by Havana Scott
“Excuse me. You didn’t need that foot, did you?” I laugh, making light of our near collision.
“No worries, mate. Just landed a miniseries. Step on my toes all you want.” He shakes my hand and it’s not until he smiles brightly, I place his nose and other handsome features, and process his voice do I realize who I’m staring in the face.
21
ALICE
It’s the last final exam of the summer and my undergrad career. The robotics final turned out way easier than I thought, but isn’t that always the case when you study your ass off? Eckler announces that grades will be up tomorrow morning, so if we have anything to appeal, he’ll be in his office until 10 AM.
After class, I’m walking home contemplating my life. I have two days to turn in my Tesla internship application, and my father is going to be calling twice a day until I do. I’m in my own head crossing campus when Aaron catches up to me. I freeze and point a finger at him. “Stay away from me.”
“I just want to say something.” The stitched up laceration and surrounding bruise on his forehead are both pretty nasty, even peeking out from underneath the gauze.
“You can say it from there.” I point to an empty bench.
He takes a few steps back and lingers near the bench. “I’m sorry about what I said to you, what I did,” he corrects himself. He sounds like a kid who’s been made to apologize by his mother. “It was harassment, and it was wrong. I don’t know what else to say except I’ve been angry and maybe a little envious.”
“Envious about what?”
“You, Tesla, your grades, Eckler always taking your side… I have sessions to attend now, so maybe I’ll figure it out. Anyway, just wanted to say I’m sorry.”
Whether he’s being genuine or was made to apologize as part of some disciplinary action, I don’t know, but it’s still odd to hear Aaron speak this way. “What kind of sessions?”
He sighs. “Student Sexual Misconduct Training. The council’s making me go.”
“Wow.” I almost tell him I’m sorry he has to do that when I stop myself. There’s nothing to apologize for. He’s the one who shouldn’t have been a jerk to me. “Seems to me you already paid the price.” I point to the wound on his forehead.
He touches it and smirks.
“Well, thanks,” I tell him. “I don’t know what I ever did to you to deserve that kind of treatment, but I appreciate your apology.”
“You didn’t do anything, Alice. I just have a lot of pressure coming from home. My student loans are through the roof, and if I don’t get the good internships, I’m pretty much a failure. Don’t worry. None of this changes the fact that I was a dick.”
“It does matter.” I know what it feels like to have pressure from home. “Maybe they’ll give you the Tesla internship that just came in.” If anyone’s grades are as good as mine, it would be Aaron’s, but I can see he may no longer be eligible.
He shakes his head. “Nah, they passed me up. Gunther got one, though. I know you got the other, and Samar Rohan got the third.”
Gunther got one? That’s so awesome. “Oh. Well, I’m sure others will come. You just need to find them. See you at graduation.” I take off quickly, checking over my shoulder to make sure he stays far behind me. I feel sorry for him, but I’m glad the school took some action.
Once the sunlight filters through the blinds and hits me directly in the eye, it occurs to me that it’s morning. What’s so special about morning? GRADES ARE IN! Scrambling out of bed, I log onto the student portal and check all my final exam grades. A, A, A, and A. All A’s. My overall GPA is still a 4.0, and I can’t help it—I start dancing around the room like a flea-ridden chicken.
I hear a banging on my wall. Jilly shouts, “What’d you get?”
“All A’s on my finals!” I shout back. “And A’s overall!”
“Woo! I got all A’s, except for one B!” she cries back.
“Why are we celebrating through the walls?” I shout, laughing.
“I don’t know!” I hear the sound of her bedroom door opening then she plows through mine and attacks me with a hug and some more crazy chicken bouncing. “We did it! We finished!”
For a while, we sit on the bed talking about school, the internship requests that have come in, and what everyone’s going to do for the remainder of the summer. Graduation is in five days, the day before my birthday, which means I have just enough time to pack up everything before my family arrives and I go home. Though celebrating with Jilly is fun, I hate that I still want to celebrate with Roman, too. I wish he could be here to be proud of me and see me graduate. I want to jump up and down in his living room, make dinner with him, watch some celebratory Doctor Who, or just kiss for a long, long time.
