, and you won’t see it until you’re twenty-five. And guess what? Grandpa can change the terms of that trust whenever he wants, with a single word from me.”
I have to take a beat. “I have compassion,” I say, trying not to sound sullen.
Daddy nods. “I’m glad to hear you say that. Now think carefully about what I’ve said.”
I start to turn away, but Daddy presses a hand to my forearm. “Just one more question, daughter of mine. If y
ou ever do find out I’m dying, do you think you could maybe save your concerns about the will until after you give your old man a hug?”
Unexpectedly, my chin quivers. I throw my arms around my Daddy. For the first time in I don’t know how long, I give the man who raised me a proper hug.
Before I let go, I repeat, “OK, but are you sure you’re not dying?”
He laughs again and gives me another fatherly squeeze. “No, Ridley.”
I let go and say, “Just checking. And if you tell anyone you saw me cry, you’ll wish you were dying.” I shoot him a look before flouncing out of his office.
It doesn’t fix everything, but it’s a start.
So, I think as I head down to the party. He doesn’t know. But he will know soon enough. Probably a good thing I’ll be mingling at this weird party for the weird couple while he no doubt takes a phone call from Mother.
When he finds out about Crosby and me, my father, Anthony Rushmore, hotel magnate, will take matters into his own hands. He’s either going to murder Crosby or manipulate things to ensure my happiness. He’s the go-to guy, the fixer of Greenbridge Academy. My entire family has a history of that. Daddy bought both swim teams their own activity buses. He was responsible for hiring legendary coach Weston Ford, too, this year. And even though I, as captain, tried to stage a coup in protest of his hiring at the expense of our previous coach, I have to admit now it’s all been for the best. With the way everything has been going this year, the Greenbridge Hornets are headed to a state title for the first time in years.
It almost makes me get over my resentment from spending most of my summers since childhood following instructions of the private swim coach that Daddy had always insisted on hiring.
I head down to the party and find Hunter Rydell.
I say words to her I’ve never spoken to another girl my age in my entire life.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m sorry for the way I treated you at the pool party last August. And I’m sorry for the way I have behaved on the swim team this year. I’m…going to try to do better.”