“Just one.” I kiss him. Then I kiss him again.
He grins. “That’s not a question.”
“Okay, here’s a question. Why are you so good to me?”
D slides his fingers through my hair, capturing me in his laser focus. The intensity in his eyes makes my heart race.
Is he finally going to tell me he loves me?
“Because I care about you,” he says.
Now D is the one kissing me. Eventually he presses me down on the couch. Gently. Everything gently. He has been extra cautious about taking things slowly since I told him why it’s not easy for me to be physical.
D stops kissing me to lock eyes. His laser focus is more intense than ever.
“You’re amazing,” he whispers.
Here in his arms, in his home, in the city where I belong, I believe him.
CHAPTER 4
SADIE
CHAPTER 7 OF YOUR DREAM Life is all about identifying your most important goals, then making a plan to take steps every day toward achieving them. Your Dream Life is this self-empowerment book I’ve been working with for the past two weeks. I can definitely feel the techniques I’ve learned starting to work. Instead of just projecting an optimistic attitude to the world and hoping that my underlying anger will eventually fade away, I can feel myself becoming the true optimist I want to be.
I reach over to my nightstand for the cold glass of watermelon juice Rosanna poured me. Before she left for Donovan’s, she juiced an entire watermelon in the old blender my mom gave us. Rosanna was not kidding when she told me she developed a new addiction to watermelon juice during her South Beach vacay with D. Now she has me hooked, too.
Your Dream Life wants me to write down my top three goals. I tap my red Gelly Roll Stardust pen against the page. This book isn’t only perfect for working on short- and long-term goals, it’s helping me research my future career. I want to be an urban designer focusing on holistic wellness living. Austin opened me up to that aspect of urban design.
He opened me up to a lot of things. . . .
When Austin brought me to the LOVE sculpture and gave me that warm fuzzy he made, I could have forgiven him for everything. There are so many reasons why I love him. One is that he notices the details. Boys aren’t usually the best at that, but Austin noticed the tiny LOVE sculpture replica I put on my desk at the beginning of the summer when my internship started. He noticed, then he made a grand gesture that swept me away.
I put my book down to check the time. If I don’t put my laundry in the dryer right now, someone might dump my wet clothes out so they can use the two washing machines my colors and lights are occupying. That’s already happened once this summer and once was more than enough. When the laundry dumper tossed my wet clothes on the folding table, they either didn’t notice or didn’t care that some of them fell on the floor amid the dust bunnies and grime. I came down to the laundry room only ten minutes after my wash stopped. The punishment did not fit the crime.
Flying down the stairs, I have a feeling I forgot something. My relief at finding my wet clothes still in the washing machines is replaced with annoyance when I remember that my laundry card is twenty-five cents too short to run the dryer. That’s what I was supposed to remember. To add more money to my laundry card online. But then I lost myself in my book. I decide to transfer my wet clothes to the dryer while I’m down here so they don’t end up on the floor again. I’ll come back in a few minutes to get the dryer running.
Back upstairs on my laptop, I go to the laundry service site and sign in. I’m just finishing the card refill when my phone rings. Of course it’s Brooke. She likes to call instead of text.
When we hang up half an hour later, I remember my wet clothes sitting in the dryer. I grab my card and race downstairs, feeling like a hypocrite. People who leave their laundry in the machines for hours are just plain rude, and now I’m one of them.
Someone is in the laundry room when I get there. A boy is digging through a towering pile of rumpled clothes and eating Spree. I’ve seen this boy before. He’s the boy my panties went flying at when we were both doing laundry at the same time.
“Hey!” he says.
I try to play it off like he never commented that I had panties like his girlfriend’s. Ones with little peace signs. I try not to blush, but when I look at him all I see are flying panties.
“How’s it going?” I ask, checking that my wet clothes are still in the dryer.
“Not bad. You?”
“Still wildlife free.” When I met this boy in June, he told me that the building used to have an indoor wildlife problem, but it was fumigated last summer. Indoor wildlife does not work for me. As someone who grew up in New York City, maybe I should no longer be scared half to death by a mouse darting across the baseboards or a roach skittering down the wall. But indoor wildlife never gets less terrifying.
“You should be good,” he says. “But if you ever have a problem, you know where to find me.” He lives below us in 3A.
“We’re not too loud, are we? The people above us are like a herd of elephants.”
“I never hear you. You’re the perfect upstairs neighbors.”
“Good.” I start the dryer.
“Laundry Procrastinator, right?”
“Sorry?”
“That’s how you introduced yourself when we met.”
“Oh yeah! And you were Glutton for Punishment!”
“Nice to meet you again. I’m Jesse.”
“Sadie.”
“Cute name.”
I blush a little. Why am I getting a flirty vibe from him? He has a girlfriend. “Okay, well . . . see you around.”
“One more thing,” Jesse says. “Do you have any single friends who might want to go to this party with me? We’re all supposed to bring someone single and then see if we like anyone there. I know it’s lame, but my friend is making me go.”
“I thought you had a girlfriend.”
