The Smartest Girl in the Room

by Deborah Nam-Krane

  "Yeah, that’s a little bit much."

  "You might have better luck. You’re what, five foot seven?"

  "Yeah, but the chemistry isn’t there."

  Emily looked from side to side. "You think there’s chemistry between me and him?"

  "Yes! He was totally into you, and you know you were kind of into that."

  "It’s nice to have someone like you, but shouldn’t you like them just as much?"

  "Is that what’s getting to you? That he likes you more than you like him?"

  "Maybe. It just doesn’t seem fair."

  Zainab laughed out loud. "Are you sure you’ve dated before? I don’t know anyone else who agonizes over ‘fair’ before a first date."

  "I know what it’s like to be the one getting the emotional shaft. I don’t want to be the one giving it."

  "What brings this up all of a sudden?"

  "I think he’s going to ask me to do something with him this week, and I’m not sure what I should say. I don’t want to lead him on."

  "You know, pizza and soda don’t always lead to a marriage proposal."

  "No, but... I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings."

  "So tell him that upfront."

  "That pizza equals pizza, nothing more?"

  "And that beverages don’t get any extra privileges."

  "Why do you think I always try to buy my own tea?" They both laughed, and talked about Zainab’s finals for a few more minutes. Emily looked at her watch and sighed. "I’ve got to go."

  "Where?"

  "I need to do a little shopping."

  "It’s about time! But I don’t think the thrift stores are closing that soon."

  "Don’t mock my thrift shops." Especially now. "And on a completely unrelated topic, are you coming to Jessie’s Christmas party? She’s already texted me five times about it today."

  "I can’t. Mummy and Daddy are demanding my presence for Christmas. I’m leaving on Sunday after I have a chance to drown my finals sorrows."

  "Then please text her back. I’m not your social secretary."

  "Fine, fine, fine. But you’d better give me frequent updates. I want to know how things go with Drew."

  "I promise. All of the gory details as they develop- and right before I ask you about your finals."

  Zainab threw her head back and pretended to cry. "Okay- bye!"

  Emily sighed once she was back in the cold, off to see another room she knew she wouldn’t be able to afford.

  CHAPTER 17

  Mitch walked back to Kyra’s apartment. He tried to watch himself without judgment. Hadn’t he read that once in some book on yoga he had picked up in a bookstore? Yoga. Didn’t she say... stop thinking about yoga, he snapped to himself.

  That was his thought when he got to Kyra. "Please, don’t just stand there," she said, pulling him in with both hands. He let himself be pulled in. "Please let me make it up to you." She kissed him, and before he knew it she was unbuttoning his shirt, pulling him to bed, taking off his boots, pulling down his pants and begging him to kiss her back. And he did.

  Hours later, Kyra turned off the light. "I’m so glad you’re here tonight," she said, wrapping her arms around him. "I’ve wanted to wake up next to you for so long." He was quiet, stroking her hair and looking up at the ceiling again. "Do you think we’ll get to be this way in Ireland?"

  "That’s the whole point, isn’t it?" He wasn’t thinking.

  "Do you think that’s all I want you for?"

  "Have we done anything else?" Mitch asked.

  "Is that all you want me for?"

  "I don’t think so, but you don’t seem to have any interest in anything else. We never go out, or see other people. Is there anything else we have in common?" Mitch said.

  "Mitch... I’m sorry. But you know, we’ll be able to ‘mingle’ more when we’re abroad. I’m hoping we’re in a lot of the same classes together." She stroked his chest. "Yeah, you can help me with my homework."

  He was tired. "Okay, but you’re going to have to do the tutoring on Irish literature, if you don’t mind."

  "My pleasure." She kissed him and caressed his face. "Are we going to be okay now?"

  He nodded sleepily. "Yeah, we’ll be okay now. Come on, I’ve got another final coming up that I don’t want to blow. Let’s get some sleep." She snuggled into his arms and fell asleep.

