To the Steadfast (13 page)

“When are you guys
leaving?” I ask.

“Daddy is sending his
jet for me in the morning,” Suzanne says. “You?”

“I haven’t bought a
ticket yet. I was thinking about going into New York City for my birthday
first.”

“That’s right!” Lydia
exclaims. “Your birthday is coming up. Brilliant idea! How about we all get
together next week? Maybe we can all fly into your place instead? I’m dying to
practice my new southern accent.” She says the last part in a Louisiana drawl.

“I don’t know.” I’m not
sure my hometown is the best place for my new friends.

Suzanne stands and sets
her napkin on her plate. “Too late. It’s settled. Lydia and I will fly in next
week and we can have a girls’ weekend or something.”

“Just to warn you,” I
tell them. “There is nothing to do in my town. We’ll have to drive to Atlanta
if you want to do anything fun.”

A few hours later, all
three of us are sitting in the girls’ dorm watching most of our classmates
leave for the summer. We lean against the wall, waving goodbye as girl after
girl heads out. Most of the other girls have known each other for years. I’m
the only new senior. They don’t treat me any different, but sometimes I feel
like an outsider. They have all these memories I can’t partake in. A dozen or
so are staying the summer, but most of us are heading to summer programs,
global vacations, or—like me—the empty homes of parents who are never around. I’m
anxious to see my old friends, but at the same time, I’m dreading it. I didn’t
leave with the greatest reputation. Gossip runs the town of Betty, and I’m
certain I fueled that place for months. I’ll probably stay holed up in front of
the TV all summer.

“Cody?”

I look up to see Violet
standing by the stairwell dressed in our required uniform. Her hair is longer,
but still the same girl I left behind.

“Violet?” I don’t know
if I should run to her or ignore her. Guests aren’t allowed up in the dorms. If
we do have a guest, we have to hang out in the common room.

I pull Violet through
the double doors into the empty hallway.

She grins at me and
twirls around to show off the skirt she’s hiked up inches past school
regulation. “I’ve always wanted to do the naughty school girl thing.”

“How did you get up
here? How did you know where I was?”

She crosses her hands
in front of her chest. “Your parents sent out graduation announcements. Of
course, I didn’t get one, but I heard it from a friend of a friend. It said you
were graduating from St. Cecilia’s Academy and going to college at Columbia
University. I drove up here to break you out.”

I ignore the breaking
out part and give her a worried smile. “I’ve missed you.”

She ignores me and
puckers her lips at me. “Columbia University? You hate that school. You always
swore you’d die before your father forced you to go to that place. Why did you
change your mind?”

“I just did.”

She looks me up and
down in disgust. “What have they done to you? You look almost…happy here.”

“What are you talking
about? Going to medical school will be just as good as becoming a nurse.”

She doesn’t look
convinced. “Who are you trying to impress? You sound like your father?”

I put my hands on my
hips. Who does she think she is coming in here and criticizing me? “What I do
is none of your business.”

She twists the purple
sections of her hair and bites her lip. An innocent expression comes over her
face. “Why didn’t you ever call or write?”

I don’t know what to
tell her. I can’t tell her our friendship was toxic, and I needed to get out of
that lifestyle.

She keeps talking. “Is
this because of what happened with Mischa at the party? What
did
happen with
Mischa when he took you home that night? He refuses to talk about it. He
refuses to talk about you.”

My stomach lurches as
his name rolls off her lips. No, it wasn’t because of him, entirely.

“Tell me you weren’t
sleeping with him,” she probes.

The fact that she keeps
bringing it up, tells me how worried she is about it, and I feel that much
guiltier for lying. I try to find a way to explain it, a way to tell her how I
feel. “My parents sent me away because I was getting out of control. I was
losing myself to the darkness…it’s hard to explain. I wanted to try and find
you so many times, but I was scared of becoming that person again.”

The girl who
depended on alcohol and pills to cure her unhappiness.

“You were my best
friend and you just disappeared. Mischa tried to talk me out of coming here and
convincing you to come home, but I missed you. I had to know why you never
tried to get in touch. A lot has happened that we need to talk about.”

