Sincerely, Yours

by G. , Whitney

  “There’s nothing easy about living on a ship with no Wi-Fi and strangers for three years.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Well, I truly understand that you’re upset but—”

  “You don't understand anything.” I cut him off and stood to my feet. “You're telling me that I completed three years of college on a boat for shits and giggles.”

  “I wouldn't necessarily say ‘shits and giggles’, per se. I’m sure you learned a hell of a lot while you were away, and I’m sure you’ll treasure those experiences for a lifetime.”

  "I would've if you'd told me that I was going to be the only freshman onboard for the first year, or if you would've told me that most people only do a semester at a time." I glared at him and picked up my purse. “I should’ve known you were full of it when you let me sign up for the program as a freshman.”

  “A lot of freshmen do Semester at Sea, Miss Dawson.” He looked offended. “It varies from year to year. And you were happily signing off on all the final forms, from what I remember.”

  “Do you get a kickback or a bonus for every student who signs up for the longer terms?”

  “What?” his face paled. “What the hell are you trying to say?”

  “Nothing.” I headed to the door. “Your face says it all.”

  * * *

  Later that night, I sat in Ethan’s lap in the hot tub, looking out at the ocean. He was eyeing me intently, trailing his fingers against my lips. Even though I was pissed about the state of my college career, I was sure that being with Ethan was what it felt like to be in a great relationship. If not, it had to be pretty damn close.

  “Are you going to say something?” he asked. “You’ve been quiet all night.”

  “Would you care if I did Semester at Sea again?”

  “Depends.” He moved his hand away. “What would be the reason?”

  “Because my dumbass advisor screwed me over.” My voice cracked. “Twenty-five percent of the credits I got onboard don’t count, so I’m technically still a junior. He said I can either do a spring and a part-time summer semester on board or do an additional year and a half here on campus. He even said I can get on board on the next winter departure, which is utter bullshit.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “I haven't told him anything yet. I need to think about it.”

  He caressed my back. “Well, if you go back, it’s not like we haven’t written each other letters before.”

  “That was before we were a couple and started having sex.”

  He smiled, letting out a low laugh. “You honestly think I would cheat on you while you were gone?”

  “No …”

  “Okay, then. What’s the problem?”

  “I just need to think about it.” I leaned against his chest. “Can we talk about something else?”

  “Sure,” he said. “I have good news.”

  “Is it that Greg finally has a new girlfriend?”

  “He does, but that’s not what I’m talking about.” He kissed my lips. “I was accepted into Hudson University’s Accelerated MBA program. It’s in New York.”

  “Oh.” I forced a smile, feeling my heart sink. “That’s … That’s great. What makes it accelerated?”

  “The fact that I start next semester.” He kissed me again, much longer this time. “See? We’ll be separated again no matter what path you choose.”

  “What happened to pursuing the writing programs, Ethan?” I asked. “You hate business.”

  “Is that why I have all A’s in it?”

  “You have all A’s in it because math and everything that's remotely connected to math has always come easily to you,” I said, looking into his eyes. “For someone who was always so hell-bent on telling me to pursue art, you going to Hudson makes you look like one hell of a hypocrite.”

  He raised his eyebrow. “You’re upset about this?”

  I didn’t answer.

  He blinked and gently gripped my hips, moving me out of his lap. Then he stood up and stepped out of the hot tub.

  “I believe the word you’re looking for is ‘Congratulations,’ Rachel,” he said. “That’s typically the first thing someone says after finding out about an accomplishment.”

  “I’ll give you a ‘congratulations’ when you get into a program you want to join. Something writing-related that'll help you finish the novel you've been working on since you were a freshman. You're still working on it, right?”

  “Yes ...” He clenched his jaw. “I told you I was going to finish it sometime next year.”

  “In your letters, you said you were eighty percent finished with it. Why not just complete it and apply to a few writing programs, instead of doing what your dad expects you to do? Instead of working toward receiving a company that you don’t even want to own?”

  Silence.

  “I don’t want to argue with you about this, Rachel," he said. “Not right now, anyway.”

  “You're the one who’s making a scene and getting out of the hot tub.” I crossed my arms, and his lips curved into a smile. “It wasn't me being a hot head this time. I was just giving you my honest thoughts as your so-called girlfriend. I don’t remember reading about you arguing with any of your others.”

  “I honestly don’t remember any of the others.” He laughed and bent down, pulling me out of the water. “How about we talk about something other than the future for the rest of the night?”

  “I’d like that. What do you want to talk about?”

  “I think we should discuss the fact that Greg is out of town for an entire weekend, and we have the entire house to ourselves.” He tugged the string of my bikini bottom, letting it fall into the hot tub. “And by ‘discuss,’ I'm not really interested in talking …”

  Track 22. Shake It Off (2:22)

  Ethan

  “You going to Hudson makes you look like one hell of a hypocrite.”

