Breathe in. Breathe out.
"Really? A ballerina? If you're going to talk to me like that, there's no use in continuing this conversation." As I stepped into the daylight, I looked at my new surroundings. My home. I refused to let Aubrey, or anyone else for that matter, ruin this for me.
"I keep hoping you'll realize how much it's killing me that you chose to go to New York, but I don't think you ever will. Your family misses you. I miss you!"
I held the phone away from my ear and turned the volume down. I knew she was full of shit. My mother may have missed me, but my father was happy I was out of the house. This way, he wouldn't have to see the son who was such a disappointment to him.
Before I left for New York, my father sat me down in his study and asked if I was sure this was the path I wanted to take.
"Dad," I told him, "my life isn't something you can control. This is what I want to do and there's no way you can change my mind."
My father studied my face, almost as if he were waiting for me to crack a smile and admit I was joking. When I didn't say anything, he continued on his rant.
"Sammy, I just can't stomach the idea of my son going off to spend his days dancing. You know it makes me sick, seeing you prance around in spandex. It's an embarrassment to the Callahans."
Since I refused to follow in his footsteps and go to medical school, he considered me a waste of space. I drove the memory of that conversation from my mind. I was beginning to wonder if Aubrey was oblivious to what was happening right before her eyes. If she was convinced that my dad missed me, what other nonsense did she believe?
"I do miss you, Aubrey. The girl I used to know, I really miss her." I felt my throat clench and became irritated that these conversations were happening every day. I was tired of arguing. More than anything, I wanted to be happy again.
"Whatever, Samson. I'm the same girl I've always been, but now I have grown-up goals. Not that you know anything about that. Goodbye."
In the past, Aubrey had been supportive of my dancing. She came to all of my performances, taking pictures of every dance. When our junior year arrived, though, the pressure of getting accepted into Yale became more important than anything else. Aubrey threw her camera away, along with her carefree attitude. I understood why I was put on the back burner, I just didn't think I'd stay there. Everything changed the moment she received her acceptance letter. When it was clear that the girl I loved all my life had disappeared, I went after what I wanted. It was upsetting to move away from her, from everything I'd ever known, but my dreams didn't line up with hers.
I'd practically lived in the city most of my life, traveling back and forth to visit my dance teacher, but now that I was able to call it home, the surroundings seemed different. It looked brighter, cleaner even. I shook off Aubrey's call and allowed myself to forget the drama for the rest of the evening.
I had plans to meet up with one of my best friends, Wren, later that night at the housewarming party of our buddy, Jay. The three of us had gone to high school together, but Wren was a year older and had lived in the city for a year now, attending NYU as a literature major. His parents bought him a condo in Brooklyn, and when I told him I would be moving to the city, he urged me to move into his complex. I tossed around the idea until I was informed by Juilliard that I had to live in the dorms my freshman year. Judging from the experience I had meeting my roommate earlier this morning, I already knew it was going to be awkward living with him in a room the size of a closet.
I crossed over 67th street and headed to the Apple store. Since guys don't typically have housewarming parties, I didn't know what to get. Jay practically had everything already. His parents catered to his every need, and now his only goal was to throw the best parties in the city. As I browsed the newest iMacs, a sales associate stopped and asked if I needed help.
"Can you point me in the direction of housewarming gifts?"
The sales guy gave me a confused look. "I guess ... portable speakers would be good?"
"Sure, portable speakers. That works." I was in a hurry to get out of the busy store and to the party on time. "Show me the way." I signaled him to move. After almost head-butting a few people to get them out of my way, we finally came upon the speakers. I picked up the first box I saw and walked to the registers. The line was insanely long and I remembered why I liked having a personal shopper back home. After I made my purchase, I quickly walked back to the dorms to change. My roommate, Myers, wasn't around, and I was glad there wouldn't be an awkward invitation thrown out on my part.
Getting into Jay's building was like trying to get into Fort Knox. The overweight security guard sat at his desk, scrolling through the list of approved visitors.
"Samson Callahan, for the hundredth time," I seethed.
"Sorry, son, I don't see your name on here; therefore, you aren't allowed upstairs."
