by A. J. Pine
“Shit! Classes. Elaina, I need to borrow your laptop!” I run back to her room, holding tight to the towel that loosens with each stride. Her computer is open on her desk. I wake up the screen and frantically click on a browser, quickly navigating to the university’s registration database. “Please, please, please,” I mumble to myself. “Let there still be spots.”
I log in. One quick glance at the screen and I let out an exasperated scream before slamming the laptop shut. All English classes are closed. There are no schedule change options. Tomorrow morning at nine, I will have to face Noah for Shakespearean Comedy.
Chapter Nineteen
“Not to forget. Just to distract.” This is what Elaina says to me as we walk up and down Union Street in downtown Aberdeen. She put forth a good effort as in between cafés and retail boutiques, I found myself lost, maybe only for minutes, in the gray bricks, the notched parapets, the spires that, while centuries old, top the buildings that house stores like Top Shop, Waterstones, and HMV. For those minutes, I am grateful.
When we surrender to hunger, it is already three o’clock, so we decide on the Blue Lantern so Elaina won’t be late for work. Except for a few regulars, the bar is empty. Still, it feels like a win to sit in the coveted giant booth, even if it does make me think of Noah. Elaina did good today, diverting my attention. I may even have cracked a smile or two. Now, though, I wish desperately to talk to him. In the nine hours we sat together on that train, we never exchanged phone numbers. Why would we? Together for the night and what was supposed to be the next day, the thought never occurred to either of us. After seeing Hailey at his place, I feel completely cut off. I get it now, his reaction to my night with Griffin. I didn’t deserve his judgment, but I understand where it came from. Evening the score. That must mean kissing me. Sounds like he trusted Hailey, and she betrayed him. He trusted me, too, and it looks like I did the same. If he has to choose, why wouldn’t he go back to her? Elaina comes to the table with a pitcher of cider and two pint glasses. One of the many bonuses of her working here, and soon me, is a free pitcher of the tap special. As luck would have it, Sunday nights are cider nights.
“Only one for me,” I say. “I’ve got a nine a.m. class tomorrow.”
“Whatever you say, pussy lightweight.”
“Elaina!”
After that, there is food, and laughter, and maybe another pint or two since it was only three o’clock when we started. By the time five o’clock rolls around, Elaina is officially behind the bar, but she convinces me to stay a while longer. In addition to the tap special being cider, Sundays at the Blue Lantern are also eighties night as far as music is concerned, so when “Tainted Love” erupts out of the speakers, the smattering of patrons meander onto the dance floor. That is, most patrons aside from me.
I can’t dance. This is not false modesty. Comparisons have been made to Elaine from Seinfeld.
I bring my pint with me to the bar, afraid of the looks I’ll get sitting alone in the giant booth. As I watch the dancers enjoying themselves, I get my sip and sway going.
“Tainted Love” ends, and the beat gets slower. “Take My Breath Away.” For the first minute of the song I stand there with my arms crossed, unable to move. I never thought my pathetic love life would be summed up by the Top Gun soundtrack, but Berlin tells me otherwise, singing of waiting for love.
“Uh-uh,” I say to myself, turning to face the bar.
“Another?” the bartender asks, but it’s not Elaina. Daniel, the first guy to ever serve me a drink in Aberdeen, greets me with a grin.
I shouldn’t. With each sip, I near my limit. But instinct overrides logic.
“Yes, thank you.”
“Strongbow, is it? That’s what Elaina said you’re drinking.”
I nod.
I raise my pint and say, “Cheers,” before sliding him a five-pound note, but he slides it back.
“You’re already on the docket as employee. This one’s on the house.”
Ordinarily I’d think Daniel was cute. He has a mess of sandy hair, almost like Griffin’s, but his eyes are green. His smile hangs slightly crooked, making him look like he knows something others don’t. So, yes, I guess I do notice how cute he is. But it doesn’t matter. He’s not Noah. Noah is, however, the one who walks through the door to the Blue Lantern right now. But he’s not alone. Hailey walks in behind him, and behind her is Duncan.
