Schooled 4.0
Page 13
“Really? The one-legged boy who dies of Cancer is the best you’ve got?” he shakes his head disapprovingly at me. His mind is made up. I’ve got nothing—except for a giant crush on a well-read man.
“Well Hon, I see I can’t change your mind here, but I do have some good news, we have a book club meeting coming up next month, and we’d love to have you there,” I joke, “We read The Help this time. You should come.” I shove against him, trying to make him laugh, flash those dimples.
Laughing, “No thanks, I’m out. Someone should’ve just killed that Miss Hilly, bitch. I would’ve,” his dimples showing. I’m dying, laughing so hard I can barely see through the tears rolling down my face. “I’m surprised you’re just getting around to reading that one.” he ponders, seriously.
Still laughing, I say, “I was only kidding you idiot. I’m not even in a book club. I just tried to think of the girliest book I could come up with to tease you. I didn’t know you freaking read it.” I can’t stop laughing.
“Hey, don’t make fun. It’s a good one, that poor Mae-Mobley.” He stands up, wiping off his pants. “She was such a sweetheart. Well, I have to get going, Miss Garrity. You make me laugh. Thanks.” I watch him walk down the walkway. How can this guy be single? What’s wrong with women today?
“Leo,” I call after him. As he turns around, I notice how beautiful he is standing on the sidewalk, with the sunset behind him, so pure, so innocent, and so perfect. “I just want to say… ummm… have a good week. I’ll be in New York until Wednesday.”
Okay that isn’t what I wanted to say at all.
“Have a good trip; I’ll probably see you some time next weekend then.” He leaves, walking with a little skip in his step to the backyard.
Phew. That was a close one. I’m so glad that I stopped myself from saying that I have always been Team Jacob and Team Peeta. He would’ve thought I was coming on to him for sure. But, I would take Peeta and Jacob any day over Edward and Gale. That’s the truth. I’d take Denny over Kellan, the cheater, too.
The real question is, what if I had to choose between the strong, beautiful, fun, and loving Jacob and the loyal, reliable, equally beautiful and self-sacrificing Peeta? Now that would be a serious problem. How could anyone make that kind of choice? To choose between Jacob and Peeta would make any girl a sobbing, crumbling mess; they are two perfect men, too perfect to choose between.
RUNNING LATE, I had to race to the terminal. I couldn’t seem to get ahead of the clock. It took me forever to find my pills; I always need something to knock me out when I fly. Flying isn’t my thing, will never be my thing. But, I recognize it for what it is, a necessary and efficient way to travel. A few narcotics usually take care of my fear, allowing me to reach my destination without freaking out each person aboard the aircraft with each dip or jerk the plane makes.
Once on the plane, I down a few pills and a Tanqueray and tonic to get comfortable, hoping the pills will kick in pretty quickly. I’m pretty comfortable too. I love Jasper for booking my flight in first class. Well, love his secretary for booking my flight, I’m not even sure Jasper would know how to book a flight. It’s been a long time since he’s been one of the commoners. Jasper has had money for as long as I could remember. As soon as he was old enough to figure out that working meant making money, Jasper’s been a workaholic. My eyes are starting to close—too heavy to hold open on their own. I drift off slowly, thinking about how I hope that Jasper will slow down someday and find a good girl to marry. I’m sure he’ll make a fine husband, but he’ll be a great dad, the best father any kid could ever want.
“MISS GARRITY, WE landed,” a voice sounds far away in my ear, as my body is being lightly shaken. Did the stewardesses know my name? Wait, isn’t that a sexist title now? I think they’re all called flight attendants now. Yeah, that’s right. Did they know my name? My boarding pass says, “Flowers,” so that can’t be right. I can’t open my eyes. They’re too heavy. I probably shouldn’t have taken two pills, the flight from Ohio to New York isn’t really that long. I need to open my eyes. Oh my God, I’m tired. I need the pilot to circle around the country just a few more times, make a quick swing by the equator or something.
Slowly, I open one eye, hating myself for how I feel, and for how I must look to these people. She’s cute. Not a flight attendant. Wait a minute.
Wait.
Wait.
Wait.