“Not anymore.” Jesse shrugs with a sweet smile. “Her choice, not mine.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be. If you’re not with someone who loves being with you, what’s the point?” Jesse throws some of his clothes into a washing machine. “I want to be with a girl who appreciates my laundry skills. Look, I’m separating the colors and everything.” He gives me another sweet smile, adorably proud of his domestic accomplishment.
That’s when it hits me. Jesse might be good for Vienna. She and I have been walking together in the annual Remembrance Walk ever since I was thirteen and she was fourteen. Even though we bond like sisters every year, I’ve never seen Vienna any other time. I’m not really sure why. Maybe because extending our relationship beyond that one day would make what happened to my sister more real? Telling everyone about her is not something I’m ready to do. But there’s no reason I couldn’t get in touch with Vienna and ask if she wants to go to this party with Jesse. At the walk this year, Vienna told me that she liked a good friend of hers, but she didn’t want to tell him how she really felt and risk ruining their friendship. If she didn’t tell him or he didn’t feel the same way, she might like Jesse. She is adorable and so is he. I don’t know; it’s like they have the same kind of energy. They remind me of each other in a way I can’t explain. Plus they both like Spree, which is an odd candy to have in common. I’m taking the Spree as a sign.
“I think I might have a friend who would go,” I say. “Let me find out for you.”
“Yes.” Jesse pulls his fist down in a score gesture. “You rule, Sadie. Thank you.”
“No promises or anything. But . . . I think it might work out.”
Later when I’m folding my clean clothes on my bed, I think about why I didn’t say I’d go to the party with Jesse. He’s cute. And funny. And he has the sweetest smile. It’s not even about him. It’s about keeping an open mind. Who knows who I would meet at that party? Anyone could be there. Anyone could be right around the corner. . . .
But that’s
my whole problem. I had been looking for a soul mate forever. Then I found Austin. I thought the search was over. Even after everything that happened, I’m wondering if I should keep looking for something I’ve already found.
One good reason is that Austin is not who I thought he was.
I didn’t think I wanted to give Austin another chance. I didn’t know if I could trust him again. The day after LOVE, I called him and told him I needed some time to think about it. Then I realized something. We had connected so intensely in such a short period of time that what was happening between us was out of his control. Even if he never spoke to me again, our connection would still be real. He would always know that what he had with his wife should have been so much more. That he deserved so much more.
Austin went above and beyond apologizing to me. He felt sick about not telling me he was married. About what he did to her. To us. He moved out, and now he is staying with his friend Trey in Brooklyn. He even filed for divorce.
So I decided to forgive him.
I finish my laundry and go back to my book until I leave to meet up with Austin for dinner. The book is helping me think about my future, but I still don’t know if that future will have Austin in it. I’m so lost in thought that I don’t even notice a woman is waiting outside my building. She stares at me as the front door swings shut behind me.
I stare back.
“Are you Sadie?” she asks.
I nod. A sinking feeling in my stomach tells me who she is before she does.
“I’m Austin’s wife,” she says. “I thought we should talk.”
CHAPTER 5
DARCY
THINGS LOGAN DOESN’T KNOW I know:
• He came here to scam me out of money to pay off his gambling debt.
• He has been stringing along some beach bimbo this whole time.
• He is going to break up with me as soon as he gets back to California.
I don’t think so.
Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice, you will reap my wrath.
Logan knew me when I was a wild child in Santa Monica. He was totally down with my self-destructive tendencies. Most weekends we would stay out partying all night. Despite my parents’ threats, even a few school nights were casualties. I vaguely remember dragging my sorry ass to class the morning after a particularly rambunctious night, deluding myself that no one could tell I was toasted. Logan excelled at scoring certain alcoholic enhancements and I excelled at sampling them.
Playing with adult beverages was a disaster. I was so wild at one point my parents threatened to send me away to reform school if I didn’t shape up. Like I could instantly flip the switch on what was driving me to self-medicate. But their threat of sending me away was enough to get me back on track.
Getting drunk and acting crazy was my way of scoring attention from my dad. It didn’t matter that the attention I got was angry, usually involving a lot of yelling on his part. At least he was looking at me. At least my existence was on his radar. One could argue that productive accomplishments would have been a better way to go. But I wasn’t aware that I was craving his attention back then. I wasn’t thinking rationally. I didn’t want to think at all. I just wanted to numb the pain.
Now I want to numb the Daddy pain all over again. And numb the Logan pain while I’m at it.
You could say I’ve been on a bit of a bender. Okay, fine. A full-on bender of monstrous proportions. Does a bender even count if you’re hiding it from your roommates? When I get wasted, I either stay out all night or come home after Sadie and Rosanna are asleep. They assume I’m tired the next day from all the Java Stop/Logan drama. And no one’s complained about me at work, so I guess I’m pulling it off.
Logan hasn’t said one word about the wild child’s triumphant return. He doesn’t love me. If he did, he would be trying to protect me from myself.
Not that I’m even seeing Logan anymore. I’ve been blowing him off for the past two weeks, ever since I discovered his hideous intentions to manipulate me. He will not be allowed to hustle Darcy Stewart ever again. But I am aware I can’t fend him off forever. So far I’ve been making up excuses to not see him, everything from working double shifts to final exams. But now that summer session is over and he knows where I work, I am going to have to face him.
