She unleashes one of her killer smiles at me and it makes me freeze. She’s the sexiest angel on earth. I lean against the door until it clicks shut, and walk over to the stereo to put in my CD.
“It’s Ryan Adams’ new album,” I tell her. “I thought we could turn off the lights and listen to it. Naked.” I stand up and start to un-do the buttons of my uniform.
“Wait,” she says. “I really want to do that.”
She walks over to me and I wrap my arms low around her waist and when I discover she’s wearing a thong, my fingers dig into her skin. I pull our hips together. All the blood in my body rushes to one place with so much force it makes me shudder. I unbutton her bra with the first try and slip it off, but she hasn’t even managed to undo one button yet.
“I hate these things,” she mumbles and I graze my lips across hers. “Can’t they snap off?” she says.
“Or be Velcro,” I offer as I undo a couple buttons for her. She leans her head away from me.
“That’s brilliant,” she says. “That’s what we need to invent. Dresses and shirts and pants that can be ripped off in one swift motion.”
She looks at me expectantly, like I’m going to stop everything and agree to patent her new fashion line idea. Instead, I lean into her neck.
“We can call the brand ‘easy access,’” she says. “We’ll make millions.”
“Dylan,” I say, and look into her eyes, two inches away from mine. “Shut up.” I lift her up and carry her over to the bed, keeping my lips suctioned to hers because even though I love hearing her strange ideas, I’m not in the mood to talk.
For the first time in six months, my head is clear. The world is set right again. Happiness is flooding through me. I feel like I’m back. It’s me again. I’m whole. All the drama deflates because, finally, I’m smart enough to let go
DYLAN
I meet Gray on campus the next afternoon at the bottom of the Union steps and he throws an arm around me. It feels normal, like this has always been our routine, like I meet him on campus every afternoon and we grab lunch and reminisce about our completely amazing sex life.
“I have a few hours before practice,” he says. “What do you want to do?” He kisses my neck and I wrap my fingers in his. We start walking down the sidewalk and his fingers play around inside mine, feeling and squeezing. I’m not a fan of public displays of affection, but I can’t keep my hands off of Gray. Especially when he wears his baseball cap backwards so his eyes are in full view and his arm is tight around me.
“Let’s do something nice for somebody,” I say.
“Why?” he asks. People pass by and I can tell by their double takes that they recognize him, but he’s oblivious.
“What do you mean why? Because you should always do things for other people,” I say and lean against him.
“Why don’t you do something nice for me? Like take me back to your place and get me naked?”
I grin as he runs his hand up my waist. “Get your brain out of your pants.”
He nods to a few guys that say hi to him and I watch a group of girls pass and narrow their eyes in my direction. I smile back at them.
“What is it with you and helping people?” he asks as we weave around a few students on skateboards.
“I try to do one nice thing a day for somebody else.”
“Give me a break,” he says.
We pass an open courtyard, surrounded by campus buildings. In the center is a carpet of grass, crowded with students laying out and eating lunch. We sit down on a bench and watch a man wearing cut-off jean shorts juggle three sticks in the middle of the courtyard.
“Okay, fine,” Gray says. “Let’s do something nice for somebody. How about we buy that juggler some shorts that actually fit? No man should reveal that much thigh to the world.”
I look at the man’s skinny legs and point out he has nice thighs. Gray responds by running his hand up my own leg until it’s resting on the inside of my thigh. He slowly glides his hand up until I pull it away. I stare at his grin with fascination. I wonder if I’ll ever get used to his smile.
“So, what’s your idea?” he asks me. I tell Gray it depends on the person.
“Sometimes I’ll close my eyes and point to someone’s name in the phonebook and write them a ‘thinking of you’ card. We could do that.”
“That gesture’s a little more creepy than nice,” he points out.
