The Education of Alice Wells

by Sara Wolf

  “Hate to break it to you, princess, but you’re adorable. I know you don’t like that word, you want like, ‘elegant’ or something. Truth is, you’re that, too. You’re a lot of great things. I’m sure lots of people compliment you on your smarts, so I ain’t gonna do that. We both know you’re smart. But you sure as shit don’t know you’re hot, so let me give it to you straight; you’ve got the sexiest face.”

  She groans, the blush barely rising in her cheeks. I can practically see her fightin’ the urge to snap ‘I don’t, you idiot’ with all the acid she’s got. But I keep talking.

  “I like looking at it. Your face. S’awfully pretty. Long lashes, cute nose, soft lips that look sweet as sin. Sometimes I think about kissing ‘em real hard.”

  Her blush lights up her cheeks like a cherry sunset, but she’s suddenly so wide-eyed and quiet. I freeze, slow horror grippin’ me by the balls as I realize how that musta sounded.

  It sounded real.

  But like the damn expert I am, I don’t let it show. I backtrack quick as a weasel.

  “ – That seems like the type of cheesy, corny bullshit Theo would say, don’t it?” I laugh. “He’s all about that sorta gross, romance-movie-line stuff. Nerd.”

  Whatever spell was holding Alice hostage breaks with my laugh, and she frowns, the blush receding.

  “Y-Yes. He’d probably say something endearing and passionate like that.”

  Our food comes just in time to save me from drownin’ in the sudden sick feeling that rises up in my throat again. Passionate. Endearing. She didn’t mean it for me, so it tastes bitter, but it still makes me feel wobbly and warm inside. Happy inside. I’m more than just ‘hot’, like girls usually call me. For a second, I’m endearing and passionate. She called me that. For a second I’m a real person, instead of an eternal fuckbuddy, to be used once and thrown away like a tissue that’s served its purpose.

  “Did I do alright?” Alice’s question knocks me outta my stunned thoughts. I cough and take a slice of the fancy pizza.

  “You did great,” I say and quickly stuff the slice in my gaping facehole so I don’t gotta own up to my slip up. But I talk through my bite to try and disgust her – try to remind her I’m not Theo, and that she shouldn’t get genuinely flustered by anythin’ I say. “By ‘gread’ I meansh you didn’t verbally cut my entire headsh off.”

  I think she’ll be grossed out, but she just wrinkles her nose and laughs instead.

  “Only a blabbermouth like you could manage to form coherent sentences through a mouthful of carbohydrates.”

  I swallow and smirk even if the voice inside my head don’t want me to. “Itsa skill.”

  Her eyes glitter as she takes a delicate nibble of her salmon. “Uh-huh.”

  “Cultivated through years and years of…of…”

  “Strenuous?” She offers.

  “Strenuous!” I point at her. “Thas’ it. Strenuous work.”

  “Nonsense,” She scoffs, and then scoffs down nearly half her salmon, talking through it. “Shee? Evensh the untrainedsh can do it.”

  I ain’t never seen her take more than lady-like nibbles at stuff. I get over my shock fast though.

  “You’re just a quick learner. It’s because you watched me, the all-time grand slam champion master, at work.”

  “All-time grand slam champion master,” she swallows and muses. “Is that your official title? Do you get a stipend? Where’s your crown?”

  “I get paid in smiles.”

  “Ah, yes, smiles. The accepted currency of playboys everywhere.”

  “Whoa, princess, I ain’t a playboy.”

  “The second time we met you had two pairs of used panties in your car.”

  “Ugh, okay. Fine. I like the ladies. They like me. Arrest me.”

  “Someone will someday, I’m sure.”

  She smirks with those words, but they punch a hole right through me. I grip the tablecloth like it’s the only thing keeping me on the ground, keeping me from floating away with all the hot rage that blows my mind up like a spiky balloon.

  “Are you alright?” Alice looks suddenly concerned. “I’m sorry…if what I said upset you –”

  I force my every muscle to freakin’ relax. Relax, Ranik. Fuckin’ relax. She doesn’t know your past. She don’t know about your pops. She just said it. She didn’t mean nothing by it. She’s innocent and naïve and Alice Wells and you like her. Cut her a break.