I know her. Oh shit. What’s this girl’s name? Uhhh, shit. Sarah, Sarah somebody. I can’t remember. Of course, I’d be passed out and end up knowing someone on the damn plane. Oh wait, not just know someone. Correction, would be awakened by someone, a former student someone. Awww fuck a cat. That’s who she is. A fucking a student. Sat in the corner seat by the filing cabinet—always got me a mint out of my drawer when I needed it. Had ugly shoes that she wore a lot. Way too much. God, I hope she doesn’t have them on now. I glance at her feet. Nope. We’re good.
Sloane.
Sarah Sloane.
I try to swallow and moisten my very dry mouth. I attempt to say “Hey Sarah,” but it comes out more like “Hey rah rah.” She just laughs, grabbing for my bag.
“Your brother said that you usually knocked yourself out to fly, and I should be prepared,” she says as she gathers up my carryon and purse. My brother? What in the world does that mean? She knows Jasper?
“Jasper? You know Jasper?” I mumble, sloppily.
How could one of my old students know Jasper? My head’s a murky pile of clueless goo. I have to shake myself out of this. She hands me an unopened bottle of water.
“This will help, so will walking it off. We have some time to kill before dinner, so you can crash at the hotel.” She seems to know a lot, be very clued in on things, but I have no idea what she’s talking about. I just follow her like the Pied Piper, while I allow myself to wake up.
Definitely should’ve only taken one pill.
After a quick trip to the restroom, I feel a bit better, but still can’t figure out why Sarah Sloane is acting like she’s with me in New York. I have to suck it up, face the humiliation, and just ask her.
“Sarah, what are you doing here—in New York?” It sounds so rude, but I’m baffled.
Surprise and embarrassment flash on her face. “Didn’t Jasper tell you that I was coming?”
“I don’t know how you even know Jasper.” I explain.
“I work for him, his new account rep. Miss Garrity, you gave me a reference.” Now she looks really confused and embarrassed.
“Oh shit, I mean shoot. Sarah, I forgot; oh my God, I totally forgot. Yes… yes…” I groan and nod, humiliated by my own stupidity. “I remember now. You moved back to Ohio and was looking for a job. I told you to apply at Garrity Advertising. I’ve been so wrapped up in Everything Garrity that I completely forgot. I’m sorry,” I apologize, feeling like a total tosser. Sarah laughs and keeps walking toward the baggage claim as I stand there baffled by my own forgetfulness and self-absorption.
And then it all starts coming back to me—as I start humming the words to Celine Dion’s song. “There were moments of gold and there were flashes of light.”
God, I’m more drugged up than I thought. The gin and narcotics combo cocktail weren’t a very good decision.
Sarah was a great student of mine my first year teaching. She went to James Madison University in Virginia. She wrote to me a lot that first year, forwarding me her papers to edit and proofread before turning them in for professor evaluation. I enjoyed hearing the stories of her freshman year. After a bit, I stopped hearing from her, up until last year. She finished her degree in December and wanted to move back to Ohio. She contacted me and asked if I knew of any entry-level job openings.
Jasper said that he could use her, and I forwarded his information on to her. Apparently, he hired her, via a video chat interview. She sent me a fruit and wine basket thanking me for the job, but I hadn’t heard from her since. Jasper never mentioned her. I should’ve remembered when he s
aid the other day that his new account rep from JMU was going with me to New York, but I wasn’t in the best frame of mind when he told me. Again, I’m not in the best frame of mind. I don’t particularly want to spend the next few days babysitting one of my old students. Well, as it started, she’s babysitting me.
In the cab on the way to the hotel in Times Square, I ask, “Did you say we had dinner reservations?” I didn’t know we had plans in New York. I thought I was just going to wander around the city, pretending to be rich. Just free-birding it for the weekend.
Reaching into her bag and pulling out the itinerary, Sarah replies, “Oh yeah, we’ve got a full two days planned.” Glancing at the agenda and skimming the information, Sarah nods excitedly. “We have six hours to kill until dinner; your brother figured you’d need to go shopping for clothes for tonight and tomorrow. We have reservations for dinner at Nobu and then tickets for Wicked at 8:00 p.m.”
I squeal, scaring the cab driver as he swerves carelessly into another lane. “Nobu!? Wicked!? Holy Fuck, seriously?”