In the afternoon, I Uber to Roman’s house and ask the driver to wait.
According to Roman’s office voicemail greeting, he’s out of town, but I have to see it for myself. Sure enough, his Mustang is gone, and his shades are drawn. Either he drove somewhere or parked at the airport. There’s mail sitting in his mailbox. Pulling out the thick stack, I walk to the front door and set the bundle down on his bench. Then, I sit and stare at his front door.
I miss this house. I miss spending time in it. I miss hanging with my favorite person, and I miss Roman, who was, in fact, my favorite person for most of the summer, in case there’s any confusion. Except for the way he ditched me. That part wasn’t so awesome. But the rest was quite the learning experience. I learned to open up, take risks, and give love a chance. Did I end up hurt? Sure, but I have memories, and pain goes away with time.
He was right when he once said, “Maybe another time and place.” Maybe we were only meant to meet this summer, fall in love, then come back together when the time is right. It hurts like hell, and it might never happen, but I can hold out hope. Too bad the TARDIS isn’t real so I can slip away to the future and find out if we ever get back together.
Staring at the house one last time, I allow myself to feel the melancholy ache in my heart. I’m glad I dropped by to find closure, and something about that makes me feel better, though it would’ve been better to speak to him in person. I get back into the Uber car and let tears slip out quietly in the backseat.
I amble into the apartment, down the hall to my room, and plop onto the bed. I’ve heard of this lethargic feeling called post-project depression. Supposedly, it’s when you work so hard for something over a long period of time that when it’s finally over and there’s nothing to do…you fall into a somber state.
To make it worse, my dad calls again, and again, I let it go to voicemail. I don’t know what to tell him about the Tesla internship application. All I have to do is take five minutes to fill it out, but I haven’t done it. I’m not sure how I feel about going.
Jilly knocks on the door and walks in half-covering her eyes with a pile of mail. “Oh, you’re here.”
“Did you think I was naked or something?”
“I didn’t want to find out. Here, for you.” She hands me a single envelope from her stash then says, “Meet me and Gunther for drinks later?”
“You and Gunther have been going out a lot, haven’t you?” I slide my finger along the sealed edge of the piece of mail.
“Now’s when you notice, Alice? Good grief, you’ve really been in your own world. You don’t mind, do you? That we’re sort of seeing each other?”
“Me?” I’m staggered. “Why the hell would I mind? He wasn’t my boyfriend or anything. I only went out with him once, and don’t take this the wrong way but it was a mistake. I was looking for…something. I don’t know what. A connection, most likely. But he was the wrong one. For me, I mean.”
Roman wasn’t. Roman was the right connection I needed, and now he’s gone.
“I got you. Just asking to make sure. We’ll see you later?” She seems so excited now that I know about them, I have to smile. It’s nice that they like each other and still want me to come out with them tonight. I should take notes. If I ever hav
e a boyfriend again, we should get out of each other’s hair every so often and not forget about our friends.
A voicemail message alerts me. My dad. I pick it up and listen. “Alice, honey, it’s Dad. Did you get the internship application? We sent them last week, and the school said they were all delivered. We’ve gotten two back but haven’t received yours yet. Just checking in. Call me.”
I stare at the internship packet sitting on my night stand unopened.
I stare at the opened envelope in my hand. I slide out the tri-folded brochure inside. It’s from Warner Brothers Studios in Burbank, Los Angeles, California. “We Need Your Right Brain” it says right across the top. Why am I getting this? Flipping it over, I see it—a yellow sticky note with handwriting on it.
Vaguely familiar.
The return address is in LA, but I don’t know anyone who lives there.
This is perfect for you. They’re accepting applications now. Thought you’d want to know, the note reads.
