by Seven Steps
“Because I still want to be with him. I don’t think I ever stopped. That’s the truth.”
His eyes harden, and he looks away from me. An angry energy radiates from his body, and he bites his lower lip. I wait for my words to sink in. For him to make a move.
Finally, his hazel eyes rise to me again, and there’s fury in them.
“Whatever.”
And, just like that, he gets up and walks away, leaving me behind.
Or had I already left him behind?
∞∞∞
I sat in the deli for a long time, watching the people go in and out. I ordered a second cup of coffee and texted Sophia what’d happened. She showed up a half hour later, and I slid into the passenger seat of her car.
My hands are shaking. Everything is just going way too fast. I need time to catch up. To think. I need a swim.
“Are you okay?”
I nod, even though I’m definitely not okay.
She reaches her hand across the seats and places it over mine.
“You’re as red as a beet,” she says.
“I told him I only wanted to be friends.”
She sighs. “It was only a matter of time.”
I snatch my hand away, my face quizzical. “What? Why would you say that?”
“Um… because you weren’t that into him, obviously.”
“I liked him.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t like him like him.” She tries to put a hand to my cheek, but her bluntness annoys me, and I pull away.
“I just met him. Of course I don’t like him like him.”
She rolls her eyes.
“Look. I’m not going to play dumb for you. You broke up with him because you still love Eric. Admit it.”
Oh my God, does everyone think that? First Michael. Then Sophia.
“I’m moving on from Eric.”
“No, you’re not.”
I let go of a breath. Am I that obvious? Does everyone know this but me?
“Look at me.”
I refuse and look out of the window instead.
“Ariel, look at me.”
I make her wait an extra few seconds, then I comply.
“Tell me who you want. Michael or Eric.”
My eyes dart about the car.
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
“No, I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because, Soph. How does that help anyone?”
“It will help you to get your head out of your butt and make up with this boy who’s driving you crazy.”
“You don’t understand.”
“So make me understand.”
“He has a girlfriend!” The words explode out of my mouth.
There it is.
The truth.
The ugly, horrible, terrible truth. And now that it’s out, I can’t stop talking.
“He’s with someone else. And now, I can’t… I mean… there’s nothing I can do. He’s with someone else.”
Sophia’s eyes soften, her lips lifting slightly. She puts both hands on my cheeks.
“Do you love him?”
I let out a breath. No use of hiding it now.
“I never stopped.”
“Good. You finally know what you want.”
“But it doesn’t matter. I can’t just go running back now.”
“You’ll never know until you ask.”
“Yeah, I’ll just walk up to him and say, hey, I forgive you now. Can you break up with your girlfriend so we can get back together? It doesn’t work like that, Soph.”
“I’m not saying to be a homewrecker. I’m saying to walk in your truth. Know in your heart that he’s the one you want. And maybe, if you wish hard enough, he’ll come back to you.”
A single laugh escapes my nose.
“Look. There.” She points to a Volkswagen beetle. “Now, wish with me.”
I shake my head. No one but Sophia wishes on Beetles. No one. But I’m feeling vulnerable and in a wishy mood. And so, I close my eyes, take Sophia’s hand, and made my wish.
When I’m done, I look back up at Sophia.
“Thank you,” I say.
“For what?”
“For being you.”
She reaches over and hugs me.
“Aww. How can I be anyone else?”
36
Daddy’s party’s in full swing, with guest gathering in the living room, dining room, kitchen, and around the pool. A few split off and go to the roof to sit around the fire pits and overhead canvases. I think about going up there too, but since I’m in a green, backless, knee-length cocktail dress and heels, I choose to stay in the warmth of the apartment and watch the door.
I have to say I look pretty good tonight. The lace details around my arms and neck is slimming and delicate. My pearl jewelry shimmers in the candlelight. I’d convinced Alana to paint my nails in forest green with pale yellow sea shells, and I’m wearing comfortable black heels with hints of yellow around the toes. I feel gorgeous and very adult.
While I’m on self-imposed door duty, Duckie’s in the kitchen, making sure the appetizers and champagne stay full and flowing. I haven’t seen the twins all night, but I imagine they’ve made their way onto the rooftop with a few of the other kids, sipping champagne and staying away from Daddy’s prying eyes.
The bell rings, and I pull the door open.
Bella’s standing there in a slim fit black dress. Her curly hair’s pulled up into a severe bun, and she wears sparkling earrings that I recognize as a pair I’ve lent to her during the summer.
We stare at teach other awkwardly until her father, Maurice French, steps around her.
“Ariel!” Mr. French pulls me into a tight hug, just like old times. His salt and pepper hair has recently been dyed black, and he smells like cinnamon gum.
“Long time no see, girl.”
I step out of his hug, once so familiar and now so foreign.
I don’t know what else to say, so I reply, “Yeah.”
I wonder how much Bella has told him about what happened between us. Does he know we aren’t friends anymore?
He gives me a parting pat on the shoulder and moves farther into the house, leaving Bella and me alone.
She smiles at me. A big, sad smile.