I just snapped out of it. Jasper is the greatest brother on the planet. He knows that I’ve been dying to see Wicked. Growing up, I was a crazy Wizard of Oz fan. I’m the only person I know who hasn’t seen Wicked yet. And Nobu? Howard and Beth Stern love Nobu. What if they were there? I cannot wait to tell Leo; he’ll be so jealous.
“Miss Garrity, I am so glad you’re excited. It’s all I could talk about this past week,” she admits, excitedly. “I can’t believe I get to do all this. Thank you for getting me this job. This is exactly what I needed. I’m loving it.” Sarah’s beaming. She looks so young and naïve. This is going to be fun. I’m glad Jasper convinced me to go.
We went to the hotel to unpack and freshen up. I told Sarah I’d meet her in the lobby in an hour for an afternoon of shopping. I needed to grab a quick shower to wake up. I felt a headache coming on, so I wanted to get a hot shower and rejuvenate before my fun day in the city. The shower felt warm and relaxing, calming my recent flight anxiety. I was excited about the itinerary for the next two days. I couldn’t believe that Jasper surprised me like this. We didn’t talk much about Marcus and me or my feelings, but this just proves he knew that I needed a pick-me-up. Jasper’s a good guy. Maybe, I’ll start running with him once a week.
Maybe.
Nah, probably not.
It’s the thought that counts though.
When I met Sarah in the lobby, she said that there was only one thing that she really wanted to do while she was in New York and that was get an infamous cupcake from the Magnolia bakery, the original bakery. She said that was all anyone talked about when they went to New York. I’d never heard of it. I figured that I’d enjoy a cupcake just as much as anyone. We decided to skip lunch and just go straight for the cupcakes. I was floored when I saw the line, three blocks long. She wouldn’t change her mind—said that everyone claimed it was worth it. Standing in line for 30 minutes for a red velvet cupcake was not how I wanted to spend my afternoon in NYC, that is until I bit into the scrumptious dessert. I wasn’t sure how one cupcake, a silly stupid cupcake, could be so satisfying and delicious. I thanked Sarah profusely for forcing me to sample this delightful pastry. Magnolia would definitely see me again and again. Probably tomorrow.
Taking full advantage of shopping in New York, I bought a one-piece jumper-like pants suit for our dinner and show, figuring that I would never have another opportunity to wear something as chic and trendy as a silk, charcoal-colored, one-shouldered, one-piece pants suit again. I switched out the silver chain belt it came with for a red thicker belt to complement a pair of sexy red strappy sandals that I fell in love with. Alright, so I didn’t really need, Jimmy Choos, but I deserved a little splurge, and they were slightly on sale. Since Jasper gave me a grand to blow, plus there were 250 thousand dollars waiting on me at home, I could enjoy this trip a little more than I normally would. The pants suit was perfect. But the dress I got for the gala was stunning; it even looked stunning on me. Char was going to cry and beg to have it.
Normally, I dress rather modestly, and this dress looked modest, until I turned around. It was a deep plum color, long-sleeved, and form-fitting the whole way down my body, stopping right above mid-thigh, shorter than I’m comfortable with. The back, what little there was of it, had a small line of fabric across my neck and shoulder blades, and then the entire back was cut out, dropping to the very top of my ass, preventing me from wearing a bra or underwear. It was sexy, too sexy, perfect for a formal gala in New York City. I planned to wear my hair in a low ponytail to the side, swooping around to the front of my body to accentuate the opening in the back. I even bought a small silver clutch purse, light gray bootie heels, and silver jewelry to accessorize. I spent nearly $3,000.00, but enjoyed every minute and penny of it, promising myself that I wouldn’t have buyer’s remorse as soon as the plane touched back down at the Cleveland Hopkins airport upon my arrival home. I hoped I could keep that promise. I was already remorseful that Briggs would never see me in this dress or be able to take it off of me.
Or Leo.
Sarah bought a simple black cocktail dress from a small boutique. The dress was short, ruched along the side, and strapless. She wasn’t much of a shopper, but was a wonderful shopping sidekick, complimentary and helpful. Sarah enjoyed purchasing the touristy things in New York: knockoff purses in Chinatown, a Yankees hat at a shop in Times Square, and fake Chanel sunglasses from a stand in Greenwich Village. She wanted to go to a lot of places, but was fast at each destination. I only wanted to go to a few places, but took an eternity at each place. We complemented each other well. I was impressed that we pulled it all off in five hours and still had time to kill and get ready.
