One of my last days of high school was a meet-and-greet day with the university, where I’d been introduced to my advisor, chose my classes early, and got to know the general layout of the campus. Although the classes hadn’t been specifically assigned rooms at the time, I knew the halls now, and I easily navigated around and found everything I needed.
When I finished up my last class, I checked my text messages. It was only when I noticed one from Dalton that I remembered again that we had each other’s numbers.
> Hey, just wrapped up. Are you done yet?
It was marked an hour ago, so I knew now that he left earlier than I did.
> Just getting out my last class now. Did you schedule a lunch break, or do you have five back-to-back classes?
I started walking towards the car, eager to get home and make some headway into my first batch of psychology homework... luckily, it involved online reading, and not the actual textbook. As I was twisting the key into the door lock, his response came through:
> Nah, I’m rocking five classes. Don’t really need the lunch break. Would rather save that hour for later.
Well, that was one way to do it, although I didn’t think I had the mental stamina to punish myself with five straight blocks of classes like that.
Forty minutes later, I was letting myself into Natalie’s apartment. She wasn’t in, so I dropped my bookbag off at the foot of my bed and made myself a sandwich to eat for a quick snack.
While I turned on the television and watched some mindless program, it was hard for me to keep my mind off of Dalton.
He’d come out of literally nowhere, and getting into anything with him came with strings… strings that involved our parents. It wasn’t precisely ideal.
But, even though I’d been horrified to see him at our little family luncheon… honestly, it was only because I already sorta liked the guy. More than I was willing to admit to myself.
Sure, he’d pissed me off at the banquet.
Yet, even when he was pushing my buttons, the antagonization had pleased me in small ways. That was still fresh on my mind when I saw him at the bar, and although I wasn’t open to his company at first… he’d endeared himself somehow.
Truth of it was, I wanted to see where this could go, just like he did. As for the details, well… maybe those could sort themselves out. After all, it’s not unheard of for people to break up, even at our parents’ age.
With that understanding in place, he and I began to see each other. It certainly gave me something to look forward to every morning, as no matter how exhausted or disinterested I might be in my earliest class… I would always see Dalton there, brightening up my day.
I occupied myself with homework at night, evening shifts with the banquet staff, and hanging out with Natalie when she was available. Although she wasn’t in school and didn’t really need a job, she was pretty preoccupied socializing with friends, making connections, and currying further favor with her parents.
Honestly, I preferred the life that I had over the one she led. While she had her simpleton boyfriend (although he apparently came with quite the cock on him), she was bound by formality when she wasn’t home.
There was always someone important to her family to see, or another social event that demanded her attention and presence, or another crazy demand from her parents. They gave her this apartment and plenty of spending money, and Natalie had never worked a real day in her life, but she was definitely kept on a tight leash.
And she made sure to remind me sometimes.
“Whatcha doing, Claire-Bear?” Natalie asked one afternoon, dropping her keys off on the counter as she strolled in and spotted me at the dining room table.
“Buried under homework, unfortunately,” I mirthlessly explained as I sipped more coffee. “What about you?”
“Oh, another stupid little gala,” she muttered. “It’s like, come on, people. How many fucking galas do you folks need? I swear, they’re just goddamn bored. All the freaking time. They do this just to piss me off.”
“That’s right, Nat,” I smiled and shook my head. “They have little council meetings where they decide to spend vast sums of money and time in the exclusive pursuit of interfering with your life.”
Natalie shot me a dirty smirk. “It’s a conspiracy, I tell ya, a damned filthy conspiracy. They’re out to get me.”
“How do you think they dress when they’re plotting your imminent demise? Long, purple robes, like wicked monastery monks?”
“You’re right on the money,” Nat chuckled as she poured herself a glass of orange juice and leaned against the counter. “Probably a dozen of them around some ancient stone table, consulting a dark and mysterious prophecy. It probably rhymes. All the good prophecies rhyme.”
