This Book Will Change Your Life

by Amanda Weaver

  I cling to his shoulders and bury my face in his neck, kissing his skin, tasting the salt of his sweat on my lips. I’m overwhelmed with sensation, with the building tension. Just when I can’t bear it anymore, Ben shifts and something ignites deep inside of me, a slow-motion detonation that ends in a blinding flash of pleasure. He kisses me, swallowing my cries as I fall apart in his arms, and his pace increases. He’s holding me so tight. I’m wrapped in the cocoon of his body. Then Ben gasps and buries his face in my neck as he comes.

  Neither of us makes any effort to move. I couldn’t if I tried. I don’t want to. I want to lie here under Ben, in his arms, for the rest of my life. Sublime happiness like I’ve never known burns under my skin. I drag one hand up and down his back while I run the fingers of my other hand through his hair. Ben groans and presses a kiss to my shoulder, and we float together a while longer.

  After he cleans up and lies beside me again, he pulls me into his side, my head on his shoulder, his arm around me. Our free hands are joined, fingers tightly intertwined on his chest.

  “This was…” He pauses, searching for the right words. “I’ve never felt like this.”

  I smile and bury my face in his shoulder. “Me, neither.”

  “Thank you for loving me. Please don’t stop.”

  I love Ben and he loves me. But he also needs me. It sets off something warm and protective in me. No one’s ever needed me like this before. This is more than infatuation or physical chemistry. This is alchemy, which I didn’t think was real until tonight. Chemistry is predictable. If you understand the elements, you know how they’ll combine and what they’ll produce. Alchemy implies magic, the elements combining to become something more than the sum of their parts, lead transforming into gold. And I didn’t think magic existed in the real world, but maybe it does—a certain kind of magic. Because this is what it feels like when your life changes, when base metal becomes gold.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Hannah

  Now that Ben and I have taken this major step, all I want to do is stay in bed with him. Everything was so perfect—not just the sex, although that part was great—but the touching and words and I love yous felt amazing. Leaving his side even for a minute is hard, but we promised we’d do this. You jump; I jump.

  So I take the bus back to Cleveland first thing Saturday morning. It’s two hours by car but four by bus with all the stops, so it’s noon before I get home. Dad’s not there. I’m not surprised. When he’s deep into the critical stages of a project, he often works on the weekends to obsess over data.

  I’ll go crazy sitting around the house, waiting for him to get home— Mom’s face looks at me from a dozen pictures, compounding my guilt. So I take the city bus out to the Park Pharmaceuticals facility to see him, like I’ve done since I was old enough to ride the bus alone.

  The Park building is quiet on a Saturday. There are a handful of people working because they’re on a deadline, or the experiment is too critical to be left for the weekend, or they’re obsessed workaholics like my dad. The empty labs I pass are familiar and weirdly comforting. Other girls went to Girl Scouts; I hung out at Park and mixed simple compounds while my dad worked. I practically grew up in this place.

  I find him alone in his lab, of course. He’s got three computer displays across his desk, all lit up with rows and rows of complex data. Next to that is an array of glass beakers in metal holders and several trays of samples. The sight is so familiar, so comforting, that my throat closes up. I wish I could undo whatever’s happened inside of me. I wish I could love it as much as he does. Our whole relationship has developed in labs like this. If I walk away, what will come next?

  The door thumps closed behind me, and Dad glances up. His eyes light up behind his glasses.

  “Surprise,” I say, with a weak wave.

  “Hannah! What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, everything’s fine. I just thought I’d come home for the weekend and surprise you. Is that okay?”

  He hesitates for just a second, his eyes flicking over me, like he can sense my distress. But he smiles and says, “Of course it is. You know you can come home whenever you want.”

  “Can you leave long enough to get lunch?” I gesture at whatever he’s working on.

  He sighs and glares at the glass beakers. “Yes, it’s fine. I was about to call it quits on this round anyway. I’ll start fresh this afternoon. Just give me a minute to shut down, and we’ll go to Finnegan’s. Sound good?”