“You look beautiful, Ariel,” she says. Her arms cross at her stomach, and I can tell she’s nervous. Have I made her that way? Jeez, that makes me feel terrible.
“Thanks. You too.”
We stare at each other for a minute, a year of friendship echoing between us. Long weekends spent watching movies in her room. Laughing at some stupid joke until our stomachs hurt. Nearly barfing from eating too much ice cream. Late nights sharing secrets.
All of that is gone now.
Long gone.
Our eyes drop from each other, and I step back, allowing her into the room. She walks into the living room, standing amongst a few other girls who’ve come with their parents.
The purpose of this party is to give the rich and powerful an opportunity to both donate to and enroll their kids in Daddy’s new business academy. I don’t know why Bella and her father are here. They aren’t rich. Her father manages a horse stable in Manhattan. They only got their apartment because another tenant, Ms. Fleckenstein, has sublet it to them for cheap.
They don’t fit in here. And yet, they’re mingling with the rich and powerful as if they’re one of them. It’s admirable. For a brief moment, I allow myself to feel something other than grief for Bella. I feel pride.
The bell rings again, and I open the door.
Alfred Grim stands there, thin, almost sickly, with a hook nose and hooded eyes. When he sees me, his eyes warm.
“Ms. Swimworthy.”
“Hey, Grim.”
I haven’t seen him since I stopped going to the Center, our old after school hangout spot. It’s been over a month since I’ve stopped in. The place holds too many memories of Bella and Eric. Memories that slice into my
heart.
He takes my one hand and puts it between two of his.
I try to keep my eyes on the older man and not on the dark-haired boy peeking over his shoulder. Or the equally dark-haired girl on his arm.
“So nice to see you again.” His voice sounds gravelly. Like he’s been smoking or something. Does Grim smoke? “It’s been too long.”
“Yeah. I haven’t really been in a hanging out mood lately.”
“So my wife has said.”
“Speaking of wife, she’s in the kitchen.”
His whole face lights up.
“I knew I smelled her famous mini quiche.”
Grim’s wife, Antoinette, works as our full-time cook. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, as well as all of the grocery shopping are left in her capable hands.
“You know Eric, of course,” Grim says, stepping past me. “But have you met my granddaughter, Purity?”
Purity smiles and steps forward.
Granddaughter? Purity is Grim’s granddaughter?
I swallow a gasp.
“Yes, we’ve met at school,” I say.
“She’s come up to lend a helping hand around the house,” Grim says.
“And to take care of my sick grandfather,” Purity replies. Her eyes are laser focused in on mine. “I’d gotten word that my cousin was feeling a bit overwhelmed and I came to lend my support.”
Her head tilts to Eric, though her eyes are still steady on me, as if trying to communicate a great truth.
I play the words back in my mind.
My cousin was feeling a bit overwhelmed.
My cousin.
Eric is her cousin?
I shake my head, trying to wrap my mind around my current reality.
“I’m sorry, what?”
Grim raises an eyebrow at me.
Purity steps forward, standing a little too close. So close that I can smell her mint gum.
“My grandfather, Alfred, was diagnosed with cancer recently. I came to help Eric, my cousin, with arrangements until Alfred is back on his feet.”
She peeks at Grim, then looks back at me.
With every word my heart feels like it’s entirely too big for my chest.
“But not to worry. Eric is making sure that my grandfather is getting the best care available. I’m sure he’ll pull through better than before.”
I look over Purity’s shoulder and see Eric’s pensive expression. He watches me closely, as if I’d flee at any minute.
I’m not so sure that I won’t.
“I didn’t know you had any family,” I say, more to Eric than to Purity, who’s still standing right in front of me.
“Purity is my uncle Frank’s stepdaughter. Her mother’s maiden name is Grim.” He gestures to Grim. “Alfred Grim is my great uncle on my dad’s side.”
Grim smiles. “Ah, you got it right. When he was little, he told everyone I was his nephew.”
Eric grins, his eyes never leaving mine.
I clear my throat and take a few steps back. Why does it suddenly feel like the room is spinning?
“Well, please let me know if you need anything from the Swimworthy family.” The words come out quickly and a little too loud. “Please, enjoy the party. There are refreshments in the dining room and additional heated space on the roof.”
I walk around them and reach to shut the door. I stare at it until Grim, Eric, and Purity leave my presence. Then I place a hand on the wall and try to get a grip on my racing heart and spinning mind.
Purity’s Eric’s cousin. I didn’t even know Eric had cousins. All this time I thought she was his girlfriend.
Is that what she was trying to tell me this whole time? Is that why she wanted to be friends?
Jeez, I feel like an idiot. A stupid, jealous freak.
And yet, a piece of me feels less stupid. Less freakish. More… hopeful.
That cannot happen.
It cannot.
Can it?
Do I want it to?
God, I want it to.
But I can’t want it to.
Can I?
I suddenly feel very faint and put my hand on my head to check for fever. My heart is pounding.
“Hey, Re—uh, Ariel.”