Before I could respond, the bathroom door popped open, and Dalton wandered over to take back his seat at the table.
“Hiya, Natalie,” he grinned chirpily.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite British bar dude,” she crossed her arms with a grin. “Goes without saying now, but welcome to mi casa.”
She flashed me a sarcastically aggravated look, and I returned it with a cheeky grin.
“Were you saying something about the rigors of the wealthy life?” He asked, taking his seat beside me and rubbing his palm across my upper back. “Must be exhausting.”
“Yeah, yeah. You might joke about it, but it comes with strings,” Natalie shrugged. “I have to jump through a lot of hoops to keep this gig going strong, and that means keeping up to date on the latest fashions, the latest beefs between my family and others, cordial appearances, galas… it can be exhausting.”
“Oh, no, I wasn’t being condescending,” Dalton looked serious for a moment. “There are, uh, rich people in the family. I heard a lot of stories about that kind of thing while I was growing up. I can only imagine how stressful that must be for you.”
I turned my head. “You’ve got wealthy relatives? And I’m just hearing about this now?”
“Yeah, well, they’re a little on the distant side,” Dalton laughed, but I noticed the edge to his voice. “I haven’t seen them in something like eight years, at least…”
“Weren’t you in the Marines?” Natalie tilted her head. “For, what was it, two terms? Then that would line up pretty well… I mean, hell, you can say you haven’t seen anyone in something like eight years…”
“Yeah, well, they were never really a big part of my life,” Dalton responded with measurably less warmth than usual. “I don’t particularly care to dwell on them all that much.”
I wanted to push him a little more on the topic, but he was clearly trying to deflect it, and I didn’t want to corner him while we had company.
Natalie caught my eye. With the kind of understanding that only close, old friends have, she switched gears and laughed off the tone.
“Well, I know what that’s like. I have relatives like that too. I’d rather break a heel than deal with them, any night, so you’ve definitely got my sympathies there, Dalton.”
She stepped away from the counter and reached for her keys. “Anyway, I’m afraid I can’t stay long, I’m supposed to be meeting that dull boyfriend of mine for dinne
r or something. If I leave now, I might be able to squeeze in a little shopping first…”
Dalton looked visibly relieved that the topic had shifted away, and I rose up to give her a quick hug. “Say hi to Jared for me,” I told her.
“Like I’m reminding him that other girls are out there in the world, are you insane? Can you fathom the leash I have to keep this boy on?” She chuckled on her way out the door.
We resumed the homework, but I couldn’t keep my mind off of the previous topic. It was clear that he was uneasy about it, but what was more telling was that he was clearly hiding some of the details.
There was something he wasn’t telling me.
We made it through the rest of the hour before I finally couldn’t take it anymore. He apparently sensed this coming, because he was growing more and more agitated.
“I’ve gotta ask,” I started to say. “You have–”
“Don’t.”
I tried to look him in the eyes. To my surprise, there wasn’t any warmth there. He was staring quietly at me, his gaze just slightly not meeting mine.
“Dalton, my best friend is rich. You don’t have to worry about money becoming this big deal for me, or anything like that. I just want to know.”
He sighed heavily. “It’s not the right time.”
“It’s not the right time,” I echoed with disappointment. “That’s kind of a big deal for me, though. You can’t just sit on that.”
Dalton laughed. “I knew I shouldn’t have opened my mouth. The second I started talking about that, I knew it was a mistake.”
“Look, if you don’t want to talk about it, then that’s fine,” I hesitantly told him. “But… I don’t like the thought of you hiding things from me, okay? If there’s something big there, I just want you to feel like you can talk to me about it.”
“Okay,” Dalton muttered. “But not now.”
“Not now,” I repeated again, nodding. I regretted bringing the topic up again, and I knew that I couldn’t let him leave with that thought weighing heavily on his mind.
“Listen… we’re about done here, right? With the homework?” I indicated our textbooks, and waited for him to nod. “Why don’t we just curl up on the couch and watch some television for a little bit?”