  “Sorry,” I mumble. “Someone said something like that to me a lot when I was growing up. So. It hurts. Stings a bit.”

  “Oh.” She flinches. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know –”

  “No, I know. Hey, just think of it as evening the scales out, right? I called you Robot. You said that thing about me gettin’ arrested. So we’re even. Both of us just never say it again, and we’ll be fine.”

  She nods, wary and on point like a fox in a ring of hounds. I gotta break the tension, I gotta make this date useful to her.

  “Parents, am I right?” I laugh, and lean back. “People talk about parents on dates, you know. It’s pretty normal.”

  “Interesting,” She muses. “I’ll make a note of that.”

  I watch her pull out her phone and type something on it. I raise an eyebrow.

  “You’ve been taking notes this whole time?”

  She turns the phone to me and scrolls with her other finger. There are freakin’ pages of the stuff. I whistle through my teeth.

  “Goddamn, Wells. You don’t fuck around.”

  “No, I don’t. I believe that’s the problem.” She says it with a mischievous glint in her eye. And when she gets like that, I can’t help but bust out laughing.

  “Anyway,” She coolly interrupts my chuckle fit. “I would like to practice. Talking about parents.”

  “You first, Princess.”

  “My mother isn’t the most…hospitable woman. She and I don’t get along very well, I regret to say.”

  “What? Any mom in the world would kill to have a daughter like you – smart, cute –”

  “Okay, okay,” She snaps. “This isn’t compliment conditioning. No more compliments.”

  “Ever?” I try my puppy dog eyes on her. They extremely do not work.

  “Ever.” She sets her lip. “Now, if you’d let me continue –”

  I wave my hand and she takes a deep breath.

  “As I was saying, she and I don’t get along. In fact, the only times I can remember us conversing with her seeming semi-pleased were when I’d bring home a report card.”

  “All A’s, of course.”

  She doesn’t glare at me for interruptin’, she glares ‘cause I’m right. “Yes. All A’s.”

  “Jesus, that sounds like a miserable life. Next you’re gonna tell me she never let you go to parties or have friends.”

  Alice stares sheepishly into her plate.

  “Are you kidding me?” I throw my hands up.

  “It was just the parties,” Alice snaps. “She and I agreed they were wastes of time, distractions from my studying. And from what you saw at the Theta Delta Phi party, you know I don’t fit in at parties anyway. I could have as many friends as I wanted. I just – never – no one ever –”

  She cuts off and twists a napkin nervously around her fingers. I can finish her sentence for her – no one ever wanted to be friends with her. I sigh.

  “Sounds to me like you missed out on the best parts of being a teenager, Princess.”

  When she doesn’t answer, I try to steer the conversation.

  “What about your dad?”

  “In jail,” She says immediately and bluntly. “For financial fraud. Ten years. Mom pretends like he doesn’t exist. We moved to the east coast to get away from it all – from him.”

  “Did you like him?”

  Her smile is small, wistful. “Yes. He was the best father anyone could ask for. He always brought me home treats, especially when he went on business trips. He encouraged me to keep writing poetry when Mom burned my journal
s. He’s a very kind man.”

  She looks so happy, recallin’ her memories of him, it almost hurts to look at.

  “Do you ever get to see him?” I ask.

  “No, not since we moved. But now that I’m back here, I’ve been thinking of taking a bus to San Francisco. That’s where he’s being held. It would be so nice to see him for Christmas.”

  “You totally should!” I bang my fork on the table. “And look, don’t worry about the bus. I’ll take you.”

  Her eyes light up, but then darken.

  “No, that’s nice of you, but no. The roadtrip would take a day or so, and I would be staying in a hotel for another few, and I don’t want you to waste your Christmas like that.”

  “Waste? Who said it’d be a waste? I don’t got nothing else to do on Christmas, anyway. My dad’s back in Mississippi, but he’s a bastard and I’m never going back there again. So it’s just me and Trent and the gang, goofing off with candy canes for a week straight.”

  Alice looks unsure.

