“Then say it,” I implored. “It won’t matter to him.”
She flinched and shook her head.
She blinked away a tear and looked at me, all fire and grit. “You know I can’t afford to take that chance. You know what happened when I told my father. Julian is my only family. Do you think I would risk him in that way—”
“Look at what this is doing to him. To us, to you! Gracie said when you guys graduate and move to New York you planned to live together and not worry about what other people thought. How are you going to do that, Elodie, when you can’t even be honest with Julian?”
She twisted her hands. “Gracie is naive. Her folks are wonderful, so Gracie thinks if we just live our lives and fight hard enough then everyone will eventually just . . . come around. And had I been raised by her folks, then maybe I’d feel that way too. But I told my father and he said it was fine and then he took his own life. So forgive me for thinking that people don’t just come around because in my experience people abso-fucking-lutley do not just come around to the idea of two women being in love with one another.”
I knew her parents’ death was the source of all her fears with Julian. That she’d told her father, and he’d promised it didn’t matter that he loved her anyway, then he’d told her mother who had not responded that way.
And then days later her father had driven his car off a cliff with her mother in it. Neither of them survived the wreck.
Just this past summer I’d found out that her father’s company had been deeply insolvent, and that was the most likely reason he’d killed himself. I’d shared this news with El, but she’d spent the last five years telling herself she was responsible for her parents’ death. Convincing her otherwise was nearly impossible.
“We need to tell him, Elodie. This? What we’re doing? It can’t work anymore. He’s already figured most of it out.”
“We just have to try harder. Maybe if I stay here a few nights . . .”
“Stay here and what? Pretend to have sex with my pretend girlfriend? So Gracie has to feel yet again like she’s second place? So she has to call me and get assurances that I really do see you as nothing but a sister. This is destructive—how can you not see that? Elodie, it is not your fault your parents died.”
She was quiet when she responded. “You know, Trevor, we’ve been doing this for the last few years and you’ve never had a problem with it until now. I can’t help but think that this is more about you wanting to be free to be with Daisy than it is about it being good for Julian or me and Gracie.”
I sighed. “You’re right, I’d love to be free to be with Daisy. Daisy made me feel for the first time like maybe I could have the same thing you have with Gracie. Someone that cares for me, that sees me, that understands me, that . . .” I couldn’t say love because that would sting a little too much. “Someone that is just for me. I want to belong to her. I want her to belong to me. I know that sounds selfish, maybe even barbaric, but that’s how I feel when I look at her.”
“I had no idea you felt so strongly about her.”
“Neither did I until it was too late. But that doesn’t matter. What should matter to you is that knowing all that now, I’ll continue to hold up my end of this charade knowing full-well it’s probably obliterating my chances with Daisy.”
Not that I deserved Daisy to begin with.
“And that should tell you that I am willing to do what is right, even if it is to my personal detriment.”
She looked back at me, eyebrows bunched in confusion. Before she could argue I finished, “But I don’t think what we’re doing is right, not anymore. And that has nothing to do with Daisy. I haven’t once mentioned telling her. At this point it wouldn’t matter if she knew or not. This is wrong because you’re letting your fear dictate everything. You’ve already decided the worst possible outcome is the only outcome and that’s just not true. You’re afraid Julian won’t be there for you, that if you tell him, you’ll lose him. But not telling him is pushing him away. I understand that you’re scared. Maybe I don’t understand the exact situation you’re in, but God knows I understand rejection.”
After all, the object of my affection hasn’t spoken to me in five weeks, but who’s counting?
“Julian deserves a chance, Elodie. Trust him. Give him the chance to show you who he is and what he’s made of. Give him the chance to be there—”
I stopped with a jolt as I heard a noise in the living room. A few seconds later the bedroom door opened.
I made eye contact with Jules and saw that his glasses were off and his eyes were red.
He walked over to Elodie and crouched until he was face-to-face with her. He took her hand and waited for her eyes to find his. Then he said simply, “Elodie Mayhew, I love you and I don’t care who you love.”
Her eyes bounced back and forth between his as he squeezed her hand.
Jules rocked back on his haunches with a smile. Eyebrows raised, he prompted, “Now, is there something you want to tell me?”
Elodie’s sobs broke through the room.
The cousins clung to one another. Julian shushed Elodie’s cries and apologies, and rocked her like a child.
And I rose from chair, and left the two to talk.
A few hours later Jules found me in my room studying even though my hand twitched every few minutes, tempted to ditch the books and grab my pencils and charcoals.
He took a seat on my bed and got right to the point. “I have half a mind to beat the shit outta you for keeping this from me,” he half-joked.
I smirked. Jules and I were evenly matched; he could try to kick my ass.
I opened my mouth and he held up his hands.
“I know why you did it. Thank you, by the way, for going to bat for me. Also, thank you for looking out for my cousin when she wouldn’t let me.” He shook his head in disbelief.
“She’s like family to me too,” I responded simply.