  “Chili cheese fries always sound good.”

  He goes to work breaking down the experiment while I wander around, looking at the other tables in the lab.

  “You know, that was your mother’s station,” he says, when I pause at one. He’s told me that almost every time I come. It was like she was here with us, watching us work together. Watching me work toward a noble future I don’t want anymore. My neck goes hot, and my stomach twists. God, I’m so selfish, and the longer I stay here, the harder it is to keep it in. The truth is just behind my lips— I can’t wait until Finnegan’s. I have to get it out now or I never will.

  “Dad, I failed my first chemistry test.” It comes out in a rush, a panicked exhale.

  Dad faces me. “What?”

  My voice cracks when I speak— Am I crying? “I failed my first chem test. I thought I knew everything on it, but I just blanked. Dad, I flunked chemistry. Chemistry! And now I’m out of the Honors Program, and there’s no way I can salvage it.” I gasp for air, but I can’t stop this stream of words. They’re fighting their way up my throat, pushed out by Liesel Meminger, Owen Meany, and Sam Clay.

  “Hannah,” Dad says softly as he skirts a table to get to me. “What is it, sweetheart? What’s going on?”

  I knew he wouldn’t be mad— I could have handled anger. It’s the disappointment that breaks me.

  A wave of sobs breaks free and I double over, wrapping my arms around myself, trying to hold together even though I seem determined to fall apart. “I’m so sorry, Dad. I don’t know what happened. As soon as I was away at college doing it on my own, I realized…” Can I say it? I don’t want to— He’s going to be so disappointed. I’m throwing it away, everything we built together, all those years of preparation. The dreams we shared and the nights right here in this lab— I’m walking away.

  “Realized what, Hannah?” He holds my shoulders. “Come on, sweetie. You’re scaring me.”

  I take huge, gasping gulps of air until I can calm the sobs enough to speak. “All these years, me doing chemistry…”

  “Yeah?”

  “I think it was really about us doing chemistry. I loved it because it was our thing, not because I loved it for myself. You love it for Mom’s sake, and I wanted to do it for her, too.”

  Dad exhales slowly. I close my eyes so I don’t have to see the disappointment there. “I’m so sorry, Dad.”

  “Hannah,” he says, his voice shaky. “Sweetie, look at me.”

  I open my burning, teary eyes and meet his. They’re teary, too— God, how could I do this to him?

  “Honey, if I’ve pushed you too hard—”

  “No! I wanted it, too. I wanted to be just like you and work in a lab and develop drugs and save lives. I’m just… I’m not sure I do anymore.” I barely get out the last word before I dissolve into sobs again. Dad pulls me into his chest and shushes me, stroking my hair and making nonsense noises the way he did when I had nightmares as a little girl.

  “Hannah, listen to me. I never wanted you to follow in my footsteps— I want you to be happy. Your mother would have wanted you to be happy. If there’s something else you want to do—”

  “That’s just it. I have no idea what I want to do. I just know this doesn’t feel right anymore. And I’m reading all these books, and there’s so much stuff I don’t know anything about, and I don’t know what to do anymore.”

  “Hey.” He takes half a step back so he can look me in the eye again. “You’re eighteen, Ha
nnah. You don’t have to know. You seemed so set on chemistry, and I was happy to guide you, if that’s what you wanted. But it’s okay to want something different.”

  I sniff a big, wet, ungraceful snort. “Really?”

  “Really. Want to know a secret?”

  “What?”

  “Your mother changed majors three times before she declared for chem.”

  My mouth drops open. “But you said you guys met in class.”

  “We did, when she finally decided this was what she wanted. We got to know each other because I was tutoring her to get her up to speed after her late start. It’s okay to not know what you want right now, and it’s okay to change your mind, and change it again. You’re smart and you’ve got so much heart. You’ll know it when the right thing finds you.”

  His words feel like oxygen after staying underwater too long. I cling to every one like a lifeline. “I was so afraid of telling you. I was supposed to do it for Mom’s sake, just like you. I thought you’d be disappointed.”

