by Jami Wagner
“After the day I had, I’m beginning to think I should have joined you instead of staying here,” he says.
Me too.
“Oh, I’m sure your parents enjoyed having you to themselves.”
Tripp tilts his head as his gaze finds mine. He doesn’t say anything, but he does pull me in close to kiss my temple. “Let’s head home tonight,” he says.
“What?” I ask. “Now?”
Does this mean he’s taking the money? He wants to get me out of here that quickly.
“Yeah. I mean, you have your traditions and all for the holidays, and I think we should still do them.”
“But this is your home,”
“Things are different now,” he says, rising and beginning to repack his suitcase.
“I can go alone, if that’s what you want,” I offer, and his head whips back as if I slapped him.
“Why would I let you go alone?” he asks but shakes his head before I can answer. “Doesn’t matter right now. Right now, all that matters is that we leave.”
My heart plummets into my stomach as I drop my chin. I can’t not say something.
“So, you’re taking the money?”
“What?” he asks. The one word is quick and almost a whisper.
“I …” The single word is all I can say before my breath catches in my throat, and the only thing I can think to do is shrug.
The tears that begin to fall barely have enough time to roll down my cheeks before Tripp is pulling me into his arms and kissing me.
His lips are soft as he gives a quick peck to my forehead. “No amount of money will ever mean more to me than you do.”
He leans back, swiping his thumps over the remaining tears.
“I’m crazy about you, Lennox. Don’t you see that?” he asks, reaching up, perhaps to erase another tear or to hold my head as he kisses my forehead again. But instead, his hand drops and he steps back, breaking our connection.
Do I see that he’s crazy about me? I mean, if I had, I wouldn’t have assumed the worst, right?
Tripp sighs loudly and then resumes packing his bag. I follow suit, tossing in clothes and toiletries, not caring how they sit in the suitcase.
“I’m sorry I assumed,” I say. I don’t know what to say, but something is better than nothing.
“I know,” he says. “We can talk more later. I just want to get out of here.”
So do I, but what I really want is to rewind the last twenty minutes and walk up those stairs instead of down that hall. I want to take back eavesdropping and doubting the way Tripp feels about me. I want to take back the hurt I can see in his eyes.
Chapter Sixteen
Lennox
Tripp hasn’t said much since we got on the plane home. Honestly, he only spoke if I asked him a question, and even then, it was quick one- or two-word answers.
I messed up.
I shouldn’t have assumed he would pick the money over me. Why did I even think that? He’s never once said or done anything to hint he would do something like that.
I grab the mail and follow Tripp up the steps to our apartment.
“Are you hungry?” I ask.
“No, I think I’ll just go to bed.”
“Okay, I’ll grab us a couple of blankets and meet you there,” I say.
“I should probably sleep alone tonight.”
He turns for his room, and I swear my heart snaps in two.
“Tripp, wait,” I say and erupt into tears. “I’m sorry.”
He stops, and his sigh is so loud I can hear it over my crying.
“Lennox, I don’t know why you don’t trust me. Before we got together, sure, but now? I don’t know what I did to make you think I’d ever want money over you.”
“I know. I just, I don’t know. You seemed so comfortable there. I thought you missed it, and then they offered you a chance to have all that again, and I figured you’d want it all back.”
“The only reason I would want it back would be because I could imagine my life with you there. I want to be able to give you all that. I never enjoyed that life as much as I enjoy sharing one with you.”
More tears fall as I lean back against the counter.
Tripp embraces me and kisses the top of my head.
“Why don’t you trust me?” he asks. He sounds sad, and I don’t blame him. I have no idea what I need to do to fix this. No, that’s not true. I do know. I just don’t know how to make it happen.
“Maybe because people in my life never stay around for long I’m constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
“I understand, but we won’t make it if you don’t believe we can. I can’t be alone in this.”
“So you’re not mad at me?” I ask.
“I’m hurt and I have no idea what I can do to earn your trust.”
“You have it.” I nod quickly. “And I’ll prove it.”
I glance around the apartment. What is something I wouldn’t trust anyone else to do? It has to be something good. Something important.
My computer light flashes on the kitchen table, and it clicks.
“I’ll let you turn in my final program submission essay,” I say, and his eyes go wide.
“What?”
“You heard me. I’ll let you take it with you on Monday.”
Tripp looks from me to the computer and back.
“That is a pretty big responsibility, coming from you.”
“I know,” I say. “But you’ll do just fine.”
Tripp leans in for a kiss and my heart cranks up its speed.
He kisses me once more, and though I swear I’m going to work on my trust issues, I sure as hell hope he gets my paper there on time.
Chapter Seventeen
Tripp
Today I have one task: turn in our final papers. They need to be submitted by three this afternoon, and it’s not even lunch yet.
I’m practically skipping down the steps to my car. Lennox trusting me to do this is huge. Crazy huge, and I’m not going to let her down. She deserves this scholarship and so much more. I’ve honestly never met someone as understanding as her.
I’m just pulling on campus when my cell vibrates in my pocket. It’s Mark. That’s odd. He never calls. We’re more texting buddies.