“Shite,” I say before downing the rest of my pint.
Elaina appears next to Daniel now, motioning for Duncan to come to us. He does.
“What are you doing?” Usually Elaina only teases Duncan, but now she actually sounds angry. “I asked you to get Noah to join you. He was not supposed to bring his girlfriend!”
I flinch at the word. “What did you guys do? Didn’t you tell Duncan what happened when I went to his room?”
Elaina turns to me, but her eyes give her away. “Maybe they are just friends now.” But her voice lacks its usual sureness, and she looks away as soon as she says it.
Despite her anger, Duncan leans across the bar and kisses her, and she obliges.
“Sorry, love. I popped ’round his room and invited him for a drink. He wasn’t too excited to come, and I’m pretty sure he knew it would be some sort of a setup. I mean, I’ve never had drinks with the bloke on my own before. When I met him in the lobby, she was with him. What was I supposed to say?”
Elaina’s eyes are narrow, and I’m at a loss for words, which I guess is good because the two of them are talking as if I’m not here.
“I don’t know. Maybe you should have told her that ex-girlfriends are not invited.”
I clear my throat. “Excuse me? Remember me? Not that two days really count, but I’m pretty sure I’m the ex-girlfriend, not her. Am I invited to this ambush?”
Elaina’s eyes widen, as do Duncan’s, because they’ve apparently never seen me angry before. But I’m furious. I’d probably gnaw my own arm off to talk to Noah right now, but if anyone was going to be ambushed today, it should have been him, not me.
“You guys could have told me.” I’m more than angry. I’m hurt. They are supposed to be my allies, and they mean well, but they messed up. Staying for one more pint is no longer an option. I stalk past Duncan and out into the early Aberdeen night.
Once outside I realize my jacket and purse are still nestled in the booth. I’m cold, bordering on drunk, and stuck having to go back in there. This would be a good time to take up pacing.
Only a few minutes later, the pub’s door opens, and Daniel walks out. I get my hopes up for a second until I note he does not have my jacket or purse. He does have two shot glasses, though.
I laugh. “Elaina must not have told you about me.”
He raises a brow, handing me one of the shots. “What do you mean?”
“I’m a pussy lightweight when it comes to drinking. Her words.”
He laughs. “Yeah, she told me. That’s why I brought you this. I figure you only need one to obliterate whatever it is that’s keeping you from going back inside. Cheers.”
I take one whiff of the brown liquid and know exactly what it is, and I drink it anyway.
“Drambuie. Cheers.”
While I am tipsier than hell at this point, the shot doesn’t obliterate anything. It doesn’t change Noah being inside with Hailey. My friends, though with good intentions, totally set me up. But I don’t have the heart to disappoint Daniel’s efforts.
“Thank you, Daniel. That helped,” I say, and he opens the door to usher me back inside. I’m only going in for a minute, to grab my stuff so I can officially head home.
Elaina waits for me at the table when I get back in. I shake my head at her, not in the mood for any kind of explanation.
“Don’t, Elaina. Please, don’t. I appreciate what you tried to do for me today, but this is not happening. You cannot force him to speak to me when he clearly doesn’t want to, and I’m not sure I’m ready to talk to him at this point, not after four pints and a sho
t.”
She startles at my admission. “A shot? Who gave you a shot?”
“Does it matter?” I continue. “Look at me. I’m fine, except for some minor humiliation. I need to get out of here. I have a phone call with Sam later. And classes start tomorrow. My night ends now.”
I grab my fleece and fix my purse strap across my body.
“Who is going to walk you home?” she asks.
I shrug. “I’m fine on my own.” I look at the clock above the bar. It’s only seven-thirty. It wasn’t fully dark when I was outside a moment ago. “It’s not dark out yet. I’ll be home in ten minutes. I’ll text you when I get there.”
I turn to leave, but she grabs my arm.
“Jordan, wait. I will get Duncan. He will walk you home and come back. It is okay.”