Eric’s voice sends familiar goose bumps through my entire body. He’s so handsome in his black suit that fits him like a glove. His white shirt’s left open at the collar, giving him a casual look that makes my heart stutter. His eyes look up at my now blackened hair, then back down to my eyes.
“Ariel,” he repeats in a whispered voice.
I shift in my heels.
God, he’s gorgeous.
“Hey.”
“How’s the party? Boring or super boring?”
“Boring,” I say. “But that’s because it just started. I’m sure it’ll be super boring once the speeches start.”
“Speeches?” His eyes widen a little. “Who’s on the schedule?”
“My father, mostly,” I say. “And Meghan Stonewall.”
“Stonewall? Wow, it’s really going to be a rager.”
We laugh then. An easy laugh.
“Well, I’d better go see to my board of directors, who already look like they’ve sampled a bit too much of the champagne. I’ll catch up with you later.”
He nods at me then strides away.
Eric inherited his father’s exporting business when his parents were murdered eleven years ago. He’s being groomed to take over as the CEO when he turns twenty-five. Like me, Eric comes from money, but he doesn’t flaunt it by wearing flashy clothes or driving crazy cars. He’s just a normal guy who happens to be a multimillionaire. I like that about him.
I’m still thinking about Eric when Daddy comes into view, followed by Meghan Stonewall.
The crowd reaches out to shake their hands and pat their backs as they pass. Then, Daddy starts in on a speech I’m not listening to. I watch his face. It’s the same face he makes in front of the television cameras. False smile. Guarded eyes.
My father is a hardened, bitter man who hasn’t forgiven the world for his wife’s death. I’m certain it’s why he keeps himself hidden away in his office. Why he keeps most people at arm’s length. Maybe that’s what holding a grudge does to a person. It sends them into hiding with only bitterness and misery to keep them company.
Is that what I’m doing with my former friends? With Eric?
My father gestures for me to join him in the middle of the floor, and I do. Eric is already standing beside Meghan Stonewall.
“...And these two remarkable young people are among the twenty inaugural students of Swimworthy-Stonewall Business Academy. We look forward to them graduating with the highest honors and for them to take their place as the leaders of tomorrow.”
The crowd claps, while I hold back a grimace. If he thinks I’m graduating at all, he’s sorely mistaken. Hasn’t he seen my test score? I’ve failed every homework assignment and quiz I’ve taken. In fact, I’m sure the only reason I’m still in the class is because my father holds the lease to the school.
I suffer through more speeches and pictures for a full half hour before I finally find my heavy coat and escape to the roof.
Thanks to the falling snow, most people have already gone inside, giving me a moment of quiet. I sit inside the heated white tent and pick at one of the fruit plates. A fire bowl creates cheery warmth, and I stare into it. Fascinated by the dancing flames, I barely notice the light twinge in my gut, signaling Eric’s arrival.
He sits next to me in front of the flames. There’s a cushion between us, but it feels like he’s closer.
I silently pull my faux fur coat closer around my shoulders and keep my eyes on the flames.
“It’s weird that the future of the world is being discussed in your apartment right now. When I was a kid I thought that kind of stuff happened in shadowy buildings and dark offices. Behind closed doors, you know. Now, I know better. Deals are made over champagne and little quiche cups. The boardroom is just a place to dress u
p and yell at each other. But the real power is in places like this.”
We sit for a minute not speaking. The whirring of the heater and the crackling fire are the only sounds around us.
Finally, when the silence starts becoming awkward, I speak up.
“I wish this dumb academy never started.”
“I don’t.”
My head jerks up, and I stare at Eric in shocked disbelief. “What? Why?”
He shakes his head, not looking apologetic at all. In fact, he looks rather proud of himself. He leans his forearms on his knees, his hands in a praying position.
“Did you ever stop to think why this class is so important?”
I scoff.
“Uh, yeah. So my dad can put his name on yet another thing and so Meghan Stonewall can look like a human being for once.”
“No, Ariel, it’s more than that.” He turns fully to me now, the firelight catching in his eyes, on his skin, in his hair. “It’s to show the world you don’t need a trust fund to succeed. We’re setting a bar that your father wants other kids to raise. This is our chance to do something good for other people. Not just sit back in our castles. I can’t believe you still don’t see that.”
Is it true? I always thought of myself as generous. But am I really?
Shame reddens my cheeks.
All this time I’ve hated the academy because it’s an inconvenience. I never once thought about the good it could bring to others. What does that say about me? Am I a selfish person who only thinks about swimming and my own happiness? When did I become so self-absorbed?
Eric sits back, one arm stretched to the chair next to him.
“When was the last time you spoke to your dad?”
“When he grounded me the second time,” I reply.
He shakes his head. “Bummer.”
“You can say that again.”
Eric moves a little closer to me. I’m not sure if it’s the fire, or him, but it suddenly feels a little bit warmer.
“You know what growing up without parents has taught me?”
“What?”
“That sometimes you have to cut people some slack and let it go.”
“Yeah. You don’t know my dad. He doesn’t care what I want or feel.”
“But he’s still your dad. And he’s the only one you’ve got. You have to keep trying and hope that one day he’ll come around.”