“Hello?”
“Dude, I fucked up. I fucked up so big,” he says instantly, and he sounds out of breath. I sit up straight and glance toward his dorm to the right of where I’m standing. “I fucked up,” he says again.
This doesn’t sound good. This has to be something more than just bad; Mark is the calmest one of our group.
“Slow down,” I say, interrupting more of his “I fucked up” chant. “Tell me what happened.”
“It’s so bad I can’t even say it. I don’t want to say it,” he tells me.
“I can’t help you if you don’t explain it to me.”
“Ohhhh, man, you can’t help me. No one can help me.”
Shit. What the hell happened?
“Mark, you’re really starting to freak me out.”
“I cheated, man,” he yells into the phone. “I cheated on Kass, and now this other chick is pregnant and Kass knows and she told me she never wants to see me again. I’m freaking the fuck out.”
Holy shit.
Not what I was expecting, but yeah, this is bad.
“What … how?” I ask. I’m not sure I want to ask him anything. I kind of want to punch him in the face, to be honest.
“Fuck the details. I have to see her. I have to get her back.”
Knowing Kass and hearing Mark’s tone, I’m thinking space is best. Mark won’t hear it though; he’s too determined of a person. Especially since he bought an engagement ring last week.
“You know, that’s a great idea. I’ll head over this afternoon, and we can make a plan to do just that,” I say. We might not make a real plan for him, but at least I might be able to talk him out of whatever else he intends to do.
“I can’t wait till this afternoon
. I’m going to head to her dorm right now.”
“No!” I shout into the phone and scrub my hand over my face.
Shit.
“I’m headed to your dorm now. Just stay there till we have a plan, okay?”
“I can’t make any promises. I have to get her back. The longer I wait to talk to her, the harder it’s going to be.”
Something tells me that if what he admitted is true, it’s not going to be hard—it’s going to be impossible.
I click off the line with him and stare down at the essays. It’s still not even noon. I have time. Fix Mark’s situation and come right back to turn our papers in before three. I’ve got this. It’ll be fine.
Barely in park, I leap from my car and jog toward Mark’s dorm. I’m finally at his door when I hear him and then I hear her.
Since the door is already ajar, I push it open, and Mark jumps back, like he had no idea I was coming. If I’d just found out I was going to be a dad, my mind would probably be all over the place too. Still, I’m not pleased with my best friend for multiple reasons now.
“I know it looks bad,” he says.
“Looks bad?” I ask. My eyes bounce between him and Sydney. “This is fucking unbelievable.”
“Tripp. I—” Sydney starts.
“I don’t even know where to start,” I say as I put it all together. “You cheated on Kass with a girl I was seeing.”
“You’re with Lennox now. It doesn’t—”
“I wasn’t when you two slept together!”
“Okay. Yes, this is bad.” Sydney steps in front of me with her arms crossed and eyes filled with anger. “But there isn’t shit we can do about it now except accept the consequences.” She turns to Mark. “You don’t have to do anything, Mark. I’m not going to hold you to this. I just thought you should know. It wouldn’t be fair to keep this from anyone.”
“You know I can’t do that, but I love Kass. I’ll do the right thing with you, but I want her.”
“I know you do. I’m not asking you to leave her.” Sydney sighs. “I’m not raising my child in a place like this. My child won’t be messed up in the head because of us. Figure your shit out. Let me know or don’t. I don’t care,” she says and walks out. Marks sighs. “Fuck.”
“Yep,” I say. I feel like I should leave, but I’m torn. He went behind my and Kass’s back, but he’s my friend and what’s done is done.
“Thank God you’re not mad,” Mark says, stepping toward me, most likely to close the dorm door. It’s just the perfect distance for me to connect my fist to his right cheek.
“Ahhhh!” he screams, running into his dresser.
“Now, I’m not mad,” I say.
“Fuck,” he says again. Clearly his favorite word of the day.
“I didn’t think you’d be that upset over it. You hardly even had feelings for Sydney.”
“I know. That was for Kass.”
Still rubbing his cheek, Mark nods but doesn’t say anything. He takes a seat on his bed and for the first time in all the years I’ve known him, I watch my best friend cry.
***
My shoes squeak to a stop as I come around the corner to Professor Turner’s office. I’m thirty minutes late.
Luckily, Turner is just stepping out of his office.
“Oh yes, thank you. I thought I missed you,” I say slowing to a stop. “Here are Lennox’s and my final submissions.”
Turner holds his hands up like he’s about to touch fire. “I’m afraid you’re too late, Mr. McCain.”
There isn’t even an ounce of remorse in the way he’s looking at me. In fact, he looks more angry than anything else.
“No. I can’t be late,” I say.
“But you are.”
“I know I am, but I have them right here and you’re right there.” I hold our papers up even higher. Please take them.
“I’m sorry. You missed the cutoff.”
“Please, Mr. Turner, please take Lennox’s paper, at least.”
“Again, Mr. McCain, you missed the deadline. In journalism, missing a deadline can mean your job. This is just how it works.”