I felt like jumping over the fat bastard's makeshift desk and pummeling him, but decided violence wasn't the answer. As I reached for my phone to call Jay, I turned and saw Hadley Shepard walking in. In high school, Hadley was the proverbial town bicycle. Any guy was free to hop on for a spin and pop a few wheelies along the way. I was probably the only guy at St. Luke's that never took a joyride. Would it still be called a joyride if her lady bits were a common place for men to park?
"Well, if it isn't Samson Callahan. No surprise you're late." Her high-pitched voice rang through my ears as she walked toward me. I'd never been close to Hadley, but she and Jay had an on again/off again relationship since high school. She came to New York to pursue her dream of becoming a Broadway star. Hadley was the farthest thing from prudish, so I was sure if she opened her legs for the right casting director, she'd be on a stage in no time.
"Hadley, wow, I'm surprised to see you're not horizontal by this time of night."
She sneered, which made her face look like an angry Chihuahua. "Very funny, Sam. Is that girlfriend of yours still buying your claims of heterosexuality?"
Hadley stomped off in Mr.Fatty’s direction and gave him her name. As he stood up from his chair and waddled across the foyer to retrieve the elevator, I was tempted to grab his stupid list and add my name. Just as I was about to, the elevator opened and out walked Jay with his arm slung over some blonde I didn't recognize. I guess he and Hadley were "off" right now. Hadley swiftly brushed past Jay into the elevator, ignoring him and the blonde.
"There you are, Sam. Where the fuck have you been? Wren is upstairs already." Jay had a grin plastered on his face, which could only mean one thing: he was about to get laid.
"Standing here for the past fifteen minutes. You could have remembered to put me on your list, asshole."
"Fuck, my bad." Jay's palm hit his forehead. "I had Patsy create the list and she must have forgotten you." What the hell is the use in having a party planner if they forget a simple task like that? Jay turned to the security guard. "Tom, let Samson up to my place. He's cool." He walked to the doors, turning back before exiting. "Samson, I'll be right back. This beauty right here wants to take a joyride in my Porsche."
There's that term again.
The doors to the penthouse opened and there stood a waiter, with a glass of the best whiskey on the planet. This was exactly what I'd needed all day. My hand wrapped around the cool glass and my throat began to ache for the slow burn of the liquor. I walked into Jay's place and noticed a few of the guys from St. Luke's hanging out in the kitchen, probably reliving our high school days. If there was one thing I didn't want to do, it was dwell on the past. I was over trying to keep up the facade of what the preppy kid with lots of money was supposed to act like. I wanted to focus on dance, not on how much my car was worth or how many girls I'd slept with. I steered clear of the kitchen and headed into the living room.
Jay's condo looked like a picture from those house magazines my mother always read. White furniture went perfectly with the dark wood floors that lined the entire loft. A stone wall stood opposite the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooke
d Manhattan. I had a feeling Jay's mother designed the space. I saw Wren sitting on the stark white couch, talking to another one of our friends.
"Dude, where the hell have you been?" Wren stood up and slapped me on the back. I hadn't seen him in six months and I barely recognized him. No longer preppy, he had on a flannel button up, dark jeans that looked as if they had been painted on, and his hairstyle had changed dramatically. The once short spikes had been replaced with closely shaved sides and a messy, grown out top. Then I noticed the tattoos. My best friend was now a hipster.
"Wren? Is that you, or did you kill off my normal-looking friend and replace him?"
"Funny, Samson. I'm glad your humor stayed intact through all of those ballet classes."
When Wren first moved to New Canaan, Jay and I were freshmen in high school. I remembered the first day of school, Wren walked into the cafeteria and straight to our table. "Can I sit here?" he'd asked. We all stopped talking and looked up at the voice none of us recognized. Wren had moved from South Africa that summer. Since that first day of freshmen year, Wren, Jay, and I had always been best friends.
"When did all of this happen?" I pointed to the black drawing peeking out from Wren's shirt. I wasn't entirely surprised by his new appearance. He was the rebellious one in the group. Every time his parents pushed him to do something he didn't want to do, he pushed back harder and refused. I respected him for always sticking to his guns.