  Wasn’t there something I was supposed to do? He wondered before he drifted off.

  ~~~

  Indeed, Emily hadn’t been able to afford any of the rooms she saw. She returned to the library to get some review time in before the last bus home.

  She was sitting on the bus when her phone rang. "Emily? Hi, it’s Drew. Sorry. Is it too late to call?"

  "Not yet. What’s up?"

  "I was wondering what you were doing tomorrow? You know, aside from taking finals." He laughed at himself again.

  "Let’s see... I have one at ten, and then another at one. What about you?"

  "I should be free after one."

  "Yeah, well, I’m going to be going at it until two-thirty at least."

  "Two in one day is pretty rough, man."

  She smiled at the familiarity. "I’d be happy to take my last one tomorrow if I could, but I have to wait until Thursday for the pleasure."

  "Well, maybe you can let me get you dinner in between finals. I mean, the finals on Wednesday and Thursday."

  No finessing out of that. That was date-worthy. "What did you have in mind?"

  "How does Legal Seafood sound?"

  Too expensive. "No, that’s not going to work. I’m a vegetarian," she said quickly.

  "Oh... so what do you usually get?"

  "Good old home cooking." She yawned. "But I have been known to eat Indian."

  "Hmm... I’m not too crazy about Indian. The spiciness doesn’t agree with me."

  "Sushi?"

  "You eat fish?"

  "No, but I’ve always been able to get vegetable sushi." Plus it could usually be had pretty cheaply.

  "Great! Where do you usually go?"

  "How about Kaya? It’s on Boylston Street."

  "I think I know where that is. What time?"

  "How about six-thirty?"

  "Sounds like a plan! See you then."

  "Sounds good." She hung up, feeling her breath seize up in her chest. Was that a big mistake?

  CHAPTER 18

  Emily wrote the Great American Novel for her ten AM final, or so she thought. She finished in time, but just barely. She didn’t like that feeling of just making it, but took some consolation that others were still working after the "pens down" command of the professor. The professor, for his part, was feeling generous and gave the stragglers an extra fifteen minutes.

  She warmed herself in the Math Lounge for forty minutes and then walked to her final at one. That one was significantly easier. She wasn’t done at two, but she did hand in the exam by two-thirty with ease. She thanked the professor before walking to the library to start to study for her last final.

  She’d studied hard, but there were a few things she still needed to get under her belt. She ground down, murmured out loud, and began repeating to herself what she needed to know. Before long... she had it. She looked at the clock. It was five. She was done. She was ready.

  She flipped her pen over and over again. Yep, this was great. She was going to ace this quarter. Great. She deserved to enjoy herself tonight with Drew and eat all of the sushi she could stuff into her mouth. Right?

  Nope. This wasn’t real. She still didn’t have a place to stay at the end of the week, which was the day after tomorrow. She hadn’t said much more than "excuse me" to her mother since their argument, but she could tell that she was waiting for her to apologize... for wanting books. She had already reserved her books to the tune of four hundred and seventy-nine dollars, which was just great because now she had even less money to give someone for rent. And, oh yeah, let’s not forget utilities. The thought of sushi became that much less
appetizing.

  She took the circuitous route to Boylston Street, walking through Gainsborough and Hemenway before winding back through the Reflecting Pool. She kept turning it over in her mind. She was not going to apologize to her mother when there were books, a love seat and high school on her side. It was going to be impossible to find a job that would let her finish in two quarters. She needed to finish in two quarters because she couldn’t be sure her mother was going to stay any longer than that. She wasn’t going to take out loans because she didn’t want them hanging over her head after she graduated. She'd had something hanging over head since before she could remember. She couldn’t tell Zainab...

  She stopped. She couldn’t tell her best friend who would probably love her company because she was too damn proud to let her see how messed up her life was. No one understood a messed up life if they didn’t have one themselves. Right?

  She started walking again. It was time to grow up at least that much. Zainab would understand, and help. Zainab would probably be upset that Emily hadn’t already told her.

