by Daniels, Viv
There was a pregnant pause. “Melanie?”
“Yeah.” So at least he remembered her name. “And I have to say, Dylan, I was super surprised when I saw her. She doesn’t strike me as your type.” I slipped my coat from my shoulders and went to hang it up on the rack by the door. When I turned back, it was to see Dylan staring at me, open-mouthed.
“What?” I asked nervously, smoothing my hands down over my shimmery top.
“I...um...that outfit’s really nice.”
“Thanks.”
He turned away. “Make sure to put on your lab coat so you don’t get anything on it.”
I rolled my eyes at him, then went to get one of the white jackets lining the wall. We started in on the evening’s work, but a few minutes into it, as I was studying some cells in the microscope, Dylan spoke again.
“You’re talking about the hair and the piercings and stuff, right? On Melanie?”
“Mmm?” I adjusted the magnification.
“She didn’t look like that when I knew her,” he went on quietly. “She was a little more conservative freshman year. Still figuring her style and stuff out, I guess. No piercings, no tattoos. Her hair was long…and…brown. Like yours.”
I looked up at him. “Oh.”
He gave me a gentle smile. “A lot like yours.”
“Oh.”
Dylan fell silent, and I wondered how many of the people he had dated resembled me. And then I thought of Hannah, and her eyes, and the genetics we shared, and the air in the room felt hot and impossible to breathe.
“Did you like her?” he asked now. “Melanie?”
“Yeah,” I said, relieved to be back on safer ground. “She’s nice. And Elaine spent the whole lunch apologizing, so maybe I’m going to give her another chance, too.”
Dylan made a sound like a snort. “Then you’re a better person than she is. She won’t let go of something that happened freshman year, and I didn’t even do anything to her deliberately.”
“Well,” I said, “they invited me to lunch, and to this party tonight, and it’s not like I’ve made very many friends since coming here, so I’m willing to give it a chance.”
“I’m sorry about that.” When I looked at him this time, guilt had twisted his features into a frown. “I should be introducing you to more people. I did want you to come to the football game with me that time.”
“And when I didn’t, you brought your tailgate to my place of employment,” I said wryly. “I remember. But my loner status isn’t your fault, believe me. I’ve never had a lot of friends.”
“I don’t remember that about you from Cornell. You and Cristina were always really tight.”
I smiled. “I talked to her tonight, actually. She says hi.”
His eyes widened. “Did you tell her about…things?”
I put my hand on my hip and my tone became mock-scolding. “I thought you were all about telling people the truth.”
“I am.” He grinned. “I just want to know if anything incriminating is about to pop up on my Facebook page.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “Cristina is the soul of discretion.” That was also the truth. I didn’t have to worry about her posting something squealy on his wall while he was still “in a relationship.”
Especially since right now we were the very definition of “it’s complicated.”
“So…,” he said after we worked for a few minutes more. “Party?”
“Yeah. My first official Canton party.” Should I invite him? Would that be weird, what with Melanie and Elaine and all the backstory with them? Not to mention how he and I should probably spend as little social time with each other as possible.
“Where’s it at?”
“Beta house?”
He laughed.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he said, a huge grin splitting his face. “That’s just the frat your friend Todd is in.”
Oh crap. Well, it was a party. The chances I’d run into Todd were slim, right? “What are you doing tonight?”
“Homework,” he replied. “I’ve fallen a bit behind the last few days.”
I nodded and looked down at my notes. “How was the appointment this morning?”
He shrugged. “Fine, I guess. The actual biopsy was fine. We’re just waiting for results now. Hannah and her mom have gone up to Manhattan for the weekend. She wants to take her mind off it or something, I guess. Shows, shopping, whatever they do.”
I knew what they did. And I knew that when they did it, my dad usually spirited my mom away for a weekend somewhere, too.