“Come on, isn’t there someone you know that could use a favor?” I ask him. He looks at me and his eyes turn thoughtful because he can tell I’m serious. He turns to study the buildings in front of us and I think he’s going to throw me another sarcastic comment, but he stands and pulls me up next to him.
“I know who we can help,” he tells me. We cross the courtyard and head towards an office building with a sign that says “Admissions.”
GRAY
Three hours later, we head to the Brew House with a stack of papers. Dylan has me go in alone, so Lenny doesn’t feel like we’re ganging up on her. When I walk in, I find Lenny sitting in the back of the restaurant going over some paperwork. She offers me a grim smile when she sees me, one that looks forced. I study her solemn expression and for the first time, I realize she always looks like this. Unhappy. Frustrated. Pissed off at the world. Maybe I never saw it before because that’s how I felt. I was so unhappy I didn’t even notice. My throat starts to get tight. I should have done this for Lenny months ago. I hate it that Dylan’s always right, as if she holds life and people and friends under a magnifying glass for me, so I see everything clearly. Why can’t I learn to see these things on my own?
“Hey,” I say. She raises an eyebrow at me. “I have a surprise for you.”
I sit down across from her and set a pile of papers on the table between us.
“Wow,” she says. “Thanks. I’ve always wanted your class notes.”
“They’re applications, smartass, to fill out so you can start school in the fall. You might even be able to take summer school if you register soon enough.”
She examines the papers with a frown. She pushes them back at me, as if I just offered her food she’s allergic to. She says it’s a nice thought but it’s not going to happen.
I’m not giving up that easy. “I talked to an advisor. She can help you figure out all the classes you’ll need for the nursing program. She gave me her card.” I take the business card out of my pocket and set it on the pile. Lenny picks it up. For an instant she looks curious, but then she shakes her head and sets the card down.
“I don’t think so. Thanks anyway.” She blows me off and focuses back on the binder she was working on. Why did I have to pick the most stubborn person in Albuquerque to try and help? I shove her binder to edge of the table.
“What’s your problem?” she says.
“What’s your problem? Why won’t you at least try?” I ask. “Are you worried you won’t get in?” I ask.
“No,” Lenny shoots back. “I was already accepted two years ago. I never registered for classes because unlike most of the spoiled brats at this school, mom and dad can’t pay for my education. I don’t get a go-to-college-for-free credit card. In fact, mom borrows money from me half the time to help pay rent. Get it? I can’t go to school and work full time.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “A lot of people go to school without any help. It’s called student loans. And maybe you can work part time during school.”
Lenny shakes her head. “It won’t work. But thanks for trying. Really.”
I tap my foot against the ground and try to read what she’s thinking. “Why are you so afraid of doing something for yourself?” I ask.
“Excuse me?”
I look around the café. “You hate this job. You complain about it every single day. So, why are you wasting your time? What are you afraid of?”
Lenny frowns. “Dylan put you up to this, didn’t she?” Before I answer she leans over the table and lashes out at me. “Well not everyone’s as ballsy as Dylan, o
kay? My mom would shit a brick if she found out I left a full time management position, with benefits and a salary, to go back to school and rack up student loans. My parents didn’t go to college. They don’t understand. My mom didn’t even graduate from high school. And Dad isn’t much help, since we haven’t heard from him in six months. I’m the only thing holding us together right now.”
This is so strange, to hear these words. To listen to Lenny’s situation. She’s in the same dilemma I was in back in Phoenix. Feeling responsible. Stuck. Seeing no way out until someone believes in you, forces you to have the courage to change. But I was never selfless enough to help Lenny. I was too busy feeling sorry for myself.
“I bet your mom wants you to be happy,” I say.
Lenny takes a deep breath. “She also wants to be able to pay the electricity bill. I can’t afford school right now. We’re broke.”
I tap my fingers on the table. “What if somebody paid for you to go to school?”
She stares at me. “What are you saying, Gray? You’re going to hook me up with
a sugar daddy? Is there some ‘sex for school’ program I’m unaware of?”