He turns to walk away, but I run around and step into his path.
“I will do anything. I swear. Just take her paper,” I beg.
I heard him. I just don’t care.
“My answer is final. I’m sorry.”
“I can’t give up. I need you to take her paper.”
“Mr. McCain.” Turner shakes his head and starts to walk away. I follow him, keeping his pace. I have to turn this paper in. I don’t want to start at square one with Lennox. I can’t lose her trust the moment she gave it to me.
We make it out the English building’s doors, and he sighs.
“I’ll volunteer on campus,” I offer.
“I’m sorry, Mr. McCain. The answer is still no.”
“I’ll be your assistant next semester for no credit. I’ll take an F in the class.”
“Mr. McCain, I—”
“Mr. Turner, I’ll do anything. If you won’t take them both, at least take Lennox’s paper. She’s innocent here. Please don’t punish her for my mistake of not being here on time.”
Maybe I can buy his cooperation. That’s a bribe, of course, and the old Tripp would definitely try it. The new Tripp, well, is my self-worth more important than Lennox’s future?
“I—”
“Look, no great story was ever published by an author who gave up,” I say and reach into my pocket, wrap my fingers around my wallet.
“Fine. I’ll take them.”
Yes! I pull my hand out of my pocket and shove both papers into his hands before he changes his mind. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“But I won’t forget that you turned both essays in past due,” he adds, holding up his hand before I can step away. “Before I forget, please give this copy of the school’s gazette to Ms. Ashby. They loved her essay from the beginning of the year.”
He hands me the paper with her name in big, bold letters. Lennox wrote an article for the paper?
Damn, that girl just keeps impressing me.
“I sure will. Thanks again, Mr. Turner.”
I take a seat on a bench nearby and start to read her article. “The Brutal Truth: Goals, Determination, and the Average College Student” by Lennox Ashby.
I make it only to the second paragraph before I stop and resist the urge to crumple the paper in my hands. Was she ever planning to tell me she wrote a paper about me? Probably not, since this one doesn’t make me look good, and now that I’ve seen it, it doesn’t make her look too good either.
Lennox
I won’t lie if he asks. I’ve been panicking the last hour, wondering if he made it on time. No less than six times, I contemplated sending him a text to remind him. Of course, I want to show him that I do trust him, so I didn’t actually message him. I do trust him. It’s just hard to stop relying on myself for everything since I’ve done it for so long.
I see Tripp pull up outside the apartment, and my heart immediately calms. Okay, he’s back and he’ll walk in here and he’ll tell me it’s done and I’ll be fine.
Oh shit. How hard did he just slam his car door?
Something happened.
I’m still standing by the window when he walks through the door.
I almost stumble back from the cold look in his eyes.
“Is everything okay?” I ask. My voice is shaky, but the look he’s giving me makes me think twice about asking anything more.
“I’ve been better,” he says and drops a newspaper on the counter.
Is he going to be more specific?
“Oh, you want me to tell you what’s wrong?” he asks. I do not like his attitude.
“It’s a start.” I shrug. What is his deal?
“So, you want me to tell you everything, but you don’t have to share everything with me?”
“What?” Now he’s making zero sense. When he starts to laugh, I’m almost convinced he’s gone mad.
“Actually, after my day, this is quite fitting. All right, where do I start? Should I start with my best friend cheating on his girlfriend?”
Not Mark?
“Or when I showed up at Professor Turner’s door thirty minutes late and he refused to take our papers?”
“You didn’t turn in my paper!”
“Oh no, I did. I almost threw away my self-worth to bribe the guy and avoid letting you down, but that’s not why I’m pissed off,” he says, cutting off my next question. “I begged him to take your paper, and he did. Then, he gladly gave me this.” Tripp picks up the paper and dramatically shakes it, preparing to read. “The average college student steps into their first day with bright futures and a list of goals burning a hole in their back pocket, but occasionally you have the privileged, wealthy, hot-headed kind who are one step away from therapy once they learn they have to co-educate with the peasants of the world. This is where the real challenge begins.”
It does sound a bit harsher than intended when read out loud.
“I wrote that before I got to know you,” I say. “Clearly, I was wrong.”
“I don’t know, Lennox, maybe my”—he pauses to read more off the article—“‘fake sense of drive and lack of interest to understand,’ got in the way.”
“All right, yes, I wrote awful things in that paper. I wrote it after you told me I was the dullest person you’d ever met, Tripp. I was mad. Furious. People like you made college look so easy while the rest of us were spending most nights studying till we passed out instead of partying.”
“Mad? Lennox. You downright hated me and wanted to make sure everyone knew it.”
“No one knows I was referring to you.”
“Anyone who knows you knows you were talking about me.”
“I’m sorry, Tripp. None of that is true; I see that now. I never intended for you to read that. I had no idea it was going to be published.”
“Well, it was, and the truth is out.”
He drops the paper back on the counter and turns for his room. I follow him.
“Tripp, wait.”
“For what, Lennox? For you to tell me you’re sorry again?”
I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.