“I’m right-handed,” I tell him.
“No, which way do you hang?”
“Um…”
He eyes my groin area and I let out a very uncomfortable cough.
“Our pants have a bit extra depending on which side you normally fall to.”
How is this even a thing? All I can think right now is I’m thankful Elle isn’t standing here with me. I don’t know if I’d get over the sheer embarrassment. “Right,” I say, although now that I’m thinking about it, I’m not entirely sure. I can honestly say I’ve never even paid attention.
My personal attendant goes to town, so to speak, with his yellow measuring tape, rattling off numbers to an assistant of his own, that I don’t even remember entering the room. They both disappear, leaving me standing on the platform with mirrors all around me. I glance at myself, wondering what this guy sees. Does he see the stress and worry I have about my next adventure or the bags under my eyes from the lack of sleep I get each night? Every night since I accepted the offer, my mind races, filling my thoughts with dread and endless possibilities. Try as I might, I think about Elle and wonder what she’s going to do during the time I’ll be in New York. Will she miss me, call me and demand I tell her why I didn’t share my news with her?
I’ll be gone approximately ten weeks, living in an overpopulated city, working a nine to five job, three thousand miles away from the people I consider my family, with a three hour time difference. I’m excited, nervous and welcoming the opportunity to do something for myself. Every decision I’ve made since the day I met Elle, has been based on her. It’s time for Benjamin Miller to expand his wings and see what else is out there in the world, and if doing so means Elle, and I are going our separate ways, so be it. It’s probably time and honestly should’ve happened four years ago. California was never my dream. It’s always been hers.
13
Elle
With one last look at my final
for this quarter, I make sure every T is crossed and every I is dotted. For the past week, I’ve crammed everything I could into my brain, knowing at best I walk away with a C-average. It’s better than failing, and while it’s still not up to par with what my parents want and expect, it’s all I can give them right now, with the promise that I’ll do better next quarter.
While I’m still upset with my dad for threatening to cut me off, he’s right. I haven’t been a model student or daughter as of late, and if I want a future, I need to figure things out. However, the future part has to wait because Peyton and I are heading to Aruba for spring break. As luck would have it, UCLA and Northwestern happened to vacation at the same time, a first for Peyton and I. I had asked to go to Cancun and the Florida Keys with my friends, but what I need is time with my sister. Besides, we can plan her wedding and focus on being sisters. For a while now, I’ve felt like our bond hasn’t been as strong as it should be, and I miss it. I miss my sister.
I also miss my best friend. Ben’s the guy who I’ve seen almost every day of my life since I was fourteen. He’s also the guy who has conveniently disappeared, although that isn’t entirely true, I have seen him, in passing, but he’s clearly ignoring me. Deep down, I know it has to do with the night of his birthday. Whatever happened is my fault. The thing is, I don’t know exactly what happened and he’s not talking to me. A flippant wave as he’s passing by doesn’t really tell me anything. I want for him to pound on my apartment door, grab me by the shoulders and shake the crap out of me, all while yelling about how ridiculous I am for whatever I did. At least then, I’d know where I screwed up, and maybe I can try to fix it.
Although, something tells me there’s no coming back from what happened between us. I think we crossed a line, one I never meant to cross. Ben knows for sure, and he’s not saying anything, which leaves us in limbo. I have to do something to fix this… whatever this may be.
After another read through, I make a few changes to my paper, hoping I’m submitting the best quality work I can. I’m not naïve enough to think my efforts will be enough, but I’m hoping. My classmates start to turn their papers in, but I wait. I’m going to use every last second of the clock before I hand my final in. I have so much more to lose, by no fault of my own.
“Five minutes,” the proctor says. I had hoped my professor would be here today or at least her assistant, but no such luck. Even if I wanted to sweet talk my way into a passing grade, I can’t. The man standing at the front of the class with his eyes trained on each student doesn’t give a hoot about who I am or my plight. Of course, my plight is my own. The administrator already took pity on me when Peyton had her accident. I don’t have an excuse now.
Every minute, he announces the countdown. I feel like the song should play, and Rocky and Apollo Creed should start battling it out in the middle of the room. I try to focus on the words I wrote, tweaking and changing them around for better flow. When the test administrator declares one minute left, I save my document and send it to the classroom printer, where a small line has formed. Thankfully, I’m done. The stressing can happen while I’m on the beach, trying to piece my life back together.
As soon as I step out of the building, I tip my head back and let the sun shine down on me. Growing up, we’d come to California during vacations if the band wasn’t touring. From the moment I landed here, I knew this is where I wanted to be. Making this decision wasn’t easy, though. I thought about staying near Beaumont so that I could visit my father’s grave, but with my mom and dad living here, it’s where I wanted to be. Honestly, I don’t know how Peyton does it, living in Chicago by herself. Although, since she and Noah have been together, he’s living there as much as possible.
With Ben on my mind, I make my way over to the café where he has work-study. When he first got this job, I teased him only because he went from working at Whimsicality to the Java Spot, and had a slew of other jobs he could’ve applied for. He said working here made sense, it’s what he knew and could easily do the job without much training. He was right, and this quickly became our hangout, except right now he’s not here when he should be.
“Hey, Tim. Do you know where Ben is?”
He shakes his head. “Nah, he’s not on the schedule today.”
Odd. I smile. “Okay, thanks.” It doesn’t make sense that he wouldn’t be here. He’s always working at this time, but maybe he had a final scheduled. I pull out my phone and send him a text, and then scroll through the barely answered messages. When he does answer, it’s one word, and usually, it’s a yes or no, which is vastly different from a few weeks ago.
I try not to let it bother me as I head back home. Traffic is light, and when I get there, Peyton and Quinn are in the midst of a heated battle over whatever video game they’re playing. They don’t acknowledge me, and that’s okay. This is something they share, although if you look at Quinn, you’d think he wouldn’t be a sports fan. However, this is where his friendship with Noah comes into play. And probably Quinn’s love for Peyton. While they bond over video games and sports, Quinn and I have our music. Well, more his than mine. I’m the least musically inclined one of the bunch, even though I can play the guitar.
“Let me know when it’s safe to walk in front of the television.” I stand there, waiting. I’ve been on the receiving end a time or two, getting yelled at because I walked in front of the TV at the wrong time. Over the years, I’ve learned to wait.
“You’re clear,” Quinn says. Instead of passing by, I drop my bag and take the spot in between them. Both lean toward me as if they know I need their comfort, but neither wanting to bring attention to the fact.
“Who’s winning?”
“I am,” Peyton says.
“She cheats.”
Peyton throws her hands up in the air. “How, Quinn? We’re playing on a console. It’s impossible to cheat.”