I didn’t have an answer
that wouldn’t piss her off, and I didn’t want her to make a scene here in front
of all my friends.

“Everyone says you left
because you got pregnant.”

I laugh and lean
against the wall to hold myself up. What a rumor that was. “No, I’m not—I
wasn’t pregnant.”

“Good because Elliot
was freaking out for a while about that rumor.”

Confusion clouds my
mind. Elliot? Oh, yeah. Mischa’s friend who I hooked up with in the bathroom.

“I’m sorry.” I shrug
but am not sure what else to say.

“So our friendship
meant nothing?”

“You don’t understand
what it’s like here. I tried to get my parents to change their mind. Eventually,
I just decided to do and be what they wanted. ” I groan and tilt my head up to
look at the ceiling. “Listen, I’m going to be back home in a few days for
summer. We can catch up then.”

Her eyes light up.
“Really? It will be just like old times. We can have parties at your place and
go swimming at the lake.”

I don’t have the heart
to shatter her illusion, so I let her go on and on about all the exciting
things she still loves and I loathe. One thing is clear, she’s still the same
person, but I’m not.

“Drive home with me,”
she begs.

If I drive home with
her, I may not get home for days, weeks even. I shake my head. “Goodbye,
Violet. You need to go before we both get in trouble.”

On Saturday afternoon, I get
back into town. The humid air burns my throat as I
inhale something that New York never had, but I know it will only get worse as
summer progresses. May is just the beginning of a long, dreary summer.

I pay the taxi driver
and walk up to the gate, putting in the same old security code. When it opens,
I drag my beige suitcase behind me. The place looks the same. Large, white, and
empty, and I’m looking forward to some privacy, something I never got at the
dorms, and won’t get at Columbia. My eyes draw over to the house next door.
Killian’s place. It’s dark and quiet. There’s a distant sound of Adama barking,
which must mean Killian is home for the summer, unless something has changed
since last year. Maybe he quit school. He never did care for it. It was too
painful to watch his YouTube channel, I don’t even know if he looks the same.
Did he miss me?

I set my stuff inside
the house and change into a pair of grungy sweats and an old T- shirt. I have a
date with a good movie in bed. After scrounging through the cabinets, I find an
old jar of popcorn. I know Mom has one of those old air poppers somewhere, and
after I find it hidden in the back of the pantry, I plug it in and fill it with
popcorn. As I wait for it to heat up, I fix myself a large glass of my
signature chocolate-cherry Coke.

Something out of the
corner of my eye catches my attention. From the kitchen window, I can see
straight into Killian’s kitchen. It looks like he’s washing dishes and talking
to someone. Someone’s head peeks over his shoulder. She’s a brunette, short,
but too far away to accurately judge. Killian doesn’t bring girls to his
parents’ house. He had parties, but no one but me was allowed upstairs. When
Killian looks up, I drop my head and pretend to be busy. I grab a dish towel
and wipe the sink out. It’s another minute before I have the nerve to look out
the window again, but when I do, it’s empty. When the popcorn stops, I grab the
bowl and hop on the couch and zone out. A few minutes later, the doorbell
rings. Whoever it is, it’s not for me.

 Ignore.

The bell is replaced by
a persistent knock.

I roll off the couch
and walk to the front door. We don’t have a peephole, but the entire top half
of the door is made from a dark stained glass. I can’t see who it is, but I recognize
enough of the figure to know it’s a tall male or an unusually buff woman.

“Who is it?” I call
out.

“Cody?”

“Yes? Who is it?”

“It’s Killian.”

I grab the handle and
pull it open. He’s leaning against the doorway. His dark hair is shorter but
still has that mangled bedhead look to it. He’s tanner though like he’s been at
the beach for a few week. I suck in a breath as I take in all of him.

“Hello, stranger,” he
says. “I saw you playing Peeping Tom from the window. Why didn’t you tell me
you were back?”

He moves forward to
give me a hug, but it’s kinda awkward. He goes in to wrap his arms around my
waist, but I begin with a half hug. When he lifts me up in the air, I give a
surprised laugh. What should I say? Is he mad at me like Violet? It doesn’t
appear so.