“So you’re alone,” I blurted without thinking. I raised my eyes. He was looking at me, too, and there might as well have been a big red warning sign flashing across his forehead. “I mean—it’s nice Hannah is out of town.”
“I know what you mean.”
“No—I really am glad that she’s getting her mind off things. Not just because—” My cheeks heated. Not just because I’d prefer she get her comfort from someone other than her boyfriend. I’d never been to Manhattan or seen a Broadway show, though once when I was young, Mom took Dad to see The Lion King on Broadway and they brought me back a beautiful mask from the theater gift shop. If you were trying to get your mind off things, that had to be a good way to do it, right?
“You know,” he said now, “it’s funny we’re talking about your social life. Hannah asked me about it when she came by the apartment the other day.”
The day I’d hidden in his bathroom.
“She mentioned seeing you at the coffee shop and said we should hang out sometime. She wanted to know if you had a boyfriend, if there was anyone she could set you up with.”
I raised my eyebrows at Dylan. Didn’t he know what that meant in girlspeak? She was fishing for information. I remember what her friend at the coffee shop had said. Oh, honey, watch out. Hannah was trying to figure out if Dylan was safe around me.
And he so wasn’t. Hannah Swift didn’t know the first thing about me, literally. And though he claimed to love me, Dylan didn’t either. How could he love me? I thought suddenly. How could he love me when he didn’t even know me?
FIFTEEN
At nine thirty, I left the lab. Dylan stayed behind, telling me he’d clean up and transcribe the rest of the notes. I have to admit, I was relieved—there’d be no awkward goodbyes or long, silent elevator rides down to the exit. Elevators were particularly dangerous for us.
I headed over to Beta house, texting Elaine on the way to see if we could meet outside. Though I’d crashed a few Canton parties with Sylvia back in high school, I’d always been the awkward, nerdy, probably obviously-far-too-young-to-be-there girl in the corner. This time, I belonged, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t nervous.
Melanie and Elaine were waiting when I arrived on the block where the Beta house party was, and they waved me over. Despite the chilly weather, the party had spilled out onto the lawn, where students were drinking and dancing under strings of lights. There was a beer pong game going on in one corner of the yard, and the porch was covered with other kids, sitting and standing, all holding plastic cups.
“Hey there,” said Melanie. She was wearing a translucent red top and a short skirt over patterned tights. Elaine, whom I’d only ever seen with a messy bun, had let her hair down, where it shone like black silk in the lights from the party. She was in a soft white sweater and had lined her almond-shaped eyes with thick kohl.
“Ready to get your party on?” my old Bio-E nemesis asked.
I raised my hands and shimmied them in front of me like I was dancing. “Lead the way.”
The Beta house was one of the nicer fraternities on campus and had the reputation of being the realm of the legacy boys. The furnishings showed it—leather couches and wood-paneled walls where pictures of Beta boys from years past in suits and tuxes smiled All-American smiles, and trophies from members’ various sporting and academic accomplishments filled the bookshelves. The decor was at distinct odds with the house m
usic, which filled the space with a persistent, pulsing beat so loud I was surprised the pictures didn’t rattle right out of their frames.
“First stop: keg,” Melanie announced, and we got in line near the kitchen. “Wonder if Jon’s here tonight.”
“Oh my God,” Elaine said, rolling her eyes and pulling out her phone, “I can’t believe you’re still into him. You know he only trots you around to make his parents nervous.”
Melanie tugged on her eyebrow piercing. “Yeah, but I don’t care. I like making parents nervous. I give mine heart attacks.”
Elaine laughed and nudged her friend. “Mine, too.”
“Me, E? If they knew the truth about you, they’d fall over dead.” Melanie turned to me. “What about you? Have your eye on anyone in particular?”
“Not really,” I said. “Frat boys aren’t usually my type.”
“Don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it,” said Melanie.
Elaine made a face. “Next time, I pick the activity, guys, and I promise you frat boys will not be a part of it.”