My initial impulse was to unleash a torrent of revenge so furious that Logan would be scarred for life.
Sadie talked me down from that ledge.
“What do you think that would do for your karma?” Sadie asked from the turquoise beanbag on my floor.
“Muuphhh,” I went from under my pillow. Sadie was glued to the couch for days when she found out the truth about Austin. Her anguish must have been contagious. Hiding in bed was my most alluring option after uncovering Logan’s dirty secrets.
“Good answer,” Sadie said. “But no. Your diabolical plot would destroy your karma. You’re better than that. You don’t have to stoop to his level. Take the high road. The best revenge would be to show him you’re over him. Like he’s so unimportant he doesn’t deserve your anger. If you can’t be kind to someone who betrayed you, don’t interact with him at all.” She sounded like one of those self-help books she was always reading.
I slid the pillow off my face. It was getting hard to breathe.
“He’s not worth your time or energy. He’s just not worth it.”
Sadie went on to make a lot more good points. So that’s where I am. Avoiding. Numbing. Waiting.
When I moved to New York at the beginning of the summer, this city was a glittery carousel twirling with potential boy adventures. It was a playground that never closed, brimming with endless possibilities for amusement. I want to get back to that fun place. I want to live in that time again. Before Logan came here to supposedly win me back. Before I turned Jude against me.
That is why I’m out tonight. By myself. On the prowl.
Lit Lounge is jumping for a Monday night. Probably because they’re having an all-ages event. I’ve been chilling at the bar, perusing the boys and weighing my options. Three guys have hit on me in the past hour. None of them were my type (i.e. hot, under twenty-five, charming without trying to be). My aversion to cheesy pickup lines didn’t exactly motivate them to stick around.
The bartender just sneaked me another strong drink. Either he wants to hook up with me or he is showing me sympathy for enduring the unwelcome advances of losers. Or both.
“Insomnia!” someone yells at me over the music. He’s squeezing his way next to my bar stool, a cute boy who must have just gotten here. Something about him seems familiar. I examine him more closely because I know I would have given him a second glance if I’d seen him before.
“Excuse me?” I yell back, playing along.
“Insomnia Cookies!”
“I love those!”
“I remember!”
That’s it. That’s where I know him from. Sadie took me to Insomnia Cookies on my birthday. This boy was scrunched up against the tiny counter, wolfing down cookies with another guy. The microscopic store was so crowded that I got shoved into him.
“Hey!” I give him a big hug like we’re long-lost friends. I’m not drunk yet. But the drinks from my bartender friend are helping to speed that along.
He laughs, showing his perfect straight white teeth I remember noticing at Insomnia.
“Good to see you!” he yells.
“Totally!”
“Do you come here a lot?”
“First time!”
“Nice! A Lit virgin!”
“What about you?”
“No, I’m not a virgin! I mean to here! But also in life! Am I completely screwing this up?”
He is adorable.
“I come here all the time!” he yells. “I live a few blocks away.”
“This place is cool!”
“I know!” He juts his chin at my glass. “You’ve discovered the secret to all-ages night!”
“What’s the secret?”
“You
get the hard stuff if you’re a pretty girl!”
The stool next to mine frees up when a girl in this season’s Manolos leaves. Those shoes were on my want list. I stare at her as she walks away in heels I was meant to wear but can’t buy anymore. With every step she takes, my new reality sinks further in. I take a few gulps of my mojito.
Insomnia Boy takes the free stool. He moves it close to mine so we don’t have to yell anymore.
“Who are you here with?” I ask.
“My buddies over there.” He gestures to the back room. “They won’t miss me.”
“Who says you’ll be gone?”
“Oh snap! So I can’t sit with you?”
“Only if you want to.”
“I want to.”
“Smart choice.”
The bartender comes over. Insomnia Boy orders a Coke. I polish off the rest of my mojito. This is my second one and they were both strong. Bring on the numb.
“May I buy you another drink?” He flashes that nice smile again.
“If you insist.”
The bartender brings Insomnia Boy’s Coke. He orders me another of what I was having. Strong mojito number three, coming right up.
“So how was your birthday?” he asks.
“How did you know it was my birthday?”
“Your friend told the cashier. Or did she just say that to get a free cookie?”
“No, it was. It was fun. My friend Sadie took me out.”
“For a birthday cookie?”
“I didn’t want cake.”
“Why not?”
Explaining why I wanted to forget it was my birthday is not part of tonight’s festivities. Tonight is all about Summer Fun Darcy getting her latest boy adventure on.
“The cookies were way more appealing,” I say. “Did you not smell that place? One sniff gave me a sugar contact high.”
The bartender puts my mojito in front of me with a wink. The wink is either cheering me on or competing to stay in the picture. Hard to tell now that I’m buzzed. Everything is blurry around the edges.
“Still,” Insomnia Boy says, picking up his glass. “You should let me take you out for cake sometime. No birthday cake on your birthday? That is just wrong.”