“Here we are,” she murmured to herself, pulling a stack of hangers from her walk-in and laying them across the bed. An armful of shoes followed, and I had to wince at the way a perfect nude Jimmy Choo kitten heel fell off the bed and banged onto the dresser. Those shoes could finance my trip with Rick for a full month.
“I thought this would look perfect on you,” Emma was saying, holding out a grey cashmere shift dress. “You have the perfect hips for it.”
Her eyes flicked down to my hips, and she didn’t have to speak for me to know what she was thinking. My weight gain this summer didn’t escape her notice.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, grabbing the dress from her.
She raised an eyebrow. “Well, are you going to try it on or not?”
I pulled my sundress over my head as she perched on the edge of her bed, watching me with a thoughtful expression on her face.
We’d changed in front of each other a million times, so I wasn’t sure why I felt so uncomfortable right then. Maybe it was the expression on her face—she looked like she was debating whether or not to confess something.
“What?” I finally asked, once I’d pulled the dress on and she still hadn’t commented. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
She frowned. “I’m worried about you.”
“Worried? Why?”
“Because you seem like a completely different person than the one I left three months ago.”
I shook my head, turning away. I wanted to argue with her, to tell her I was the same, but I knew that would be a lie. I was different.
“Anna, you’re my best friend.” Her voice was soft, almost sad. “It kills me that you wouldn’t tell me something so major about your life.”
“This is about Rick, isn’t it?”
“Of course it is. You have a boyfriend, Annabelle! A pretty serious one, from the looks of things. How could you not share that information with me?”
I scuffed my toes against her plush carpet, feeling like a chastised child. “I wasn’t sure how serious it was,” I told her. “I didn’t want to make a huge deal out of something if it ended up being over by the end of the summer.”
It was only a little bit true. Sure, that might have been why I didn’t tell her after our first date. But I’d known for a very long time just what a big deal this was.
“So you would tell me if it got serious?” Her voice sounded strange to me, closed off or something.
I looked up at her, trying to decipher what she was thinking. She met my gaze for a long moment before shaking her head. “It’s already serious.”
I just nodded. She sighed, finally looking away. “I was afraid of that.”
“Why?” I snapped. “Why would you be afraid of that? He’s wonderful, Emma. He’s kind and smart and treats me better than anyone I’ve ever known.”
She grimaced, obviously wounded, and I felt immediately like ten kinds of shit. “I didn’t mean you, Emma. I meant, you know, boys. He’s nicer to me than any boy I’ve ever met.”
“I’m glad he treats you well,” she said, crossing her arms. “But where can this go, Annabelle?”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, come on. You can’t possibly think you’re going to be able to make things work with some drifter who doesn’t even have a job.”
“He does have a job,” I snapped. “It might not be a fancy one, but he works hard.”
“And what about when you go back to school?” she asked. Again there was that note in her voice. It almost sounded like she was testing me.
“We’ll figure it out,” I mumbled, looking away. I’d never been good at lying to her.
“You haven’t had this discussion yet?” she asked, too innocently. “I find that hard to believe. You say things are serious, yet you go back to school in a matter of weeks. The subject has honestly never come up?”
My head snapped back up, and I stared at her, hard. “You know.”
She nodded, her expression so disappointed I felt a stab of guilt—even though I rationally knew that I hadn’t done anything to her.
I straightened my shoulders, trying to convince myself it was better this way. She would have found out eventually.
“How?”
“Your dad let me in last night,” she said. “He was heading out, but he thought you’d be home soon. Your computer was open… I got bored waiting, figured I’d check Facebook or something…”
I’d been looking at flight prices before Rick picked me up yesterday morning. One-way flights, to be precise.
“I didn’t really put it together until I saw the two of you together,” she went on. “And then he started talking about how he was touring the world…”
“Please don’t try to talk me out of it.” My voice was stronger than I felt. “This is what I want, Em.”
She shook her head. “Annabelle. Be reasonable.”
“Reasonable?” I snapped, my fear quickly giving way to annoyance. She didn’t have to be so damn condescending—it’s not like she was my mother.
“You’re seriously considering giving up your education to go run around Europe with some guy you barely know.”
“I do know him! Just because you don’t know him doesn’t mean I don’t. He’s—”
She held up a hand. “I’m sure he’s great. I really am. You have great judgment when it comes to people.” I wanted to snort at that. Half of our friends were total bitches, girls I only hung out with because Emma did. What did that say about my judgment? “But,” she continued, standing now to pace over plush carpeting, “that doesn’t mean I’m not going to fight you on this. School means everything to you—you’ve worked so hard, Annabelle! Harder than anyone I know. How on earth could you be considering dropping out?”
I swallowed, knowing she had a damn good point. This was the one thing that truly made me doubt about my plans with Rick. School had meant everything to me pretty much since I started kindergarten. All I’d ever wanted was to do well enough to make something of myself, to make my father proud of me. For the past ten years, I’d been on the path to do just that. Was I willing to give it up?