  He winces. “I’m so, so sorry if I made you feel that way. You never owed your mother or me anything, Hannah. This is your life.”

  “You didn’t.” I start blubbering again, but it’s okay because so is Dad. He hugs me and I cry on his shoulder like I’ve wanted to all year. And he says everything’s going to be okay, just like he’s always done. I don’t know why I believed for a second he wouldn’t.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Ben

  I’m pretty sure my dad knows something’s up the minute I turn up for a surprise visit early Saturday afternoon. I quit coming home for weekends halfway through freshman year and don’t show my face unless commanded to do so, but I promised Hannah, so here I am.

  We make it through a hideously awkward dinner in one piece. I almost wish Gav was here because at least he breaks the tension, usually by saying something stupid. But it’s just me and Dad, and I have to do this.

  Hannah’s in Cleveland to see her dad, but there’s no way Dale will blow up at her the way my dad will blow up at me. But it’s not about what Dale does, it never has been. It’s about what’s in her head, and I know this is hard for her. But if she can do it, so can I.

  Mom chatters on about the bitchy thing some lady at her gym did while she sips her wine and doesn’t eat, and Dad talks about the Bengals game last Saturday. Finally, Mom says she’s full—after barely breathing on her food—and excuses herself to make a phone call. Dad gets up to refill his whiskey from the bar against the dining room wall.

  I wish I hadn’t eaten because I feel sick. But it’s now or never. Hannah’s handling it right now and so can I.

  “Hey, Dad, I need to talk to you about something.”

  He glances over his shoulder at me with an arched eyebrow— I’ve never willingly come to talk to him about anything before. But he replaces the stopper on the decanter and casually says, “Shoot.” Like we do this all the time.

  “It’s about law school.”

  His shoulders stiffen, and he straightens his spine. He’s already pissed off, and I haven’t even said anything.

  “I take it you heard from Richard?”

  I shouldn’t be surprised he already knows I made it in. Hell, Richard probably called him before he called me. It’s disgusting. If I were going to law school, I’d at least want to get in honestly, because I deserved it. Not like this, as some favor between college buddies. That little flare of anger gives me the fuel I need to keep going.

  “I did. And while I appreciate Richard’s help, I can’t go to law school.”

  Dad turns from the bar to face me. “Can’t?” he says quietly. Too quiet. There’s a dangerous energy about him that I hate.

  “Won’t. It’s not what I want to do with my life, and I can’t keep pretending it is.”

  “It’s not what you want to do,” he echoes back, still in that eerily quiet voice.

  I swallow thickly and soldier on. I’m into it now. No going back. “No. Look, the head of the English Department at Arlington says I’m the best student he’s had in years. He wants me to stay on and get my master’s under him, and that—”

  He doesn’t let me finish— His nostrils flare and eyes narrow as his rage boils over. His whiskey sloshes precipitously in his glass. “Listen, sport. The time for goofing around is over.”

  I want to tell him that the work I’ve done for the past four years hardly counts as goofing around, but he won’t care. The things I’ve done that I’m proud of mean nothing to him.

  “I’m not letting you waste any more time on a major that’ll leave you strapped for cash.”

  “Dad, it’s not—”

  “Ben, I’m gonna be straight.” He fixes me with his pale blue eyes, his thick blond eyebrows furrowed together over his nose. “If you don’t get your ass to law school next fall, you’re on your own. No money for school, no money for anything, the trust fund goes, and not a dime from this family ever again. Are we clear?”

  My heart stops. Dad’s never approved of my major; I’ve always caught grief about it. But he’s never threatened to fucking cut me off. He’s talking about disowning me, and he absolutely means it. If I don’t go to law school, I’m penniless. My shitty salary from Prometheus won’t even cover my rent, never mind anything else.

  He sips his whiskey calmly, watching me mull it over. I’ve read about people facing crossroads in their life, but I never thought I’d face one so stark myself. I could tell him to shove it and walk away, but what if I can’t make grad school happen on my own? Then I’ve blown my family apart for nothing, and I end up writing ad copy or something just as unfulfilling.