“So when are you going to tell Daisy?”
I looked at him, eyebrows raised. “I’m not.”
Jules confusion was palpable. “Why? Everything you said about that girl in there . . .”
I stared at him. “Julian, did you not hear how hard it was for me to get your cousin to tell you?”
I still wasn’t sure if Elodie would’ve told him in the end if Julian hadn’t overheard us.
“What on earth makes you think she’ll be comfortable with me telling a total stranger her secret?” I used the words Elodie had used when I’d proposed the idea to her a few weeks ago for effect.
Julian shrugged and opened his mouth but I cut him off. “This is still her secret, Jules. Please tell me you get that. Just because you know doesn’t mean you have the right to tell anyone. I wanted to tell you every single day since I found out, but it wasn’t my information to give away.”
“I get that.” His tone was understanding but his eyes gleamed in a way that made me fearful. “But I also know Elodie’s happiness and comfort is not more important than yours. You and Daisy are clearly crazy about each other.”
I brought my hand down in a swiping motion. “No. In case you forgot, that ship has sailed. Daisy hates my guts.”
Jules squinted, examining the situation. “You’re right, of course. Daisy has a skewed version of you. And I didn’t really like that version of you either. Trevor, if you meant what you said about how you feel about her, then that’s not something you wait on, and it’s not something you whiff on.”
Frustration bleeds into my words. “What are my options Jules?”
“Apologize to her. Tell her that you were wrong. That you and Elodie are over and you want to start over.”
“I tried to apologize. I messed it up. And it ended up with her telling me she hated me. Besides, I’ve agreed to keep up this farce with El through the end of the year so—”
“You don’t have to, actually. I talked to my cousin and she agrees. She’s tired of it, you’re tired of it. And I’ve convinced her to move off campus
where folks are less nosey. I think there’s a place downstairs that’s open. Maybe she’ll want to be somewhere else, but either way, she and Gracie will have more privacy.”
I was glad to have that settled but unsure of how that helped me with Daisy. “Julian, nothing but the truth is going to explain my behavior to Daisy, and even that might not be enough. I publicly humiliated her. I hurt her feelings. Even if I was able to somehow get her to forget all that and give me a second chance . . .
“All of that is beside the point. I don’t want to have a relationship with Daisy if it can’t be an honest one. She doesn’t deserve a relationship based on a lie, and neither do I. I don’t want secrets between us, not even other people’s.”
“I get it. What if there were a way to guarantee Daisy wouldn’t talk?”
I shrugged. “I don’t need assurances where she’s concerned. She wouldn’t tell anyone. But didn’t you just hear me say—”
“But El does need assurances,” mused Julian. “What if there were assurances we could offer to El? Do you think that would help?”
I shrugged noncommittally, not sure where he was going with it, but ready to have this conversation done. “I supposed it might.”
“Good,” he spoke quietly as he left my room.
I’m not sure what Julian thought he could offer Elodie but I knew it wasn’t going to be enough. He would find that out when he spoke to her, and rather than hang my hopes on something that was never going to happen, I pushed it from my mind and got back to work.
Chapter Eighteen
Daisy
My room looked like a cookie factory had exploded in it, and there was nothing to be done for it. There was contraband under my bed, under the other bed, and the closet was full of it.
The first weekend we’d made four hundred and twenty-five dollars selling cookies. Odie had donated fifty and James had come up with the rest of the money on her own, thereby allowing her to buy her books.
That should’ve been the end of our time as cookie pushers.
However, people wouldn’t stop talking about the cookies and asking about the cookies; figuratively speaking, folks couldn’t keep the damned cookies out of their mouths.
And as an added bonus, I was now being propositioned by guys all the time telling me in detail what they’d like to do to my cookie.
Fun, fun, fun times.
I was content, nay overjoyed, nay ecstatic that we’d pulled our dumb plan off and that not one of us had been caught. My friends, however, were addicted to a life of crime.
Odie argued that she was tired of being broke and that this was the perfect way to make a little side cash. She wanted to sell cookies every freaking weekend. I pointed out to her although that had been the original plan it was never going to work.
There was too much risk involved. It’d been a miracle that we’d been able to pull it off the first time. Anyone could’ve come into the home ec building while we’d been in there baking. Someone could’ve spotted Charlie transporting dry goods into garbage bags.
It worked out because of hubris and luck, and thank you, God, amen.
James agreed that we shouldn’t do it every weekend but disagreed that we should never do it again.
“We’re careful,” she argued.
As if careful would stop a wayward janitor from floating through the home economics building at seven p.m. on a Friday night. James thought I was being paranoid and ridiculous as the staff—even the janitorial staff—would most likely be at home enjoying supper at that time.
She was right; I was being paranoid. Because paranoia would save us from stupidity. I couldn’t help thinking that we got away with it the first time, so we should quit while we were ahead.
James was the one that broke my resolve in the end.