"I started with this one." Wren pointed to the inside of his wrist to a solid black triangle. "Then I got this," he pointed to his other arm and showed a black ink drawing of his favorite writer, Kurt Vonnegut. "After these two, I became addicted and I couldn't stop." Almost everything, including Wren's knuckles, was covered in art.
"Whatever makes you happy, dude." I patted him on the back and stood up to grab another drink from the bar.
As the night went on, my buzz grew stronger. Jay finally got his ass back to his own party and he, Wren, and I took some much-needed shots. The blur of the day's events faded, and I was well on my way to feeling numb.
"Wren, who you banging these days?" Jay asked loudly over the music. He was never the kind of guy that held his tongue, and it had gotten the three of us in a ton of trouble throughout high school.
"Really, Jay? Stop worrying about Wren's sex life. You should be more concerned with getting yourself checked out for STDs. These random girls you fuck are bound to have something," I retorted.
"Remember that one time," Wren began but stopped mid-sentence, laughing hysterically, "Jay's mom had to call him out of school because he found out he had gotten chlamydia? That shit was disgusting."
"You're both douchebags. I knew I shouldn't have told either one of you." Jay grabbed the whiskey glass from my hands and drained the last of it before handing it back to me.
"If it weren't for us, the entire school would have found out about your little excursion with that stripper." I remembered how hard it was for Wren and me to keep Jay's condition under wraps. Every time someone would ask where he was, we laughed and tried to convince them Jay had caught some kind of bug. What we didn't say was that it was the love bug that nipped Jay.
"You're a dickhead." Jay pushed against Wren's chest, causing him to fall back against the table. "So are you," he slurred while trying to shove me. I dodged him just in time. "Dude, didn't you mention something about leaving by midnight?" Jay studied his watch. "You're gonna be a fucking wreck in the morning."
I looked down at my watch and saw that it was almost one. "Fuck! Why did you have to pull out the Patron? This is all your fault." I shoved the empty glass back into Jay's unsuspecting hands and heard it shatter on the ground as I walked to the front door. "See you later, assholes," I called out.
"Don't worry, Twinkletoes," Jay shouted after me, "your fancy ass knows how to nurse a hangover." I hated the nicknames he felt he had to give me. Ever since he found out I wasn't playing baseball anymore and started taking ballet lessons instead, he'd come up with an assortment of nicknames, his favorite being Twinkletoes. Wren, being Wren, never followed along with the nicknames.
As I stumbled onto the elevator, my pocket began to vibrate. The only person who would call me this late was Aubrey.
"Here we go again. I shouldn't even answer your fucking calls," I said while looking at the display on my phone. Why am I talking to myself in an elevator? I had way too much to drink tonight. I pushed the button to answer and put it to my ear.
"Hi, Baby," I mumbled, "I was just getting ready to call you."
"Don't lie to me, Sam. Where have you been all night? I was expecting your call hours ago." Does she ever stop with her incessant whining?
"Aubrey? What did you say? I can't understand you. My phone's breaking up ... hello?" I pressed the end button, turned it off, and shoved it back into my pocket. I didn't want to deal with her shit yet; I had a great buzz going and she was bound to ruin my high.
The cab dropped me off in front of the dorms and I saw Natalia standing near the building with the same friend from earlier. When I saw her this morning, I needed a reason to meet her. The only one I could come up with was pretending to think she was a part of Big Brothers, Big Sisters. When she told me she went to Juilliard, I was excited. Without thinking, I'd replied with harsh words. It wasn't as if I doubted she could go here. I was more elated to know I'd be attending the same school as the beautiful girl whose face was filled with so much passion. I'd forgotten what that looked like until I saw it on her face.
Having been drinking for most of the night, I knew that if Natalia said the wrong thing, I would probably go off on her. As I tried to get up to my room without a confrontation, I heard the familiar name being called my way.
"You've got to be kidding me. My name is not Toby!" I swung myself in the direction of the girls so that they could see that I wasn't in the mood for their antics.