We both scan the bar, though, and see no sign of Duncan. Noah and Hailey are in plain sight, though, and our eyes connect for a brief moment. That’s enough for me to entertain no other thoughts of waiting.
“I’m sorry,” I tell Elaina. “I have to go.” Our second semester of classes starts tomorrow. For that reason alone, I shouldn’t be here. At least now she can’t argue with me for leaving.
I make my way past her to the door but am forced to pause in the frame of the exit. Four pints and a shot have officially caught up to one another, and a wave of dizziness hits me out of nowhere. My palm rests on the windowed portion of the door. I’m hoping the dizziness will pass, but it doesn’t fully. I leave anyway. Even though I ache to talk to Noah, I don’t want to do it like this, when sobriety is waning.
I’m not out the door a full minute before I hear him. “Jordan, what the hell are you doing?”
I don’t turn around but keep walking, maybe not in the straightest line, but I move in the right direction. Away.
“I’m going home. Go enjoy your night.” My back still faces him.
I walk, but not fast enough. His footsteps catch up to mine. His hand on my shoulder, he forces me to a stop and then to face him.
“You can’t walk home alone like this. You’re drunk.”
I brush his hand off my shoulder, my immature pettiness taking over. I’m so angry with him, and at the same time I want nothing more than for him to touch me, to go back to where we were twenty-four hours ago.
“Thank you for the astute observation, Mr. Keating, but I assure you I can walk home like this.” I turn to leave, but this time he grabs my hand. The tightness I feel in my stomach now has nothing to do with liquor.
“It’s getting dark. You know it’s not safe to walk the park at night alone. Don’t be stupid to be spiteful, Jordan.”
His repeated use of my first name feels like swallowing shards of glass. Each time he says it, the cut goes deeper.
“Spiteful?” I tremble as I speak the word. How could he think I would spite him? It doesn’t matter. He’s already made up his mind about everything.
“Please, Noah.” My voice cracks, and I don’t try to hide my sorrow now. “Let me go.”
He’s quiet for several seconds and then pulls out his phone.
“Fine. I’m walking you home. I just have to…”
He trails off, and even in my state I know the words he doesn’t want to say. I just have to text Hailey. Because he came with her. Because they have history. Because he’s evened the score. I don’t want to believe that last one, but Hailey spoke it without a hint of irony, without an ounce of malice. She still loves him, and maybe that’s enough for Noah now that he’s lost any faith in me.
I can’t wait for him, so I start on my way again. A minute later he is next to me, almost. He hangs back a few paces, and we walk in silence, together but not.
The walk is sobering yet painful. To be this close to him yet so very, very far is maddening. The beauty of the park is muted by the growing darkness, the spindly, naked trees more threatening than inviting. I’m glad he’s here, if only for a short time. When we finally emerge from the park onto the Hillhead property, I break the silence.
“Are you back with her now? Hailey?”
I figure that no matter what he thinks of me, he owes me this answer.
“Jordan.” Regret bleeds from that one word, my name.
I can’t move or speak.
“It’s more complicated than that. We’ve been with each other through a lot.”
“God, Noah. Enough with the fucking complicated! What about what’s going on with us? Was that just to even the score with Hailey?”
His expression hardens. “I can’t believe you’d say that.” His hands clasp at the nape of his neck. “I can’t, Jordan. I can’t do this with you right now.” He pauses, his face filled with frustration. “You were right, what you said. There’s an expiration date on everything that happens here.” He paraphrases my words without bitterness. Instead it sounds as if he is making a realization.
“But not with her. With Hailey.” I realize something, too. “She doesn’t have an expiration date.” I swallow hard, fighting back the torrent that builds. “I get it.”
Those were my words. He is right. But those words came from a person who never could have planned on him. I would have fought against time, would have fought for him. But that doesn’t seem to matter now.
“Good night,” I say. “Thanks for getting me home safe.”