“Daisy, I don’t have money for books for the second semester. And I won’t have the money. Eventually we’re going to have to do this again. So let’s just do it one more time, and we will set aside most of it for books and then if there’s anything left after that you and Odie can use it for pocket change.”
“I’m in!” Odie said immediately sounding like a jewel thief.
I groaned. “James, if it wasn’t for Julian …”
I didn’t know what James and Julian were. Attracted, that’s for damn sure, but James acted like we’d witnessed nothing, like nothing had happened.
“If it weren’t for Julian basically giving us one hundred dollars we wouldn’t have made enough in one weekend the first time. There aren’t enough parties and there isn’t enough time to make all these cookies.”
“Not usually, but . . .” James grinned and I knew I was going to hate whatever came out of her mouth next. “Homecoming is this weekend. There’ll be triple, if not quadruple, the number of parties. And there’ll be a lot more people in town to sell to. Class is almost certain to be cancelled on Friday so we should have an extra day to prepare all the goodies.”
I looked at Odie ,who was wearing a smug little smile, and then to James, who looked just a little too sanguine.
“Y’all planned this ahead of time.”
“Come on, Daize, one last cookie caper and then we can quit!”
I closed my eyes and exhaled defeatedly.
“Okay. I’m in.”
I knew with certainty as soon as the words left my mouth I was going to live to regret them.
When I told Charlie how much of each item I thought we’d need, he’d braced his hands on his knees and lowered his head, sucking in air. He replied, “I can maybe get you half of that. And definitely only about a third of the chocolate chips you need.”
He looked at me meaningfully, because the week after the original cookie caper the cafeteria dessert bar had been curiously void of its normal subpar chocolate chip cookies.
I’d switched the recipes on the spot and redid the calculations for the ingredients. Sugar cookies, snickerdoodles, oatmeal raisin.
“Cream of tartar?” Charlie asked befuddled.
“Dry good.” I reassured him.
It had been Odie’s idea to meet him every night that week to start stockpiling the dry goods. We’d have to get the perishables all in one big run but we could store the dry goods in my room since I didn’t have a roommate—thank you, Daddy.
And that was how my room ended up looking like the storeroom of a cookie factory. I tried to hide everything but there was just no space. James had us hitting a whopping eleven parties; five on Friday and six on Saturday night. We were considering dividing and conquering and maybe drafting Lucy to sell at a few. James had somehow convinced Calvin to let her borrow his car for the weekend and we’d use that as our primary means of transport.
I was lost in thought, thinking of everything that still needed to be done as I walked to the library Wednesday evening. There was literally no space to study in my room anymore. Therefore, I didn’t see him until I was halfway down the drive and it was too late to turn tail and run back inside.
Julian.
He was sitting on one of the benches in his navy blue peacoat but stood when I approached.
I hadn’t seen Julian since the night of the first cookie caper over two weeks ago. My first instinct was that he was looking for James, so I blurted out, “I haven’t seen James this evening. I’m not sure where she is.”
It was already dark outside, but not so dark that I couldn’t see a faint red undertone creep across his complexion.
Oh my.
Just the mention of James’s name made him blush. He rolled those pretty eyes behind his glasses. “I am not looking for James. I’m looking for you.”
“You do know you could’ve just come inside and asked for me, right? There’s a person at—”
“I know. And I tried. But you must’ve done something to piss your dorm mother off because she heard your name and told me, ‘I’m not that girl’s damned secretary. If she’s going to need this many notes passed along, she needs to get her own phone.’”
I groaned. Dolly
must’ve been calling incessantly. I thought it was suspicious the notes had suddenly dried up. I hadn’t gotten a Call Dolly note since the night after the cookie caper.
“All right. Well, what can I do for you, Mr. Marshall?” I said, wanting to get whatever Julian needed out of the way.
Whatever this was about it couldn’t be good. Nothing good ever came from conversations with Trevor or Julian.
The wrong sort.
“Mr. Marshall?” he squinted at me, smiling like I was amusing. “You don’t like me, do you?”
No, I do not.
“I don’t know you to like you or not like you. But I do have to get to the library so . . .”
“I have something I need to discuss with you, and I promise you want to hear it. But not here.” His eyes followed two girls passing by and another two approaching from the sidewalk. All of whom were trying way too hard to look like they weren’t listening.
“It’s too public here, and this is a private matter. Will you take a drive with me?”
I’m not sure what look I gave him but he burst into laughter and said, “Daisy, you’re looking at me like I just told you I assassinated Santa Claus.”
I raised my eyebrows meaningfully.
He laughed again.
“We don’t even have to leave the parking lot if you don’t want. I know I am asking you to do a colossally stupid thing, that is to get in the car with a strange man—”
“At night,” I added.
“Yes, but I promise you it’ll be worth your time. And I promise I come in peace and mean you no harm.”
“Yeah, I appreciate the offer, but seeing as how you’ve pointed out plenty of very valid reasons for me to say no, I’m going to have to decline.”
Upsy Daisy: A First Love College Romance Page 25