  “Look, it’d be fun. Or, not fun, because I understand bein’ with me ain’t real fun for you, but it’d be a good opportunity at least! We could do some lessons while we’re gettin’ there. And I wouldn’t bug you, I’d do my own thing in the city.”

  “Well…”

  “Just at least say you’ll think about it. Don’t gotta agree. Just promise me you’ll think about it.”

  Alice nods, expression softening. “All right. I will. Thank you.”

  A real thank you? From Ice Princess? I grin and lean back in my chair.

  “What’s that smug look on your face for?” She asks.

  “S’just, that’s the first time you’ve said thank you to me. Ever. I’m just soaking it in.”

  “If I was the angry type, I’d dump my drink on you and say ‘soak in that’.” She snaps. I laugh, and the waiter comes up with a dessert menu. Alice doesn’t order anything.

  “What, afraid of a few sugar cubes?” I smirk. Her eyes dart around the table.

  “N-No. I’m on a diet, that’s all.”

  “What? Why? You look damn hot as you are!”

  “It’s none of your business,” she says, folding her arms over her chest. I sigh and look up at the waiter.

  “I’ll have the panna cotta thingy.”

  The waiter nods and leaves. Alice relaxes little by little, until finally she’s relaxed enough to ask me a question.

  “So, I gather you dislike your father?”

  I try to stop it, but I know my eyes are doing that mean, flashing thing. “Yeah. He’s not so great. So what?”

  “I believe the term you used was ‘bastard’.”

  “Look, Princess, thanks for spilling all your family secrets, but I’d like to keep mine secret. All you need to know is my dad’s a jerk. End of story.”

  She purses her pretty lips. “Alright. That’s very unfair of you, though.”

  “Well it’s how it is. Trust me, don’t worry about Theo not wanting to spill his guts. He’ll do it gladly. His family is picture-freaking-perfect. This is just practice, anyway. You don’t need to know about me for real. I’m not stickin’ around for long.”

  Maybe I’m imaginin’ it, but she makes a little flinch. Or maybe that was just a sneeze. Either way, she comes back stronger.

  “Right,” she asserts. “Of course.”

  Somethin’ about her voice makes me regret what I said. But before I can say sorry, the waiter comes with my dessert – a fancy white pudding thing with strawberry syrup. I catch a glint in Alice’s eye as she looks at it.

  “You want some?” I offer a bite. She sips her water and arches a brow.

  “No thank you.”

  “Yeah, right, diet thing. Well, if you won’t eat it because it looks good, at least eat it for practice.”

  “Practice?”

  “Couples feed each other on dates, sometimes. It’s something I personally think is nasty and weird, but I’m sure something that cutesy would be right up Theo’s alley. So. I’ll give you a bite, and you try not to pretend you hate it, okay?”

  Her gaze is suspicious. “Are you sure couples do this?”

  “Sometimes. In dumb movies. And if they’re super romantic.”

  “But you’ve never done it.”

  “No. I ain’t exactly a romance guy,” I laugh.

  “So why are you doing this?”

  “To teach you. Duh.”

  She frowns, but opens her mouth and waits patiently. I put a little panna cotta on the edge of my fork and place it gently in, hopin’ she won’t notice my shaking hands or nasty thoughts. Her lips are gentle-lookin’ and so pink. She’s got such a pretty mouth. I’d do awful things to it. No, shit no, I wouldn’t do anything with her she didn’t want. She don’t want awful things. Not from awful me. She wants slow, soft, sweet things from slow, soft, sweet boys.

  I can’t be soft, I can’t be sweet. That’s just not who I am.

  She takes the bite and pulls away, savoring it. The smile on her face is instant.

  “That’s…that’s really good.”

  “There’s more where that came from,” I smirk and push my plate closer to her.

  “No, really, I can’t –”

  “C’mon! One weird lil’ pudding won’t kill you. I promise.”

  “Do you have any idea how many calories dense dairy amalgamations contain?”

  “Do you have any idea how many neener neener neener oh look I stopped payin’ attention.”

  “Ugh, you’re infuriating.”