And then, my brain comes alive. It’s Roman’s handwriting. Roman has sent me something in the mail. I can’t believe I spent so much time with him and never noticed what his handwriting looked like. I make a mental note that if we ever see each other again, I will endeavor to get to know him better before dropping to my knees to give him a blowjob.
Geez.
If there’s ever been a more pressing time to make an important decision, this is it. It’s painfully obvious from the way I’m sitting square on my bed between two critical pieces of mail. Do I fill out the Tesla application…or the Warner Brothers Studios one? Creative Engineers, it says on the back. Working on sets, creating animatronics, or just working with sound and lights.
God, he’s so right—that does sound like me. That is SO ME.
I prop open my laptop, find the two websites—Tesla and Warner Brothers—and begin filling out both online applications, more excited than I’ve felt in a long time to have choices. As Eckler once said, It’s a good problem to have.
Picking up my cap and gown with Gunther and Jilly is a moment that will go down in my memories for a long time. It’s like I’m watching it all unfold on grainy film after already growing old. I notice Jilly’s young, smooth face, Gunther’s arm around her, kissing her forehead, and I notice my own hands holding the black mortarboard. We’re young and invincible and despite being in school for sixteen years of my life, we’re energized.
Life is only now beginning.
It’s not until we’re sitting at the Student Union having roast beef sandwiches that I notice I’ve had an email sitting in my inbox for the better part of sixty minutes now from WARNER FUCKING BROTHERS STUDIOS!
“What is it?” Jilly says, noticing an alarmed shift in my attention.
Opening up the message, I skim through it, spotting words like “congratulations” and “best among your peers” and “…would be pleased if you attended a personal interview next Friday.”
“Oh, my God.”
“Alice?”
“Oh, my God. I’m in. It looks like I’m in.”
“At Tesla?” Gunther sneaks a peek over my shoulder and chuckles. “Of course you got in. Your dad runs the entire division there. I turned in my application, so I’m sure it’s just a waiting game now.”
“No, not Tesla.” I show them the email and watch their faces turn from curious, to confused, to holy shit, she’s considering defecting. I nod slowly. “I’m going to LA for that interview. I don’t care if my dad gets pissed. I’m going to the interview, even if he kills me.”
I’ll have to call my mom and ask her to book my flight without him finding out too many details. I’ll have to call my dad, too, and explain what’s going on in my head and heart. He won’t like it, but I have to face my fears and stand up to my dad. If he loves me, he’ll fully support me.
But first I have to pass the interview.
Jilly gives me a long, proud look, like her baby girl is all grown up. “You bad girl, you.”
I smile. She has no idea. This is only the beginning. For the first time in a long time, I see myself having fun with a new creative career. The kind of fun I want to have. If this summer has taught me anything, it’s to break free from the boring, the usual, and the expected. Go out and do something different. Go out and live.
Thanks, Roman.
“You know it,” I say, imagining it was Roman.
22
ROMAN
Standing outside the Brookman Civic Center, I send a text to confirm that my graduation surprise will arrive on time. I don’t hear back, which is making me nervous. I watch the last-minute stragglers hurrying in, parents and other family members dressed nicely to commemorate this special day for Blaketon University students.
I wait a few more minutes outside before finally flashing my faculty lanyard and heading inside the arena. “Hello, Dr. Lee.”
“Hi, Dr. Lee.” Greetings and smiles rush past me.
I greet everyone as professionally as I can and begin looking for an empty seat.
Alice has no idea that I’ve been in Tucson the last few days or that I’ve been packing to leave this place. My sister was thrilled with me moving in with her temporarily until I find a new job and place to live in LA, and I couldn’t be more scared, nervous, and excited at the same time. It’ll be like old times, she said. Maybe we’ll even play King of the Bed again, although that would be weird, so never mind.
I’m sure Alice won’t want to see me, but I have to watch her graduate and offer her my congratulations. She’s worked so hard for this. I watched her study, watched her have text battles with her group project members, and watched her struggle to juggle it all—a challenging course load and a difficult boyfriend. I’m glad I pulled away when I did, so she could finish her studies in peace, but I’m also here for another reason—I have things to say.