“I’m not dropping out,” I said, not sure which of us I was trying to convince. “I’m taking time off. I’ll finish my degree. Just not…now.”
“When?” she asked, stopping her pacing to cross her arms and glare at me. “What’s your plan, Anna? I’ve never known you not to have a plan.”
“Which is exactly why I want to do this,” I exploded. “Because I’m tired of having every little detail planned out! I’m twenty-one years old, for God’s sake! When was the last time I did something just because I wanted to?”
She studied my face closely. “You do work too hard—God knows I tell you that enough.” I closed my eyes, knowing she was right. More than anyone else, Emma was the one who encouraged me to have more fun in my life. “But, Annabelle, God—that doesn’t mean dropping out of school a year before graduation.”
I felt like crying. I’d been trying to ignore the little voice in the back of my mind saying the same thing all summer. It was so hard to argue when I feared she might be right. Standing there in that familiar room, with my very best friend, my secrets exposed to her—suddenly dropping out of school at this point seemed beyond foolish. And while I had every intention of coming back and finishing my degree eventually, I knew damn well nothing was certain. Just look at most of the girls I went to school with, back before the scholarship and my transfer. How many of their plans came true, once they got involved with boys? How many of them got pregnant, got married, dropped out of school? I’d always been so aware of how easily that could have been me. If I would have stayed at that school. If I wouldn’t have met Emma.
“I love him,” I whispered, eyes still closed. It was the only argument I had that couldn’t be refuted. “I want to be with him.”
“Well what about him?” she said, her voice sharp. “Why is he okay with you dropping out of school?”
My eyes snapped open. S
he looked angrier than I’d seen her in years—usually she was an expert at hiding emotions like that. Her mother didn’t believe it was becoming to show any sign of resentment or anger.
“Because he wants me to be happy—” I began, but she cut me off.
“If he loved you, he would understand how important school is to you. He would understand what a big deal this is—how close you are, what a degree from a school like Brown is worth.”
I winced. She never once mentioned the money her parents have gifted me for school, never even hinted at it. But somehow, I knew that in her mind, at least, that was a big part of what my degree was worth—the money her parents paid in for it.
I rubbed my forehead, feeling muddled and confused, like I didn’t even know what we were fighting about anymore.
“I’m the one who wanted to take a break from school,” I told her. “Rick just wants me to be happy.”
She raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “If that was true, he’d wait for you to finish school. If he really loves you, Anna, he’d wait for you.”
I shook my head, close to tears. Of course he loved me. Of course he wanted what’s best. “He wants to show me the world,” I whispered.
She rolled her eyes. “He wants to show you dingy hostels. How are you paying for this, by the way?”
I realized that I was once again scuffing my toe on the carpet and forced myself to stop, to stand up straight. “We’re going to work along the way. Find jobs in the cities we stop in.”
She threw her arms up. “Oh, I feel so much better about this now. So you’ll be washing dishes in some dirty kitchen in Amsterdam instead of finishing your degree from Brown. Awesome plan, Annabelle.”
“Emma—”
“No.” She held up a hand. “I’m sorry, I’m not going to pretend this is okay.” She actually looked close to tears, and Emma never cried. “You’re my best friend. I would do anything for you, Annabelle. You know that, right?”
“Of course I do!” I wiped away the tears that had started to fall. She’d proven time and again that she would do anything for me. Where would I be if it wasn’t for her? Probably working in my dad’s shop—but this time, it wouldn’t be just a summertime thing.
“Then you need to listen to me now. This is a mistake. I know it is. You cannot drop out of school—it’s not you! Think about how hard you worked. How hard your dad worked to get you where you are.”
“I know how hard he worked,” I snapped.
She crossed her arms. “Well, what are you going to tell him, then, huh? Sorry, Dad, I’m in love with a guy who won’t even wait a measly nine months for me.”
“It’s not like that—”
“What am I supposed to tell my parents?” she asked, her voice clearly hurt. “Were you not even going to mention it to them?”
I deflated, feeling awful. “I was going to write them a letter.”
“A letter.”
I knew she was thinking how insufficient—and totally inappropriate—that seemed. They had given me years of support, had welcomed me and included me. Had helped me pay for my tuition so I didn’t have to take out massive loans. “You’re one of the family, Annabelle,” her father had told me simply. “We’re not going to listen to any arguments. We need smart girls like you making a difference. Go get your education.”
It had been an amazing gift; one I could never pay. And now, I was planning to let them down. And so chicken, I was going to do it in a letter.
I sat down on her bed, feeling sick to my stomach. I had no idea what to do now. I had been so sure of everything when it was just Rick and me. He talked about Europe, and I felt a yearning and excitement that I had never known. It felt right, the idea of being there with him. But now…faced with the reality of my life, it felt silly and cowardly and very, very foolish.
