“Professor Milner has filled me in about what happened in class,” Dr. Greyson says. Her voice shatters the silence of the room. And brings me back to reality. I had let my mind drift off a bit.
“Yeah,” I say with a nod. I don’t really know what else to say about that incident.
“He told me about why you were sent here. But now I want to hear it from you.”
“I know you’re an alcohol abuse counselor, but I don’t really drink. Not really. Not at all. I have a beer and I’m completely drunk. That’s how much of a lightweight I am.”
“I understand.” She nods.
“So I don’t really know what I’m doing here.”
“Well, you may not drink, but you did show up to class drunk and gave a drunken speech. So you are dealing with something. And I want to hear about it.”
I sigh and fill her in on the details. She listens carefully. When I’m done, she nods her head.
“So, what’s going on with your boyfriend, Tristan, now? It is all resolved?” she asks.
I shake my head, no. Not even close.
“I don’t think we’re together anymore,” I whisper. I feel tears start to build up at the back of my throat. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
I take a deep breath. And the tears suddenly dissipate without coming out. Thank God. The weepy feeling goes away. And I just feel a little dead inside.
“Something happened last night,” I say. She waits for me to continue. Not pushing me beyond the pace at which I’m comfortable. I don’t know if I have the strength to say it out loud. “The condom broke,” I whisper.
“What?” Dr. Greyson sits up in her chair. I don’t repeat it. “Alice, when did this happen?”
“Last night.”
“You need to go to the health office. You need to get the Plan B pill. It works within 72 hours.”
I nod. I don’t want to.
“I know you don’t want to deal with it right now,” she says urgently. “But you have to. You only have 72 hours. If you go to the health office, they’ll give you a prescription and you can get it filled tonight.”
“I don’t know.” I shake my head. “It’s probably fine. He didn’t…orgasm.”
The word feels awful in this clinical environment. But I couldn’t think of another one.
“It doesn’t matter. There’s still a chance that you might get pregnant. You have to take care of this.”
I sigh.
“Alice, if you don’t promise to take care of this, I’m going to take you to the health office myself. This is very important. Unless of course, you want to get pregnant at 18.”
I don’t. That’s the last thing I want.
“Okay, I promise.” I shrug.
* * *
I stand in line at the closest drugstore, the Duane Read a few blocks away from the dorm. Could this week get any worse? I think to myself, perusing through People magazine. All of these people dressed up in the best dresses for the Golden Globes in warm Los Angeles. Oh what I wouldn’t give to be back there. I don’t have to be at the Golden Globes, I just want to go home. Away from this place. Away from this week.
“Alice? Alice!” I hear someone calling my name. I don’t recognize the voice. I don’t want to talk to anyone right now. Shit.
When I turn around, I come face to face with Tea. And let out a sigh. Tea is one of the best people to run into.
“What are you doing here?” she asks.
“Just getting some medication. You?”
“Me too. Well, not medication, but I have to pick up a few things.”
They call my name. The pharmacist gives me the box and instructs me about how to use it. I nod and pay the amount. $70! Crap. Why the hell is it so expensive? The pharmacist asks me about insurance, but I say I don’t have any. It’s a lie. I do have some but it’s through my parents’ and I don’t want them to find out.
“Oh my God, Alice,” Tea says. “I couldn’t help but overhear. Plan B. Are you okay?”
I shrug. “I’ll be fine.”
I don’t plan on telling her what happened with Tristan, but it just comes out. In the hosiery aisle of all places. Right in front of a wall of leggings!
“I can’t believe that you two broke up.” Tea shakes her head. “I’m so sorry. And now you have to deal with this on top of all that?”
I sigh. And I have to attend mandatory alcohol abuse counseling. And I still don’t know how the hell I’m going to pass my public speaking class at this point. Tea asks me if I want to have a cup of coffee next door. That sounds like a great idea.
“Hey, you know what you need?” she asks as we share a croissant. I take a sip of my coffee. “Why don’t you come to Atlantic City with us?”
“What?”
“Tanner and I are going to Atlantic City this weekend. And I’d love for you to come.”
“No, no, you guys are going on a romantic getaway…” I start to say.
“Well, it is Valentine’s Day, but it’s not like that.”
Valentine’s Day. Oh my God. That’s right! It’s this weekend. I had completely forgotten about it.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“I have to go there to research something for this book I’m writing. Tanner is coming along. It’s too soon for us to go on a weekend trip. So actually, you’ll be doing me a favor if you come.”
“I don’t know,” I say. “I don’t want to be a third wheel. And I’m sure that Tanner wants some romantic time with you on Valentine’s Day.”
“Okay, well, then invite some people. I’d love to have extra people there.”
“Tea, what’s wrong? Are you not that into Tanner?”
She sighs. “No, I am. I’m just…I don’t really want to go away for a weekend with him. I’m not ready to sleep with him yet.”
“Oh,” I say. “Oh, I see. And if you two go away together, share a hotel room…then you think…”
“Exactly,” she says. “So you’re really going to be doing me a favor. And invite your roommates too. The more, the merrier. Juliet. Dylan. Maybe not Tristan.”