For once, I want to say what’s on my mind. I don’t want to lock up my emotions when doing so means I might lose her. It may already be too late. If she accepts what I have to say, maybe we can try again. Start over. If she doesn’t, we move on anyway.
I’ve done it before, and I can do it again.
But it’ll suck without Alice.
The place is packed with paid ticketholders, so I find a railing near the stage and stand there watching the entire two-hour ceremony, as they call name after name. When the School of Robotics and Engineering is called, I start feeling excited to see her. I have to wait a long-ass time, because her last name starts with a V. Even then, they don’t call her name right away.
Which means she’s summa cum laude. At our school, they leave top honors for last.
When two dozen or so students line up at the stage’s steps wearing special cords, stoles, and tassels, I scan for her. There she is. She’s the only radiating blonde by the stage, and she’s had her hair done brighter, long waves set in, and she’s wearing makeup. Damn. She’s going to make a great California Girl.
“Gerard Thompson…summa cum laude.” The dean calls up the guy in front of her, and I position my phone camera to take a shot. Cheers for Gerard, though something tells me he wasn’t too sociable a guy, since the applause dies down quickly. Then finally, they announce, “Alice Verano…summa cum laude.”
And there she goes, stepping onto the stage and walking across to receive her diploma, as cheers erupt from her School of Robotics and Engineering—deep-voice cheers and a few high-pitched ones. Alice makes a peace sign with her fingers, and somewhere across the arena, a small family bursts into cries of “My baby! Woo! Yeah!” Accepting her diploma and posing for her shot with the dean, she shakes his hand, exchanges a few words with Dean Alexander, and walks off the stage.
I can’t explain what I’m feeling.
I have no right to feel proud, because I didn’t make her intelligent. She was born smart as a whip and ready.
I have no right to feel love, because I hurt her. For all I know, she’s going to glare me down and act like she never knew me. I have no right to feel excited or
hopeful, because she earned that internship all by herself, not because of me. Besides, she’ll probably be at Tesla, though a man can hope. I could’ve sent her a thousand brochures by mail, but it would’ve been her résumé, her grades, and her interview that got her the position.
Still, I feel it all. Because I adore her.
And that’s a first.
Once the commencement exercises are finished, I head outside to warm up under the late summer sun. The special graduation gift I’m having delivered for Alice still hasn’t arrived. In a few minutes, it won’t matter, because she’ll be gone. I spot her golden wavy tresses over her shoulders, as she heads down the walk flanked by her parents, I assume, and a brother.
I was right—she looks more beautiful than ever. This summer, I got to see her at her most relaxed and natural, which is how I love her and will always remember her, but I’d be lying if I said she doesn’t look hot as hell with her hair and makeup done, her graduation robe open, displaying a light blue summer dress, curvy legs, and heels to make my body ache for her.
When she finally spots me standing off to one side, hands in my pockets, she slows down and her laughter dies down. “Roman?” Her family slows down as well, and it’s just another piece of the puzzle. Here she is with her loved ones, taking on a new persona for me. She’s not just student or “off the record” client or friend with benefits or near-girlfriend. She’s a daughter, granddaughter, and sister, and now I really feel like I have no right to be here.
“Congratulations, Alice,” I say, unsure of how to act in case she never told her parents about me. I doubt that she did. Should I reach for her hand? Give her a hug? “I’m so incredibly proud of you.” I decide on a quick kiss to her cheek, as long as she’ll let me, which affords me a quick look into her baby blue eyes again. What a knockout.
And what a dick I was for leaving her in the dark.
“What are you doing here?” Her forehead furrows. “I thought you’d left town. That’s what your voicemail said, what I heard all over school. It would’ve been nice to hear it from you.” The dig is deep and well-deserved. I should’ve told her what was happening.