I smile back at her. Just like me, she turns something serious into a joke when she doesn’t want to face it. “I’m saying you can apply for a scholarship. If someone paid for you to go to school, would your mom be happier about it?”
Lenny shakes her head. “I’m not going to get a scholarship. I don’t play sports and I wasn’t a valedictorian of my high school.”
“You’re missing something obvious here,” I say.
“What? Is there a scholarship available for disgruntled food industry workers?”
Dylan pointed this out to me at the admissions office and it never even occurred to me, but it’s perfect. It’s Lenny’s chance.
I still have a few papers in my hand and I throw them on the table. “Just read them over, that’s all I ask.”
She picks up the papers. “What are these?”
“Every year they offer full-ride scholarships for minority students. You’re also really smart and an over-achiever. You have a great shot at getting one of these scholarships.”
She stares down at the papers. “How did you find these?”
“We did some research.”
She stares back at me. “We?”
“Okay, maybe Dylan pressed this.”
Her mouth twitches. She’s almost smiling and for Lenny, that’s a breakthrough.
“I also wrote you a letter of recommendation.” I ruffle through the pile and pull out the letter that Dylan and I threw together at an extra computer in the admissions office. She picks it up and starts to read it and her mouth trembles. Oh, my God, I cannot handle seeing Lenny cry. No way. She looks up at me and there are tears in her eyes, but I pretend I don’t notice. We don’t do sentimental stuff. I stick to business because I know Lenny would rather vomit than do the sappy cry-in-my-arms hug.
“You need two more letters of recommendation,” I say. “I also scheduled a time for you to meet with that advisor.” She shakes her head because I know her schedule as well as she does. I point out the time on the back of the business card.
“Thanks.”
I stand up, but before I leave, I add one more thing. A sincere regret. “Sorry I didn’t do this for you sooner.”
She smiles.
I head out the door and Dylan’s down the street waiting for me. She’s taking a picture of something on the ground that’s invisible to the average eye. She’s sprawled on the sidewalk and I remember the first day we met—that dusty courtyard in Phoenix, and I think how incredible it is that a single person can change your life. I’ll do anything for her now. Anything. She helps people become twice their potential. She deserves the same thing in return.
GRAY
We’re all eating dinner Sunday night and Dylan’s sitting across from me. I notice how, lately, her outfits all match and fit her. I have to admit, she looks good. The clothes show off her body and she can pull off anything because she’s so tall and wiry. But it’s also a little disappointing, because suddenly Dylan is fitting in. The change makes me feel unsettled because in the back of my mind, I know it’s me that she’s trying to please.
Over dinner, Liz is discussing wedding plans and all the guys nod politely like we care. She suggests Dylan look into doing wedding photography in Albuquerque this summer.
“It’s really good money. We’re paying a photographer three hundred dollars for two hours of work,” she says.
“I’d love it,” Dylan says. “But I won’t be here this summer.”
I already know this. Dylan has restless cells and they lose their shimmer if she’s too stagnant. The rest of the table is stunned. In their eyes, Dylan’s life is here. Settled. Next comes routine.
“Where are you going?” Travis asks.
Dylan explains she’s been a kayaking instructor for the past few years in Northern Wisconsin. She guides trips through sea caves in Lake Superior, and leads camping trips in the Apostle Islands. Her eyes light up while she talks about it. She says it’s the best way to spend the summer, that she’s paid to watch the sunset over the Great Lakes. She can’t pass it up.
“So it’s just a summer thing? You’re coming back here next fall, right?” Liz presses.
“Of course you are,” Cat finishes. “I promise not to raise your rent.”
I wait for the words. Here they come. Any second now.
“I wasn’t planning on living here next fall.”
I listen for a fork to drop. Someone to gasp. Choke. At least a beverage to get knocked over by a shaky hand. But it’s just dead silence.