  Emily felt a tear roll down her cheek. It was going to be okay. She was going to have dinner with Drew and enjoy it. Then she was going to go home and go to sleep. She was going to take her final the next day, have coffee with Zainab, tell her everything, and then probably go home with her that night. It was going to be okay.

  CHAPTER 19

  Emily got to Kaya at 6:20. Chronically early. She expected to wait in the lounge for fifteen minutes, but she was surprised to find Drew sitting at the bar. "There you are!"

  "How long have you been waiting?"

  "I think about ten minutes."

  "Didn’t we say six-thirty?"

  "We did, but, you know," he grinned.

  They were seated at their table. Drew picked up his menu. "So… why did you suggest this place?"

  She shrugged. "My dad took me here once when I was little. He said it was one of the few places he felt like he could get real Korean food, even if the name is Japanese."

  Drew sipped his tea. "And why was authentic Korean food important?"

  "He was Korean. I mean, he is Korean. Everyone can do bulgogi, he said, but this was one of the few places that could get the chap chae just right."

  "Bulgogi would be…?"

  "The Korean-American national dish. Thin strips of beef, garlic, scallions, ginger, sesame, soy, sugar, lion, tigers, bears- oh my! Pretty much everyone likes it."

  "Except you."

  "Oh, no. I was a bulgogi champ. It was one of the few ways I didn’t disappoint my father. Of course, when the kimchi came out, it would be ‘how can you be Korean?’, but he got that out of his system at the beginning of the meal."

  "What’s kimchi and what’s wrong with it?"

  "Nothing, now that I’m not eight anymore. It’s spicy pickled cabbage, and it may very well be the Korean national dish, but it was too much when I was little."

  "Hmm."

  The waitress brought out the green tea and took their order. Emily ordered the vegetable sushi and miso soup and Drew ordered the bulgogi and sushi.

  "Yummy green tea, the latest superfood."

  Drew frowned. "Superfood?"

  Emily laughed. "You know, all that BS about food that has more nutrients than almost anything else. Blueberries, pomegranate, chocolate, soy, greens, yogurt. And then people OD on them, and they’re surprised when they not only haven’t cured themselves of… whatever, but they’ve also given themselves something else." She drank more tea. "But it’s not all bad."

  "You’re really into your health, aren’t you?"

  "Why do you say that?"

  "No caffeine-"

  "I’m clearly breaking that now."

  "With green tea? Case in point. The superfoods; the vegetarianism. Let me guess, you like yoga too?"

  "Yeah…?" She wasn’t going to mention that she also loved Pilates.

  "And have you cured yourself of whatever ails you?"

  "Nothing was wrong with me. But, yes, I’m just fine now too."

  "So why do you do it?"

  "Do what, exactly?"

  "You know- the whole healthy-girl thing. Are you trying to stay thin?"

  "Excuse me?"

  "There’s a big problem with eating disorders on college campuses," Drew said solemnly.

  The food came. Drew started eating, but Emily didn’t move. "What’s wrong?" Drew said after a moment.

  Emily pushed her plate away. "I’ve lost my appetite. It’s either because I’m trying to control my weight, make myself the center of attention or you’re a big jerk."

  Drew kept chewing as if she’d just said she liked the color of the walls. "Why do you say that?"

  "Are you kidding me? You’re telling me that I have some kind of psychological problem because I’m a vegetarian and I care about my health? Or that I’m a cliché?"

  "I’ve obviously struck a nerve."

  "Yes you have. Most people don’t like insulting, manipulative jerks, at least not on the first date."

  "Jerk? Do you have anything more original?"

  "No, but that’s your fault, because you’re the cliché here. You’re the one who must have been stuffed in his locker all through middle school and high school, and you probably never learned how to say hello without having to pretend you were better than everyone else. I hate to break this to you, but you’re not better than anyone. In fact, I bet you’re not even that good, and I don’t care what colleges you got into but couldn’t afford." Emily stood up and put on her coat.

  Drew put his fork down. "Where are you going?"

  "Home to my rice cakes, vegetable broth and carrot salad before I throw it all up. Tonight it’s not going to be a problem because I will just make myself sick thinking how stupid I was to go anywhere with you."

  Drew turned pink. "Can we start over? I-"

  "Yeah… no!"

  Before he could get up, she walked to the front door and into the cold air.

