CHAPTER ONE
Alison
The front door shut and I put down my small bag.
“Wow,” I said softly, looking around, “nice place.” “Nice” was bland, a huge understatement given what I was looking at. Because the apartment we’d just stepped into was grand beyond my wildest imagination, with marble floors, a huge chandelier with sparkling lights, and even a fountain tinkling lightly in the foyer. But I didn’t want to seem overwhelmed, didn’t want to let on that I was a country girl in the big city, so I nodded and smiled again, keeping it simple. “Really nice.”
My boyfriend nodded dismissively, tossing his keys on a side table.
“Yeah, my dad can afford it,” Jonah snorted. “Since Robert sold his business last year, he’s basically rolling in it, he could burn money if he wanted,” he added, voice dripping with scorn.
I was silent, sensitive to my boyfriend’s tone. Having so much that you could burn sounded good to me, but maybe it’s because I’m from a poor background, so know what it’s like to scrimp and save, to not have enough sometimes. But I guess as someone who’s never had that experience, Jonah was different. He looked at wealth as just plain old money, and not something that you had to save, careful with every dollar.
But I didn’t want to get into it because we’ve only been dating two months, hardly soulmates yet. So I looked around hesitantly once more and asked quietly, “Will we be staying in the same room? Just let me know where to put my stuff.”
And Jonah let out another snort, his narrow chest rattling a bit.
“Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “Honestly, I don’t know what my dad has been up to since the divorce. But to keep things kosher, we might as well put our things in different bedrooms, it’s not like this place doesn’t have enough space.”
Because we’d been walking down a hall to the right, and it seemed there was an endless row of doors, Jonah throwing them open randomly. Oh right, this one had to be the master, with the huge dark bed inside and a giant TV. He shut that door one quickly. But further on down the hall was a guest bedroom with a medium-sized four poster decorated with a comfy white coverlet and Jonah nodded his head.
“Why don’t you take this one?” he grunted. “I think there’s a bathroom attached. You wanna get ready and meet me in about fifteen minutes?” he glanced at his watch quickly, “The party’s at Sarah’s place, should be rockin’.”
And I nodded quickly.
“Sure, but where will you be sleeping?”
Jonah shrugged, unconcerned.
“I’ll find another room, throw my stuff inside,” he said vaguely. “Just meet me in the kitchen in fifteen.”
And I nodded. It was weird that my boyfriend was being so elusive, but I was used to Jonah being an odd duck. Sometimes I wondered what he saw in me, his behavior was so strange, one moment hot, the next cold, all of it a mushy mess. But I wasn’t going to complain. The dorms had closed for the holidays, and I didn’t have a place to go. There was no way I could afford a plane ticket home, and a hotel room was even more out of the question. So I was grateful to be here, beyond relieved at my good luck.
Because I’m really fortunate to be at Hudson University. My family’s not poor actually, we’re fine, honest working class folk. It’s just that Hudson is a private school in New York City, something way beyond my family’s financial means, and it was a scholarship that made things possible. But still, there were no extras, I scrimped and saved to afford my books, and tried my hardest not to get caught up in the luxurious lifestyle of some of my classmates with their designer clothes and fancy laptops. But in the end, it didn’t matter. Because even though there wasn’t much growing up, money isn’t love and my parents doted on me, really lavished me with affection, making me feel warm and cherished, and I knew that my poverty was only a temporary state. With a good job after graduation, I could hopefully live a comfortable lifestyle once the paychecks started coming in.
But Jonah’s family was different. Although I didn’t know much about them, I did know that his parents had divorced just recently, and it made him prickly and odd. Or maybe he’d always been prickly, I’m not sure. But according to him, his dad had done the whole divorced guy thing after the papers were signed, buying this huge pad with all the amenities. There was a giant projector TV in the living room, priceless artwork decorating the walls, and shiny marble floors all throughout. It was a far cry from my family’s apartment growing up, what with my handmade art projects decorating the walls and my mom’s needlepoint that read, “Home is Where the Heart Is” in curvy script. But again, I wouldn’t trade it for the world, I’d had an idyllic childhood.