  Or I could agree. I won’t be happy, but I’ll survive. I told Hannah over Christmas break that none of us are guaranteed happiness. Maybe it all comes down to that. What I’ve been doing up until now was a kid’s fantasy, but now it’s time to grow up.

  Dad takes another sip of his drink. “So what’s it gonna be?”

  I’m staring at the yawning black cavern of my future if I turn my back on this, and I don’t know if I have what it takes to get to the other side on my own.

  “Ben, you’re a smart kid. You know what to do here,” he says, like he only wants what’s best for me. And maybe he does in his own twisted way. It’s about control with my dad, but it’s also about picking the right future, and that’s a no-brainer for him. Maybe it should be for me, too.

  “Yeah, I guess I do,” I finally mutter.

  “So you’re sending back that acceptance letter as soon as it shows up? Right?”

  The acceptance letter arrived the day after Richard called. All I have to do is sign.

  I swallow thickly and nod. “Right.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Hannah

  I lose track of time for the rest of the day. I went home with Dad, and we had a long talk about what my first semester at college was really like. I told him everything—bombing the first test, the anxiety and fear, discovering Prometheus and the books that Ben gave me, all the things those books made me think and feel…

  It’s a long day, ultimately good, but really draining. By the time I climb the stairs to my room, I’m exhausted, but I need to call Ben. He was facing something just as daunting today, and I’m sure it was worse for him because I’d bet his dad wasn’t nearly as supportive as mine.

  I call him after climbing into bed, but it goes straight to voicemail. That gives me a flicker of unease, but I’m being ridiculous. There are a million perfectly harmless reasons Ben might not be able to pick up his phone. I really wanted to talk to him tonight, but it can wait until morning.

  I fire off a quick text before I go to sleep.

  Dad was great. Everything is okay. How did it go with you? Miss you.

  He hasn’t texted back by morning, which is more worrying. But based on everything he’s told me, it’s possible his dad is still trying to force his hand.

  I text him again to say Dad’s driving me back to Arlington, and I’ll be there by
early afternoon. I can’t imagine Ben will stay in Columbus any longer than absolutely necessary, so I’ll just head over to his apartment as soon as I get back. I’m desperate to hear how it went and tell him about my talk with Dad, but it’s probably better to have that conversation face-to-face anyway.

  Weirdly, as hard as yesterday was, I feel great. The fear and dread I’ve been dragging around with me for months is gone, and I’m free. I’m still completely directionless, but my future will sort itself out, and Dad will be there for me no matter what.

  Now my only concern is Ben. By mid-afternoon, I still haven’t received a single phone call or text, so I head over to his place. It’s Sunday, so he’s got to be back— He has classes and work tomorrow.

  Ben and his friend, John, live in this ramshackle Victorian house in the student ghetto. It was a nice house once, but it was split up into quirky little apartments decades ago and has had generations of Arlington students living there ever since. Putting it kindly, it’s a mess of sloping floors, drafty windows, and sticking doors.

  I ring the bell and bounce on my toes on the sagging front porch, trying to stay warm. A second later, the door opens, but it’s not Ben.

  “Oh.” John smiles. “Sorry, I must have been already coming downstairs when you buzzed.”

  “Is Ben back?”

  “Yeah, he just got in a little while ago. I think he’s in the shower.”

  “Oh, should I come back?”

  John grins and waves me in. “Just go up. He won’t care.”

  John heads out, and I climb the two flights of stairs to their tiny apartment. It’s kind of cute because it’s up in the old attic, so it has angled ceilings and weird little poky corners. The shower is still running as I pass the bathroom, and the thought of Ben in there, under the water, makes me pause.

  What would he do if I joined him there? My pulse races, but yeah… I’m not brave enough to go for that just yet. But maybe someday soon.

  Ben’s room, as usual, looks like a closet and a bookshelf got in a fight and nobody won. His backpack has practically exploded across his unmade bed, and I’m kinda hoping we’ll need that bed later.