  She walked to Arlington station. She was mad and annoyed, but she felt alive. She’d been itching for a good fight, and she was almost grateful to Drew for giving her one. Not, however, grateful enough to answer his call.

  She stormed past her mother and stepfather and slammed her door. She fell asleep with a smile on her face. This time she didn’t see stars, but those things were overrated anyway.

  CHAPTER 20

  Emily’s final was at ten the next morning. She was out of the house by seven. Once she got to school, she called Zainab, asking if she could meet her for tea again. "Sure. How’s it going with Drew?"

  "Ugh! Why do we deviate from our first impressions? I foolishly went to dinner with him last night, and it ended early."

  "Why?"

  "Because I’m a vegetarian who likes yoga. And I’m thin."

  "Okay, random! What time is your final over?"

  "Done by twelve. What about you?"

  "I think I’m out by two-thirty. So how does three sound?"

  "Same Bat time, same Bat channel?"

  "You need to watch less old television. I’ll see you at our usual hangout. Good luck!"

  "You too!" Emily hung up then went to the library for forty-five minutes before she walked to her final.

  It was a little bit more involved, but she was out by eleven-thirty. She thanked the professor, left the building and threw up her arms. "I’m done!" she shouted. Several people gave her a thumbs up or smiled, and some sneered. Most walked by unfazed.

  She had another three hours until she needed to meet with Zainab. She laughed to herself for no good reason and started walking down Huntington Ave. She was going to window shop at Copley and the Pru. She was going to sit in bookstores and read idiot self-help and exercise books. She was going to do whatever she wanted for the next three hours because she could.

  "Emily!"

  She froze, and then turned around. "Drew?"

  He ran up to her. "I have been calling and calling you!"

  "Uh huh? I guess I didn’
t get those because I put you on my block list."

  "Is that what you do to everyone you have a misunderstanding with?"

  "No, just people I don’t like." She walked away, and rolled her eyes as he came up next to her again.

  "And then you storm off?"

  "I try."

  "That’s not very mature, is it?"

  She stopped and crossed her arms. "Guy, in less than twenty-four hours you have not only implied that I’m kind of crazy, but now I’m immature. First of all, your technique is way, way off. Second off all, since it’s not working, why don’t you take a hint and leave, because you’re starting to be weird and stalky, and that’s not a good look."

  "Maybe I can work on my technique." He laughed at himself, but now it seemed appropriate. "I’m sorry I said anything about food of any sort. I was being a total jerk- I was being a total asshole- and I don’t think that about you. I swear I’ll never bring up food again." He looked at her but she didn’t say anything. "And I’m sorry I insulted you or made you think I thought you were crazy or a cliché because I don’t." Deep breath. "I really like you, but I’m really lousy at these things, and by ‘things’ I mean interpersonal relations of any kind. You were not entirely wrong about the locker thing. I have no idea why anyone as pretty or smart or cool as you would want to have anything to do with me, and when you agreed to have dinner with me last night I was like, ‘whoa, maybe she isn’t just being nice to me,’ and I guess I freaked out a little bit and let my old charming self come out. By the way, this would be a great time to tell me that you weren’t just being nice, because otherwise I’m just being a bigger idiot apologizing like this."

  "Not yet. I don’t think you’re done."

  He sighed. "I had a girlfriend up until last year, as shocking as that may sound to you. It was serious, or sort of. We pretty much lived together but I couldn’t stand her. I was with her for about two years- pretty much from the moment I came here- and I just felt myself... pulled in. I couldn’t say no without being a jerk. And then finally I was a jerk, a complete, total asshole, and I ended it, which was awful, because as I said, we were pretty much living together. So I thought I’d keep my head down low until I got out of here, but then I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you. And when I was with you the first few times, I thought maybe you were humoring me, just like I was humoring her, and I didn’t know if I should be grateful or insulted, and then you seemed like you weren’t. And I was thinking, ‘okay, great- maybe I can get somewhere here,’ and then I was thinking, ‘wait, do I want to get involved again?’ and that’s basically the conflicted fool you met last night. And are you going to say something now?"