“You don’t have to do this, Annabelle,” she said softly, as if sensing how confused I was. She placed a gentle hand on my back. “Europe will still be there when the school year is over.”
Yes, but would Rick?
I shook my head, fear at the thought of losing him making me feel breathless. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Then don’t make up your mind yet,” she said, sounding relieved that I was wavering. “Talk to Rick—tell him that you’re having second thoughts. Tell him that you want to finish school.”
I nodded. I hadn’t given him much indication that leaving school was something that I was worried about—probably because I’d been actively trying to convince myself that that wasn’t the case. But Rick would understand, wouldn’t he? When I told him about how hard I had worked, how much I had sacrificed—he would get it. And he would help me figure out the best way forward. He was good at that, at helping me to see things clearly.
I breathed out heavily, feeling better already. “I think you’re right. I should talk to him.”
“Absolutely.” She removed her hand from my back so she could cross her arms, and when she spoke again, her voice was firmer. “I have to say, though—if he isn’t willing to wait a few months for you, what does that say about him?”
“He’s already put his trip on hold for months because of me,” I told her. “He’s given up so much.”
“And you’re not worth it?” she cried, angry. “That’s bullshit. You’re totally worth waiting for, Annabelle. If he can’t see that, then frankly, I’m not sure he deserves to be with you.”
“You don’t know him, Emma.”
“Well, if he would make you choose between him and your education, I’m not sure I want to know him.”
I tried to picture Rick making me choose and couldn’t. He would never do that. If I told him how I felt about school, we’d figure out a way to make it work. Wouldn’t we? I pictured him finding a job near Brown, working while I took my last classes. Maybe we could get an apartment together. I was supposed to stay with Emma, as I’d done for the last two years, but it wasn’t like she couldn’t find someone else willing to stay in the deluxe penthouse loft her father had bought for her while she went to school.
“He won’t,” I said, my confusion ebbing away with the image in my head of the two of us at Brown. Working during the day, spending our nights together. Making a life together. It was a different image than the one I’d hung onto the last few months, but it was almost as good. And besides, I would graduate in May. What better way to celebrate than to go backpacking through Europe? I had been planning to apply to law school right away, but who said that couldn’t wait a year?
“We should probably get back down there,” she said, standing up. “I’m being a crappy host.”
When I stood, she pulled me into a tight hug. “I’m so proud of you,” she said against my ear. “I really think you’re making the right decision.”
For a long time, I had felt a warm glow of satisfaction whenever Emma said something like that to me. To make her proud, to make her happy, felt like an accomplishment. Tonight, somehow, that warm glow was tainted slightly by a feeling of annoyance. I wasn’t sure where it came from, so I tried to push it down as I followed her out of her room.
It wasn’t until we were nearly downstairs that I realized I was still wearing her cashmere designer shift, the sundress from Rick where I left it on her bedroom floor.
Chapter Three
I didn’t see Rick at work the next day, which wasn’t exactly unusual. He was often making deliveries and picking up parts from various suppliers. I took the opportunity to rehearse my speech about school. Some of my confidence had left since leaving Emma’s room last night, and I was feeling distinctly sick about the conversation we needed to have.
You could always change your mind, I thought to myself while I closed out the till at closing time. Here in the shop, feet away from the break room where we had made so many of our plans, the image of Europe was strong and inviting once again. I could just go, like I planned. Tell Emma once I was on my way.
It was cowardly, sure. But tempting at the same time.
; Rick showed up right at closing time to take me home. He kissed me hello, but seemed distracted. Closed off, almost. Now that I thought about it, he’d been the same way the night before when we left the party. I was too caught up in worrying about the conversation with Emma to notice at the time, but he had definitely been off.
“Are you okay?” I asked once we were both in the truck.
“Sure.”
I watched his face as he pulled out of the parking lot. It was slightly tight. Expressionless. My stomach dipped.
“Rick—”
“I’m sorry, Annabelle,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ve been in a shitty mood all day.”
“Why?”
He was quiet for a long moment, my stomach dipping farther. Was he angry with me? Suddenly he slapped his hands against the steering wheel so hard I jumped.
“Those friends of yours—I can’t believe them, Annabelle.”
“What? I mean, why?”
He turned to look at me, clearly bewildered by my question. “Why? Why? Because they were horrible to you.”
“They were not—”
“Oh, give me a break. That Liz was shooting little digs at you the entire night. Half of them ignored you. It’s been how long since you’ve seen them? You’d think friends would be a little happy to see you.”
I closed my mouth, feeling shamed by his words.
“I wanted to go off on them so bad, Annabelle,” he muttered. “You deserve so much better than that.”
“I told you that I wasn’t sure they were really a part of my life anymore,” I whispered.
He shook his head angrily. “I’m so glad I’m getting you out of here.”
Persuaded Page 4