  I pulled a blanket over Rachel the next morning, kissing her forehead before getting dressed. Despite having sex all over our house for the entire night, I hadn’t been able to get some of her words out of my head, and I was still slightly upset.

  She didn’t even give me a chance to explain that the program was only for a year (hence the word “accelerated”) and I was guaranteed a six-figure job upon completion. I was going to tell her that I planned to take a gap-year afterwards and pursue writing for a while.

  Then again, I should’ve known that she would react that way.

  She’s still a goddamn hot-head.

  “Where are you going?” She murmured, rolling over. “Ethan?”

  “To my dad’s office. You want something on my way back?”

  “Yeah …” She looked at me. “Can you let me see the first few pages of your novel? You never let me read it.”

  “I’ll think about it,” I said, walking over and kissing her forehead. “By ‘something,’ I was referring to what you may want from a store or a café.”

  “Hot chocolate from Gayle’s. Two cups.”

  I laughed and hit the lights. “I’ll be back with that in twenty.”

  Fifteen minutes later, I walked into the office suite at my dad’s construction company and set my intention letter for Hudson University on his desk.

  “Wow.” He picked up the paper and smiled. “Now, this is the type of ‘creative writing’ I’m talking about, Ethan. These are the type of words that will get you someplace in life.”

  “I didn’t come here to talk,” I said. “I just wanted to let you know I’ll be moving away soon.”

  “Well, thank you for taking the right path.” He smiled as he leaned back in his chair. “I can’t wait until you finish, so I can show you all the things you’re going to love about running this place. Okay, well, maybe not love, but it’ll pay your bills and you’ll get to do things you love on your off days.”

  “Right.” I rolled my eyes and picked up my letter. “Like I said, I’m not here to talk, and I’m not sure if I want to work at your company whe
n I’m finished anyway. I told you I’d consider it.”

  His expression hardened. “Ethan, this is a seven-figure business that I’m willing to give you, no questions asked. Do you have any idea how I would’ve felt if my father promised the same for me when I was your age?”

  I can make a pretty good guess … “I have no idea.”

  “Well, I would’ve felt honored, and you should feel the same,” he said, pulling out his laptop. “Show me your school’s log-in portal, so I can see what specialties you’ll work on during the first few months. I’ll do my best to tailor my lessons in sync with yours.”

  “You do know that Hudson University is in New York, right?”

  “Yeah.” He shrugged. “What better way to finally Skype each other, since you’ll be doing that to reach all your future clients? Oh, and since you’re doing an accelerated program instead of the standard one, that means I don’t have as much time to get all the transition guides ready for you.” He turned the laptop’s screen toward me, talking a mile a minute about shit I couldn’t care less about, and for a split second, I wondered if Rachel had a point.

  Track 23. Wildest Dreams (2:09)

  Rachel

  On a Saturday night, I sat across from Ethan, Penelope, and Greg in our rooftop pool as they laughed about all the crazy things they’d done over their college careers. Halfway listening, I felt my heart ache at the realization that I didn’t have much to add to the conversation. That my first semester on campus was one of their last, and I wanted it to last forever.

  I don’t want to get back on that goddamn ship …

  As Greg and Ethan swam to the deep end with Penelope following, I grabbed my phone from the deck and sent my advisor an email.

  Subject: My options.

  Mr. Hinton,

  I would like to let you know that although I am highly upset with how my credits (and the information about them) were handled, I have decided to choose the first option to complete the necessary credits for my degree.

  Since I have a 4.0 GPA and two acceptance letters from graduate programs that were due to start next fall, I would also like to request a written explanation from your office so that they may consider holding my spot until I finish my undergraduate studies.

  Thank you,

  Rachel

  Track 24. Mean (3:47)

  Rachel

  One week later

  “I can’t believe that I’m dating Greg Charleston,” Penelope said, taking a seat next to me at Gayle’s on a Thursday night. We’d weathered the hour-long wait for a table in the rain, and the waitress was making our night so far with endless cups of hot chocolate.

  “Like, out of all the guys on this campus, I decide to go for one of the biggest ass-holes. The guy who walked up to me with the worst pickup line I’ve ever heard.”

  “He’s also the mayor’s son.” I smiled, sipping my drink. “Doesn’t that make dating him somewhat better?”

  “Not at all.” She laughed. “The sex does that.”

  “Is it that good?”

  “Good isn’t even the right word for it.” She waved at him and Ethan as they walked into the diner. “I haven’t gone a day without orgasms since we started dating.”

  Ethan kissed my cheek before sitting next to me, and Greg signaled for the waitress.

  “Sorry we’re late,” Ethan whispered. “Greg wanted to stop for Penelope’s birthday card.”

  I raised my eyebrow. “That’s not until next month.”

  “He wanted to buy it before he forgot.”

  “Hey!” Greg wagged his finger. “No whispering tonight, enemies. It’s night one of a three week-long celebration and you’ll have plenty of time later to do that whispering shit.”

  I shook my head. “What exactly are we celebrating?”