AS SARAH AND I walk into Nobu, heads turn, which is beyond flattering since it’s a celebrity hot spot and gorgeous people eat here daily. Loving anything peach flavored, we both order the Bellini Martinis. The martinis are strong, but thirst-quenching and delicious.
“Sushi? Japanese! I thought this place was a steakhouse,” I groan when I look at the menu. All this time, I have been dying to go to Nobu, and I thought it was an upscale steakhouse. How could I have missed that one important fact? “I hate sushi.”
Sarah chokes on her martini. “Are you kidding me? Nobu? Did you think it was American food?” I don’t know what I thought. “Have you ever even had sushi?” she asks.
“No, but I know I hate it.” I’m so pissed. It just figures. We could’ve gone to Serendipity instead, another celebrity favorite. Hell, that place could be Indian or Tai food for all I know. Every day, I realize how little I truly know about things.
“Well, I love sushi and Nobu is a dream of mine too, so let’s just dive in and enjoy it,” Sarah urges.
I figure it’ll be smart to just let her go ahead and order for both of us. She orders the scallops with spicy garlic sauce for me and a sushi sampler dinner for her. I’m happy that my meal will be thoroughly cooked and that I can actually pronounce and understand each item I’ll be eating. Sarah’s a little more cultured than I remember her.
“Sarah, what made you move back to the area?” I inquire. It seems as if being away agreed with her.
“My girlfriend and I broke up and there didn’t seem to be anything left there for me,” she replies, nonchalantly. I must look surprised, because she adds, “Yeah, Vivian, my girlfriend. We were together for two years. Guess you didn’t know that I’m gay? Jasper tells you nothing!”
She’s so confident, not worried about my reaction at all. Jasper knows? That explains everything. Jasper loves lesbians, always befriends them—and not in a horndog-guy way. No wonder he and Sarah are getting so close. Jasper is so afraid of “gold-digging whores,” because he’s convinced they’ll try to get knocked up and steal his money. Sarah’s obviously not interested in his money or his super swimming sperm. But, there are girls out there like that, I suppose. Lauren, the skank who stole my husband, is like that. Dating is grueling and terrifying for Jasper.
“Well, didn’t you date that Jake kid from the Lacrosse team in high school?” I ask, remembering now that they were inseparable their senior year. She was devastated when they both applied to James Madison, and he didn’t get in. It really shouldn’t have surprised anyone. The chopsticks that I’m fumbling with to break apart right now are smarter than he was.
“Jake? Yeah, he was my first love. My first everything, loved him,” Sarah says, smiling and reminiscent as she speaks of him. I don’t quite understand. I want to ask her more about him and about Vivian, but our food arrives, getting us a little sidetracked.
“Miss Garrity, just try one roll and if you don’t like it, then I’ll never say anything about it again,” she begs, preparing a roll for herself. It looks disgustingly foul, not appealing or appetizing at all. “You just need to know how to eat sushi, how to mix the flavors for the ultimate taste. Please. You never really know what you really want in life unless you sample it all.”
“Alright, but if I puke, ruin my dress, and miss Wicked because of your raw fish ball, then I’ll make Jasper fire you.” I warn. She laughs and agrees to the terms.
Sarah gathers a roll, a spicy shrimp roll, puts a light coating of green Wasabi goo on it, covers the goo with thin, pink ginger junk that looks like fresh pussy folds, and dunks the entire roll into a small bowl of brown soy liquid.
This is not going to go well at all. Sarah uses her chopsticks, expertly picks up the roll and leans across the table, offering the roll between her sticks to me. I hesitate, scowling at the sushi; she inches forward, urging me to taste it. I open my mouth; the sushi roll slides in. I pause, grimacing, refusing to actually move my tongue and taste the sushi. Finally, I suck the roll further into my mouth, biting down on the rice and shrimp. I swear I hear angels singing and see bright flashes of heavenly wonder. It’s orgasmic—an explosion of climatic pleasure. Sushi is fucking fantastic; why have I waited 29 years to eat this delicious treat?