"Chill out, dude. It was a joke." The girl that was talking had some serious fashion issues. It looked like she had walked into the closet of a prostitute, closed her eyes, and grabbed the first thing her hand touched. Ignoring her, I glared at Natalia.
"We meet again, Dorothy."
She glared at me. "That's not my–"
"I could have sworn you said you were from Kansas." I replied as I stumbled and fell into Natalia. She put her arms out just in time to keep us both from ending up on the ground.
"Illinois, not Kansas. You are aware that those are two different states, right?" Natalia asked condescendingly.
"I may be drunk, but I've never been stupid." I started chuckling at my cleverness. I really needed to lie down before I passed out right here on this dirty sidewalk. "It was nice talking to you, Kansas. Girl-Who-Doesn't-Know-How-To-Dress, we'll meet again." I climbed the stairs slowly, hoping I would remember which room I lived in.
Stepping into my dorm room made me miss my spacious bedroom back home. The plus side to this place was that my father couldn't barge in whenever he felt the need. My roommate wasn't there, so I undressed freely and lay across the bed. I dialed Aubrey's number and with each ring, I knew she was looking at her screen, debating whether or not she wanted to answer.
"What do you want, Samson?" She sighed loudly into the phone, trying her hardest to disguise her pain. Hurting Aubrey was never my intention. My heart had been playing a game of tug of war. One minute, happiness was winning, spreading through my body, knowing I was lucky enough to have her in my life. The next minute, I was treading the mud and rocks, working hard to keep my footing and not fall off the cliff.
"Do you remember when we used to go to my tree house late at night? We would get in so much trouble being out past dark. Our parents would come running out to the yard, yelling for us. They always knew we were up there, hiding from the world." A smile crept on my lips as I stretched my legs out on the mattress.
"You wouldn't ever let me go when I needed to. You'd always convince me that we needed to spend five more minutes together, even though we had just spent the entire day wit
h each other." Aubrey's voice lightened up and I knew she was smiling. "You always made those last five minutes worth all of the groundings."
"You definitely made it worthwhile, too," I said. For a moment, all I wanted to do was pack my bags and go home to be with her, but this side of Aubrey wouldn't last long. Silence filled the air and I knew she was waiting for me to speak again. "I wish you were here, lying next to me." My arm brushed the empty space of the bed and I longed for her warm body to fill it.
"I wish you were home," Aubrey said quietly.
I thought back to being in the tree house with Aubrey. We'd lie next to each other on our backs and discuss our future together. She'd tell me all about her dream wedding and I'd listen, noting all the things she wanted. I was determined to make her dreams come true. But then she changed. I changed. We changed. Now, the only thing I wanted was to feel whole again, with or without her.
"You're never going be okay with me living here, are you?" I asked her. I already knew the answer. If it had nothing to do with Aubrey, she'd never accept it.
"It's not that, Samson. I just wish you could have found a school closer to me." Just as I thought.
"Juilliard has always been my dream. You knew that."
"Right. Looks like all your dreams came true then." Aubrey's words cut deep, making me feel like I'd done something wrong. I needed to change the subject.
"I went to Jay's tonight and hung out with him and Wren. It was good seeing those guys."
"Good for you. You don't have to tell me that you're wasted because I'm well aware of that fact. Did any girls give you their phone numbers?"
I rolled my eyes. "I'm not wasted," I lied. "No girls gave me their phone numbers. I wouldn't have taken them even if they had tried." I turned over in bed, waiting for Aubrey to reply. When she didn't say anything, I continued, "Tell me about your day. How were classes?"
As I adjusted my position in bed, my thoughts drifted to Natalia. As uptight as she seemed, I couldn't help but think of her long, lean legs as she did a pirouette. I found myself thinking of her face. Doll-like features cradled by long blonde hair. It wasn't just her looks that immediately drew me in. She was beautiful, though. Her blonde hair pulled back, accentuating her brown eyes and pale skin. It was mostly Natalia's feistiness that grabbed my attention. She put me in my place, and that was a huge turn-on. Fuck. I was getting hard thinking about someone else while my girlfriend was still on the line.
In the Air (The City #1) Page 3