I turn toward the door of my building, praying he doesn’t try to say anything more because I can’t hold back the torrent any longer. When I get inside, my vision blurs with tears. I go to my window, though I know he won’t be there, but for one shred of a moment I let myself hope.
He’s gone.
My journal rests on the desk, now open to the first page. I read my recollection of Noah’s impromptu kiss and pick up the cause of this devastating day and hurl it into my closet. Though I’m fully clothed, I set my alarm for the morning, collapse atop my blanket, and let sleep take me. When my phone rings at midnight, I don’t hear it, or if I do, I silence it, putting off reality for a few hours more.
Chapter Twenty
I’m sure that morning is a woman because this Monday, she is a total bitch. I wake to my alarm but also to puffy eyes and a mouth that feels like I spent the night sucking on a sheet of fabric softener.
Half conscious, I shuffle my way to the bathroom. When I emerge from the shower, I am clean by definition but still layered in the bleak finality of last night. I rub a clean spot into the foggy mirror and look at my red, swollen eyes, cursing myself for signing up for a morning class regardless of who was in it. No matter how great Shakespeare is, the funniest of his comedies will not get a laugh out of me at nine o’clock on hangover Monday. I promise myself not to coin that phrase for further use. Hangover Monday is here for one appearance only.
I throw on my jeans from last night. A glance at my phone sends me into a spiral of homesickness. I missed Sam last night, so I pair my already worn denim with my Illinois sweatshirt. Not many Hillhead residents leave at this hour. Nearly everyone but me knows to avoid nine a.m. classes on a Monday. Students who walk to class are obscured under the canopies of umbrellas, so it’s hard to gauge whether or not I know anyone who’s out here. Halfway through the park, though, the rain settles as the sun pokes through a menacing cloud.
As soon as I close my umbrella, I see Duncan. We’ve been walking together this whole time.
“Good morning, Duncan,” I half say, half groan.
“Morning, Jordan. I thought that was you but wasn’t sure you’d be wanting to talk to me.”
I stop so I can look at him, so he can see the benign expression on my face.
“Duncan, I’m not angry with you. Elaina asked you to do what you did, and I don’t blame you for it. Your hearts were in the right place. But maybe you all should have been looking out for mine.”
“That’s it, though,” he says. “It was all about your heart, Jordan. Elaina only wanted to help. I’m afraid it looks as if you’ve given up already, though, and that won’t do.”
I start walking agai
n. He joins me and continues our now one-sided conversation. Though I do listen.
“Jordan, Saturday night, when you walked in with Noah, Elaina knew. In her words: ‘Oh shit. The Americans are in love.’”
I don’t miss the s on the end of the word Americans. “Duncan, even if that was true, it doesn’t matter.”
He scratches his head. “Look. I’m saying that even I could see it, and I can be right thick sometimes. We both saw you with Griffin, and I’m telling you, it was nothing like that display the other night, and we didn’t even see you kissing. Heard it, though. Outside the front door and through your wall. You can hear everything in those flats.” He pauses for a second, and realization spreads across his face along with a naughty grin. “I guess that means you can hear me and—”
“Stop! Duncan, I don’t want to talk about what I can hear from behind the wall. I’m already scarred!”
At this we both laugh, but I find myself hanging on to whatever he may say next. I wonder if it’s possible to fall in love after a day. But it’s been more than that. Hasn’t it? Starting with that kiss, so much has passed between us in four months. Duncan’s right, and it shames me to admit it, but it was never like that with Griffin.
“What are you trying to say?” I ask him.
“I’m saying you don’t fall out of love in a matter of hours because of some silly words on a silly page.”
I shake my head. “He didn’t trust me. He took one look at Griffin’s stupid note and thought the worst of me.”
“Aye.” He thinks for a moment. “But from what Elaina’s told me, the man’s been put through the ringer. It’s quite messy, yeah, for him to spend a year with the girl who really did break his trust? I imagine it makes him wary of trusting again so easily.”
“Yeah,” I say. “Messy.”
Duncan rubs his buzzed head, hesitating.
I push him further. “Just say what you want to say.”