“Ha, yeah, probably not Tristan.” I smile. “I guess a trip away from here does sound nice.”
“Excellent, then it’s decided!” She grins from ear to ear.
“So tell me about this book. That’s exciting!” I say. “Was it what you were working on before? About Belize?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “It’s a completely different story. It’s actually a romance novel.”
“Really? Wow.”
“I know. I never thought I’d write one. But then I read a few and they’re really exciting and passionate. And I just wanted to try my hand at it.”
“So what’s it about?” I ask.
“I’m not entirely set on the name yet,” Tea says. “It’s either going to be called A Weeklong Fiancé or Fiancé for a Week.”
“Hmm, I’m intrigued.”
“It’s about this normal girl. She’s a copywriter at an online magazine. Just graduated from college. She has an apartment, a roommate and an unhealthy obsession with chocolate and shoes.”
“Well, who doesn’t, right?” I say with a wink.
“She’s drowning in student loans, has no idea how she’s going to pay them off. And then she gets an offer that’s too good to pass up. Take a weeklong cruise to the Caribbean with a dashing, rich stranger and pretend to be his fiancé at his family reunion. For $10,000. No sex. Business only.”
“Wow, seems like most girls would do it for way less than that.”
“That’s what she thinks. But then she starts to fall in love with him,” Tea says.
“I love it!” I say. And I do. Really.
“So this trip to Atlantic City is a little bit of a research trip. I’ve never been to a casino before and I want to get a taste of what it’s like. What it looks like, etc.”
“I get it.” I nod. “And I’d love to read your book when you’re done.”
“You’ll be the first.”
11
There was no way I was going to go on this trip without at least Juliet. And I was excited when Dylan decided to come along too. They don’t know Tea very well, and none of us have ever met Tanner, but they were down for a fun weekend. When I first told Dylan about this, he invited Tristan as well, but luckily for me Tristan said that he had too much work to do. Peyton was invited too, and she was planning on coming along, until she remembered that she had a big paper due on Monday.
Juliet, Dylan and I share an Uber to Grand Central Station. Juliet and I over packed a little and we’re laden down with bags that wouldn’t fit in the trunk.
“Why did you two have to pack so much?” Dylan asks. He only packed one small suitcase, the size of a carryon. “It’s just two nights.”
“You wouldn’t understand,” Juliet rolls her eyes.
“Just pack a couple of outfits and that should be enough,” Dylan insists.
“And what happens when you don’t feel like wearing one? Or it’s inappropriate to wear it? No, you have to have backups.”
I didn’t pack as much as Juliet, but I definitely took too much. There seems to always be shirts and pants that you think you might wear, that you almost should wear, but for some reason never do.
“So what’s going on with you and Tristan?” Dylan turns to me.
Juliet makes a face at him as if to ask why the hell he’s bringing him up.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It just seems that something’s off, but Tristan didn’t tell me what exactly.”
I shrug.
Tristan and I haven’t spoken much since that night. Though he did corner me by the bathroom this morning and insisted on talking.
“Alice, I just want you to know that I don’t want to break up,” he said. “That’s the last thing I want.”
“You don’t want to break up? I thought that was exactly what you wanted.”
“No, not at all. I just want to take a break. A breather.”
“That sounds like a breakup.”
“No, not at all,” he said.
“And what’s the difference?” I asked.
“I just need a little time. A little space. But I want to be with you. I don’t want to be with anyone else. And I hope you don’t either.”
“So I’m just supposed to wait around for you? Is that right?”
“Look, the way I see this break is just that. A break. I’m not going to date anyone. And I hope you don’t either. I’m just confused. And I need time to get myself back together.”
* * *
“Alice?” Dylan asks. “You okay?”
“Huh? What?” I ask.
“You seemed to have spaced out a bit.”
“Oh right, sorry. I don’t know what to say about Tristan. I don’t know what’s going on.”
“Wait, are you two back together?” Juliet asks.
“No, definitely not. But apparently, according to him, we were never broken up. Just on a break. Whatever the hell that means,” I say.
* * *
We ride the rest of the way to Grand Central in silence. My mind drifts back to Tristan, unwillingly. I still don’t completely understand the difference between a break and breakup, nor do I really care. I’m not sure if I’m down to be on this break, whatever it is. All I know is that I’m looking forward to going on this trip and forgetting all about Tristan and everything that has happened this weekend. I need to dance, drink a little too much, and let go of all this crap.
* * *
The three of us meet up with Tea and Tanner inside Grand Central. As we walk toward them, I smile at the fact that all girls seemed to have over-packed and both of the guys under-packed. Tea makes all the introductions as soon as we come up.
Tanner is definitely hot. He’s about 6 foot 4 with gorgeous eyes and lustrous hair. His dark hair matches his dark eyes and his five o’clock shadow makes him look mysterious. He’s three years older than Dylan. And while Dylan often comes off cocky, Tanner seems confident and self-assured. Perhaps it’s something that Dylan will grow into in time.