  I wink and push the plate the rest of the way towards her. “I’ll take that as a compliment coming from you.”

  She stubbornly sets her lip and ignores the plate, but by the time the waiter comes with the check, she’s taking little bites out of it. I smirk and sign the bill, slapping an extra ten on it for the tip.

  “Wait a minute,” Alice leans forward, swallowing. “How much was that? I will pay half.”

  She rummages in her purse, but I stand and stretch.

  “Don’t worry ‘bout it, Princess. On the house.”

  “Ridiculous,” she scoffs. “I won’t have you paying for my dinner.”

  “Too late! S’already all done. Let’s bounce.”

  She takes one last huge bite of the panna cotta and glares at me. I throw my leather jacket on and whistle innocently as her daggers hit my back. She stands and puts her sweater on, following me. Or so I think. But when I turn around she’s shoving forty-two dollars and fifty cents into my hands.

  “Oy, knock it off! How did you –” I count the bills quickly. “How did you know this was half?”

  “I quickly read another table’s menu and did the calculations. Including tip. This is my half.”

  “Ugh,” I smack my hand against my forehead. “Shoulda known better than to try to pay for a genius like you.”

  She just shoves the bills into my leather jacket and dashes outside.

  “Hey! Hey, get back here!” I run out after her. It’s raining cats and dogs, and I pull my hood up. But Alice is just standing on the sidewalk, letting the rain assault her. I run up and throw my jacket over the both of us.

  “What in God’s blue ass are you doin’?” I pant. She holds a delicate hand out of my jacket, the rain patterin’ on her palm. Her blue eyes are mesmerized on the drops, hazy and distant, like she’s somewhere real far away in her mind.

  “Sometimes it’s nice,” she murmurs. “To feel the rain on your skin. To remember you’re still a human being who can feel things, no matter what people say.”

  I flashback to her gettin’ mad about me calling her robot girl. She said other people called her that too. Lots of people. Maybe even people she cared about. She glances up at me, lookin’ lost and small under my big jacket.

  “If I can feel the rain, that means I can feel love, too. Right?”

  My heart breaks a little, tears right down the middle and tries to pull itself apart.

  “What I feel for Theo is love, right?” She
presses. “I don’t know, because I’ve never been in love before. But I think it’s love. It is, isn’t it?”

  “Y-Yeah,” I find my voice, all cracked and messed up. “It’s love.”

  She smiles, and I fight not to kiss her. Again. I ruffle her hair instead.

  “Don’t worry so much, dork.”

  She frowns and tries to smooth it down, and maybe I’m hallucinatin’ more but her cheeks might be a little redder than usual. But that’s probably just the cold night air.

  “Don’t touch my hair,” she grunts but doesn’t pull away. “You’ll just mess it up.”

  “I mess lots of things up. It’s sorta my job description.” I steer us toward the truck, walking slow so she won’t get wet.

  “And pray tell, what exactly is your job?” She drawls.

  “All-time grand slam champion master.”

  “Of…eating poorly?”

  “Of everything in the world ever.”

  She rolls her eyes and elbows me in the ribs, but I’m laughing so hard at her expression it don’t even hurt none.

  Chapter 6

  As I wait for the crosswalk light to change, I stare at Ranik’s text to make sure I’d received it correctly.

  meet me @ starbucks across the street from Garfield building early as u can. need homework

  I stride across the street and push into the warm coffee shop, pulling my scarf down from my neck. I spot Ranik’s buzzed-sides haircut and leather jacket instantly, and storm over to him with a brewing rant on my tongue.

  “I repeatedly told you yesterday to come get your homework,” I say. “And you ignored it completely, and now you called me out here to deliver it like some common newspaper boy! Do you know it’s a fifteen minute walk to get here? I have a lab on the other side of campus in seven –”

  I’m cut off by a caramel Frappuccino and a warm chocolate-chip muffin being shoved into my hands. My diet-starved mouth salivates a little, but I hold back. Ranik’s grin is too bright for this early in the morning, his black curls sleep-tousled and the gold of his eyes lit up by the watery sun reflecting off the table.

  “What’s this?” I frown.

  “A bribe.”