“Let me translate that for you,” Melanie shouted over the music. “She means we’ll be watching ladies’ field hockey.”
“It’s the skirts,” Elaine said, looking wistful.
“I have to agree,” said the guy standing behind me. “The skirts are nice. Sorry, couldn’t help but overhear. I’m Chris.” He stuck his hand out.
“Tess,” I replied and shook it. Chris was half a head taller than me, with close-cropped sandy brown hair and broad shoulders. “Give us a break. The music’s so loud, you had to do some serious eavesdropping to follow that conversation.”
“Are you kidding me?” Chris asked. “Gorgeous lesbians? How could I live up to the stereotype of a frat boy if I didn’t listen in?”
“Only one lebsian, thank you very much,” said Melanie with a coy smile. “Jury’s still out on me.”
“Intriguing,” said Chris. “And you, Tess?”
“Boringly straight.”
”Me too,” he said. “So dull, right?”
I rewarded Chris with a chuckle, and he grinned at me.
By this time, we’d reached the front of the line, and Melanie took charge of passing out the SOLO cups.
“So what are you doing at this party if you don’t like frat guys?” he asked as Melanie held out her cup to the brother manning the keg.
“I’m here for the beer pong,” Elaine said. “I’ll kick your ass at it.”
“She’s telling the truth,” Melanie added. “She had to get good because she can’t hold her liquor at all.”
“You don’t drink, you don’t like guys—I’m not sure we’ve done the right advertising for this party,” Chris said to Elaine.
“But I did bring hot friends,” Elaine said to reassure him. “And they’re both single, too.”
“Fair enough,” Chris replied. “You’ve earned your keep.”
I stuck my cup out next but as soon as the brother turned on the tap, foam spluttered onto my hand.
“Sorry,” he said. “Kicked.” A moan went up from the line behind me.
Chris nudged me. “Let’s not wait. Come on, I have a secret supply.”
I followed him down the hall to a door marked Brothers Only. He knocked in some weird pattern on the door, which opened a crack. He held up two fingers and was rewarded with two cans of beer. “Cheers,” he said, handing me one.
I popped the top. “Membership has its privileges.”
We made our way back to where we’d left Melanie and Elaine, but by the time we’d arrived, they’d vanished.
“I’m guessing the beer pong table?” I suggested.
“Probably.” He didn’t seem in any hurry though. “So, what year are you?”
“Junior,” I said automatically. “Wait, no. Sophomore.”
“Um…?” He gave me a side-eye.
I was instantly transported back to high school, when we were the townie teens crashing frat parties. “I just transferred in, and I lost some credits, so technically I guess I’ve still got four semesters to go after this.”
“I see.” He looked relieved. “Where’d you come from?”
“State. But the Bio-E program here is way better.”
“Bio-E?” He whistled through his teeth. “I had no idea I was in the presence of a genius.”
I rolled my eyes and took a drink of the beer. “What are you studying?”
“Art history,” he said with a shrug. “But the pertinent point, if you ask my parents, is that I’m pre-law. Going to Columbia next year.”
“Nice.”
“Thanks. Just heard last week.”
“Cheers.” I clinked my beer can against his and we both drank, but when I lowered the can this time, I caught sight of Dylan.
He was here. He was staring at me. I almost choked on my beer. Holy heaven, he was something. We were at a frat party and there were plenty of hot guys around, but Dylan… Dylan. There was something about him. Always had been. Every mitochondrion in every cell in my body seemed to get up and can-can whenever he was near.
“Hey, Chris!” Another brother swooped in. “Can I get you to give me a hand for a minute?”
“Sure.” He turned to me. “You going over to beer pong? I’ll catch up with you there.”
I dragged my eyes away from Dylan. “Yep.”
“Okay. I’ll meet you there. Don’t leave until you see me.” He left with his friend, and Dylan and I...floated together. I don’t even remember walking. We were just suddenly standing across from each other, so close I could smell him, touch him, kiss him if I wanted.