“Hey.” My voice is
small and slightly flirty. “For your information, I‘m not a Peeping Tom.”

“I’ve missed you. How
was school?”

I step back and cross
my arms in front of me. “How did you know where I was?”

He waves a hand and
invites himself into the foyer. “Oh, I have my ways. Your housecleaner loves to
gossip by the way.”

“I see.” I close the
door behind him and we stand there for a moment, each not wanting to speak
first.

“I’m just chilling on
the couch. Care to join me?” I point to the other room.

He shrugs, and I lead
the way.

“Cody, chilling on a
couch. This must be a first,” he jokes.

He’s right. Old Cody
would never just hang around on a weekend. She’d probably be partying at a lake
right now.

“I’m not the same girl
who left a year ago.” I detect a bit of snobbery in my voice, which makes me
cringe.

“Okay
.
How have
you been?”

“Very well, thank you.
I came home for the summer before going off to college.”

“Where are you going?
Finally get into nursing school?”

I raise an eyebrow at
him. Why do people keep assuming that? Well, idiot, because you told everyone
that’s what you wanted to do. “No… I’m going to Columbia University. Pre-Med.”

He gives a low whistle,
the exact response everyone gives when I mention the Ivy League School. “I
didn’t realize you were into that type of stuff.”

“You mean grades? I’ve
been a straight-A student my entire life.”

“I only meant because
you told me your dad was trying to get you to go there.”

“I decided it would be
best to join the family business. It took a lot of hard work, but I was able to
redo my entire junior year.”

“That’s great. I mean,
I’m proud of your accomplishment. Wow, Columbia. Your parents must be proud.”

“Well, they did the
pleasantries. Announced my graduation for their reputation. They’re just a
little disappointed I wasn’t at the top of my class. Other than that, they
couldn’t care less. They didn’t even come to my graduation.”

Killian finally sits
down and puts his shoes up on the coffee table. “Well, if it makes you feel any
better. I would have come if I’d known about it.”

That’s when I remember
the girl who was with him in the kitchen. Had he left her alone while he came
over to say hello? That was rude, but if I remember correctly, Killian isn’t
the most well-mannered guy.

“Were you doing
anything special at home?” I ask, dancing around the subject.

He runs his hands along
the front of his jeans while refusing to look up at me. “Not really, so tell me
more about this school you go to.”

“Went to,” I correct.
“I graduated, remember? It’s St. Cecilia Academy. It’s a co-ed Catholic school
with rigorous academic expectations. It’s one of the best in the states. You
can’t get a better education for your child.”

“Sounds like you’re
quoting a brochure.”

I cock my head to the
side. I am, but I don’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that. “I’m just
stating the facts.”

“You’ve changed, Cody.”
After a long stare, he stands and runs his hand behind his head as if he’s
trying to figure me out. “You’re different. I can’t explain it.”

Does he think I’m
unaware of the person I am today? I know this. “That is not necessarily a bad
thing.”

“No, but it’s strange.
I guess I have to get used to this new person you’ve become. So…by the books. I
suppose you don’t drink or smoke weed anymore either, huh?”

“Correct.”

“Damn it! Just say no.
You don’t have to speak so proper.”

Curse words cut into
the edge of my tongue. I have lots to say, but I’d rather not lose my temper on
my first day back. Too late, the words flow out without a filter.

“Just because you could
never decide what you wanted in life, doesn’t mean I have to follow in your
footsteps. I’m not the same person, but I’m better and if you still want to be
my friend, you’re gonna have to accept me the way I am now. Got it?”

“Got it,” he says with
an eye roll. “Is your little shit fit over with now?”

I exhale and inhale,
letting my breaths fill me up. Out goes my anger. “Sorry.”

“Don’t even mention
it.” He looks at the sports watch on his wrist and sighs. “I do have to go. Can
we catch up later though?”

I nod in the direction
of his house. “What about the girl?”

He gives me a
mischievous wink. “What girl?” He practically hops off the couch and heads for
the door.

“I’ll drop by tomorrow
night. We can get food and watch TV,” he says.

“I never said yes!”

But it’s too late. He’s
already slammed the door behind him.

“And there goes my
quiet summer.”