I look across the table at Dylan. The eclipse is just beginning to start.
“Why not?” Miles asks and his eyes quickly flicker to mine. He’s gauging my reaction, but I’m already prepared for all this. All along I’ve known I’ll have to let her go because I understand her better than anyone.
Dylan shrugs. “I just hadn’t planned on staying here permanently,” she says. She sets down her glass and her eyes skitter over all of the faces staring in her direction. Even Dylan can get nervous being center stage. “I’m a traveler,” she says, like it’s simple, like we should accept her and leave her alone about it. Dylan never judges a soul; she never questions people’s motives or choices. She’s the most open minded person I’ve ever met, yet everyone loves to judge her.
“You’re a traveler?” Travis says. “What does that mean?”
Dylan extends her arms out wide. “It’s a big world. I think life expands in proportion to how open you are to it. I want to experience as much as I can. Especially while I’m young. Now’s the time to do it.”
“Well, you’ve gone to all this trouble to get your photography business started,” Todd says. “It’s just taking off. It’s a pretty stupid career move if you ask me.”
“Photography isn’t my job. I’m not looking for a career right now.”
“But you’re really talented,” Bubba says. I’m impressed to hear him compliment someone. Even thick-shelled Bubba has a soft spot for Dylan.
“I love it,” Dylan says. “But it’s not what defines me. I don’t want anything to define me.”
“Do you have something against Albuquerque?” Liz asks.
“What about Gray?” Lenny presses. I shoot Lenny a warning look.
“What about your friends?” Cat asks. “Don’t you want to come back here?”
“What are you running away from?” Todd adds.
“Why can’t you just stay in one place and make the most of it?” Travis demands.
Dylan raises her hands out like she’s trying to block their words with a shield.
“Just, listen. I’m not running away. I’m sorry. I love you all. You’ve made this an unforgettable time and I’ll definitely be back to visit, but I never planned on living here.”
“Why not?” Liz demands.
I stare at Dylan. Explain yourself. Explain why permanence scare
s you so much.
“Look, you all have passions that motivate you. You’re all pursuing your own things. You have baseball or school or jobs. Well, I have this calling to move around and to meet people. It’s what inspires me. That’s the best way I can explain it.”
Her perfect mouth falls into a frown. For a tiny instant, I see her wither. And it hurts me to see it because she’s more amazing than anyone I’ve ever met. She’ll go further than any of us. She has a capacity to love more than all of us combined. That’s why I know she’ll bounce back. She has to. She’ll follow her heart before she lets a stampede of opinions knock her down.
***
After dinner, Dylan follows me up to my room. She knows I have to study so she picks up her backpack and leans over me to give me a kiss goodnight. I’m not letting her go that easy. I pull her up onto the bed with me until she’s in my lap and I lean against the wall and hold her close because I feel the need to protect her. Maybe Dylan’s right. People love her and crave and need her, but so few understand her.
“What’s wrong?” I ask. She’s been quiet since dinner. Reflective. Self-conscious. It’s making me feel guilty, like I’m the one that’s responsible. I brush her hair back so I can see her face.
“I hate talking about myself.”
“Too bad.” I shift her on my lap so she’s facing me.
“I don’t even like thinking about myself. It’s a waste of time.”
“You have to think about yourself once in a while.”
She thinks about this. “Why?”
“Because people will walk all over you if you don’t. Come on, Dylan. You can sit and analyze a cloud for an hour, and you can’t even tell me what’s wrong?”
She looks up at my ceiling as if there’s a sky above us.
“It’s the dinner conversation,” I say, since she’s being too stubborn to bring it up.
“Dinner attack is more like it. It came from all sides. These blasts of questions. It was like a public stoning.” She takes a deep breath and focuses on me. “Am I selfish, Gray?”
I shake my head. “Who cares what other people think? Don’t let other people’s opinions make you second guess what’s important to you. You can’t make everybody happy, believe me.”
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