“Hey,” Dylan called over the music. How was it I could spend all evening with him in a lab and when he showed up at a party, in that same sweater and jeans, it was like I hadn’t seen him in months? I soaked up every detail, the errant curl flopping down over his temple, the blue eyes, bright as beacons, the dark crew-neck sweater soft enough to dive into…
“What are you doing here?” I asked, trying to ignore the heartbeat-skipping going on in my chest. “I thought you had to study.”
“Too distracted.”
“By Hannah?”
“By you,” he admitted. “By the fact that you went to a frat party. By what you wore tonight.”
Beer or no beer, my mouth went dry. We were in public. I lowered my voice until it was barely audible over the music. “You know, Dylan, you don’t always have to tell the truth.”
“I’ve spent almost every day since you got here pretending I don’t want you back,” he replied in that same soft tone. The heavy beat of the music rushed over and through me, as warm as the words falling from his lips. “I’ve spent years telling myself that. I’m done lying, to you, to myself, to everyone.”
“Dylan!” I whispered harshly. “Stop. Anyone could hear you.”
“I don’t care.”
I knew that wasn’t true. He didn’t want to hurt Hannah, and if this got back to her, with what she was going through… “Come here.” I tugged the sleeve of his sweater, then turned and walked off.
I wasn’t sure where we were going. I left my mostly untouched can of beer on a random table. I passed hallways, sitting rooms, a library, a bathroom—to judge by the line of people waiting outside—alcoves with couples entwined around each other, locked doors and open doorways filled with people…
“Here,” I said, opening one narrow door and slipping inside. Dylan trailed in after me and I slammed the door shut, plunging us both into darkness.
Inside the closet, the music was muffled, little more than a background beat. I could hear him breathe, hear the blood rushing in my head. The space was slightly musty with the scent of winter coats. I could feel the edge of a pair of skis near my elbow, the curve of a lacrosse stick behind my hip.
“A closet?” Dylan’s voice came from near my ear. Heat poured off him from inches away. I could smell him—soap and wool and something woodsy and wild. “This is less like a frat party and more like a middle-school sleep
over.”
“Dylan, we have to be careful.” My voice came out like I was pleading with him.
He was silent. “Why is it you seem to care more about protecting Hannah than even I do? Am I that callous?”
No, he just wasn’t practiced in deceit. “I don’t know how you can say that when you spent all morning taking her to her biopsy,” I blurted. “There are boyfriends who don’t want to break up with their girlfriends that wouldn’t bother doing that.”
“I find that difficult to believe.”
Did he really? I thought about my dad not coming to see me that time I was in the hospital. It was too dangerous for his reputation. And though appendectomies were rarely lethal, I was still an eight-year-old girl who could have used her daddy.
Dylan didn’t strike me as the kind of guy who cared about appearances. It was people who mattered. And I loved him for it.
I loved him. It rose in my throat, almost escaped my lips, a safe soft sound in the closet, but he spoke again.
“I wish her friends were as sweet to her as you’re being. I wish you two could be friends.”
The bubble popped. “Not going to happen.”
“I know.” He sighed. Maybe so, but he had no idea why such a thing was so impossible. “I’m sorry I came here tonight.”
I wasn’t. He was right here. I imagined electrons leaping across from him to me, arcing tiny, microscopic connections between our bodies, invisible to the naked eye but stronger and brighter than steel. We could touch. Atomically, we already were. I could pull him to me right now. I balled my hands against my thighs.
“I could have lived without seeing you flirt with that guy.”
What guy? I couldn’t remember ever having talked to someone else. I didn’t think I had ever set foot out of this closet. Dylan was a black hole, and I was falling in.
“I know I don’t have the right to be jealous. I know. I know, but…” There was a soft thump on either side of my head and I jumped. His hands.
He laughed, low, little more than a breath. “You can’t see me, can you?”
I shook my head ever so slightly.