  “Us getting a new roommate soon,” he said, laughing. “But more importantly, Ethan moving to New York for business school next month.”

  WHAT? “I’m sorry, what?” I looked at Ethan. “Next month?”

  He nodded, smiling. “I made up my mind the other day. I planned to lay out all the details tonight, since I know you’ll have plenty of questions. You can even join me this weekend when I leave for my pre-campus visit. I’ll be there for a full week, but I’d love for you to be there with me for some of the days.” He kissed my cheek, and my blood ran cold.

  “To New York dreams!” Greg raised his cup for a toast, and Penelope and Ethan joined him.

  I faked a smile and leaned back against the booth.

  “To New York dreams!” they all said in unison one more time.

  I sat still and listened as Ethan told them about all the things he was looking forward to in New York, all the plans and preparations he’d made without letting me in on a goddamn thing. Since he had plenty of credits and his professors had all conspired to waive his final semester of electives, he would be awarded his two degrees this winter.

  Not that he would be able to attend his graduation, though.

  There was a pre-campus visit this week, an orientation session two and a half weeks after that, and after one final week of intensive placement and specialty tests, he’d be taking classes six days a week once January came.

  When Greg insisted on showing Penelope the famous “Carter & Ari” booth on the other side of the diner, I cleared my throat.

  “Ethan?”

  “Yes?” He smiled, turning me on and making me temporarily forget that I was upset.

  “Can I talk to you outside for a minute?”

  “Of course.” He stood up and clasped my hand, leading me through the dining room and outside into the rain. He let up an umbrella and held it over my head, walking me to a nearby alley.

  “What do you want to talk about?”

  “I could’ve sworn we said that we were going to talk about our futures together before we made any decisions.”

  “No, we said that we were just going to talk about it later,” he said. “That last part was never agreed to, especially since you made your decision already.”

  “My decision doesn’t count since it’s the right one.” I crossed my arms. “If you’re going to New York next month, where does that leave us?”

  “What do you mean, where does that leave us?” He rolled his eyes and stepped back, letting me hold the umbrella. “We’ll still be together, Rachel. It’s just New York, and I can fly back to see you on Sundays. Or I can fly you up to see me anytime you want.”

  “Let me get this straight …” I paused, feeling my blood beginning to boil. “I’m willing to stay here for a year and a half—to take fucking fluff courses, just so I can be around you, and you couldn’t tell me that you were already making moves to go to New York? You didn’t just make up your mind about this ‘the other day,’ Ethan. You fucking knew.”

  “I also fucking knew how you would react, so I thought it would be better if we talked about it in private.”

  “Oh, yeah? Well, how’s that line of thinking going for you so far? Is this better than what you envisioned?”

  “It’s shockingly worse.” He shook his head. “But I’m doing what’s best for me, and as my girlfriend, you need to respect that.”

  “If you truly felt that this was best, you would’ve told me before Greg,” I said. “If this program was what truly made you happy, then you would talk about it as much as you talk about ‘us’ and writing.”

  “I haven’t talked about ‘us’ since you couldn’t even try to be happy for me.” He clenched his jaw. “And this may not be my dream program, but the job I get afterwards will help me with the bills while I pursue writing. If you’d listen for a change, maybe I could explain.”

  “I’m fucking listening, Ethan,” I narrowed my eyes at him. “I just can’t hear through all the bullshit. If I’d known that you were going to New York, I would’ve—”

  “Done the same goddamn thing.” He hissed. “You would stay here because that’s the most romantic option, because you’re incapable of making logical decisio
ns and you base everything off how you feel and what you read in your goddamn romance books.” He stepped closer, glaring at me. “Instead of going to college like a normal person, you joined Semester at Sea because you were mad about something I said.”

  “I was mad about something you did.”

  “Same difference.” He shrugged. “Look at where that got you. You’re a year and a half behind on credits with three years of time on a ship you hated, all because someone hurt your goddamn feelings. You’re willing to stay and take pointless ass courses to be close to someone you’ve only been dating for a couple months.”

  Silence.

  The rain fell a bit harder, and neither of us said a word for several minutes. My heart reeled at his cold description of our relationship, and it pounded heavily against my chest. It begged me to walk away and finish this later, before I said something I might regret, but I stayed put.

  “As much as I would like to stay here for another semester and spend more time with you,” he said, sighing, “I have an opportunity that’ll get me an MBA in a shorter amount of time, so—”

  “You don’t even want an MBA, Ethan!” I interrupted him. “That’s my whole fucking point! You’re just scared to take a fucking risk and do something different because the outcome isn’t guaranteed.”

  “Now, you’re finally thinking like a logical person,” he said, his voice terse. “Congratulations. It only took you over twenty years.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “I’m too upset to even think about fucking you right now.”

  “You know that’s not what I mean.”

  “That’s what you should mean.”

  “You know what?” I shook my head and stepped onto the sidewalk. “Tell Penelope and Greg I’m not feeling well and decided to go home. Or you can tell them I left because of my fucking emotions. Your choice.”