Tanner and Tea make a cute couple. He helps her with her bags on the way to the train and gives her a peck on the top of her head as we wait. I’m suddenly really thankful that Peyton decided not to come. They’re the only couple here and the balance of power is definitely on the singles. It would not be the case if Peyton were here.
Everyone gets to know each other during the two-and-a-half-hour train ride to Atlantic City and it feels like we’re old friends by the time we arrive in the hotel suite that Tea and Tanner got for our stay.
“Are you sure you two don’t want us to get our own hotel room?” Juliet asks.
“No, of course, not,” Tea says a little too fast. I notice that Tanner isn’t so quick to vote for everyone staying at the suite. “That’s why we got the suite. So there was room for everyone.”
Well, almost everyone. The plan is that Tea and Tanner get the bedroom, which is separated from the living room with two French doors. And the three of us sleep on the couches in the living room. There are two long couches, one for Juliet and I, and Dylan will sleep on the floor.
“As long as I’m not the one sleeping on the floor, I’m fine,” Juliet announces and starts to unpack her bag.
* * *
“This is going to be a fun night,” Juliet says in front of the bathroom mirror.
The three of us cram ourselves into the bathroom and share it. Unfortunately, there are only two plugs – one short of how many we need. Tea is blow-drying her hair and I’m flat-ironing my hair. Juliet, who’s planning on curling hers, waits patiently for her turn while applying false lashes.
Both Tea and Juliet came on this trip prepared. Not just in terms of the clothes they had packed, but also with their makeup kits. Juliet’s makeup bag can be a whole separate carryon bag. Tea’s isn’t so big, but it unfolds and once it’s all unfolded, it puts mine to shame.
I only packed a small Ziplock bag of only what I need. Now, I’m starting to think that I need a lot of more. After Juliet and Tea unpack their supplies on the counter, it looks like the backstage of a Victoria Secret show. They both have so many tools and brushes that I don’t even know what they’re all for.
“So you know they have eyebrow extensions now, right?” Juliet asks Tea.
“Yes, I know. I saw it on Instagram. Aren’t they amazing?” Tea asks.
“I’d love to get some. I think I over-plucked mine a little bit in high school.”
They both stare at their eyebrows in the mirror. I’m suddenly become super self-conscious of my own eyebrows. Perhaps, they’re not up to snuff.
“Well, not everyone can have naturally beautiful brows like Alice,” Tea adds.
“I know, right? They’re amazing!”
I roll my eyes. “A few years ago, they were too bushy, but now they’re apparently just right.”
“Well, a few years ago, everyone was wearing low-rise jeans and showing their hip bones. And now, it’s all about high rise,” Juliet says.
“Yeah, that’s the cool thing about fashion. It changes all the time,” Tea adds.
“That’s also the stressful thing about fashion,” I add. “It changes all the time.”
I free up one plug for Juliet to plug her curling iron into and go to the living room. I don’t contour my face – just put on some foundation, eyeliner, mascara, eye shadow and lipstick. That’s enough for me.
There’s a knock at the door. When I open it, I see Tanner with a bag of alcohol and a case of beer. Since he’s the only one of us who can legally drink, he was sent out to get everything for the pre-game.
“Pre-gaming is about to commence!” Dylan announces.
Pre-gaming is a very important tradition in college. Since most of us aren’t legally able to buy drinks, we use the time before we go out to get a little drunk. Plus, the drinks are way cheaper this way. Dylan asks everyone what they want. I ask for a martini. Forty-five minutes later, just when we’re all ready
to leave and I’m finally done with it, I’m already feeling like I had a little bit too much. Unfortunately, I keep drinking.
12
I open my eyes. My head is pounding as if someone is smashing on the drums with all their might a millimeter away from my eardrums. A slither of light peeks in through the blackout curtains and my eyes can barely handle it.
“Oh my God,” I whisper. My throat itches. I cough and feel the nightstand for something to drink. My hands lands on a glass. I bring it to my lips. And then take a sniff.
Please don’t be alcohol, I say to myself. It’s not. Just water. Whew. I drink the whole glass. Finally, I manage to open my eyes a little wider. The room is pretty dark, but the light still pierces my eyes as if it’s a sword. I cover my eyes with my arm and look around.
Where the hell am I?
I’m sitting in a tall bed. There are suitcases all around. And French doors across from me. The place does not look familiar, however.
My eyes dart to one side and I spot the bathroom. Carefully, I get up and walk to the bathroom. I don’t put on the lights, but I do look at myself in the mirror. I’m a mess. And not even a hot mess. My hair is completely out of place. Crumpled and sad. My make up is all smeared and I have ugly raccoon eyes. I wipe my mouth – lipstick residue comes off on the back of my hand.
“Where is this?” I whisper.
My eyes adjust to the muted light enough for me to stop protecting them with my hand. I look around the bathroom. It’s familiar and foreign at the same time. I feel like I’ve been here before, but not often. This is not our bathroom back at the dorm. And then I see it. My tiny, bright pink, travel-sized flat iron. And it hits me. I’m at the hotel. We’re in Atlantic City. But for some reason I’m in the room. Weren’t Tea and Tanner supposed to sleep here?
Auctioned to Him 7: The Contract Page 127
