Lost in Love (5 page)

PARKER ASKED HOW I WAS
feeling when I came back to my internship yesterday. A zap of fear stung me. Did Parker know about Austin? If my supervisor found out that Austin and I were together, we would both get suspended. Office romances are strictly prohibited. But then I remembered that I called out sick Monday and Tuesday. Parker wasn't suspecting the truth. He just thought I really was sick.

I hate lying. Some people think that a small lie doesn't count. Of course it counts. Even a small lie is a lie. When I told Parker I was feeling better, I was lying some more. I'm on a lying roll. Just like Austin was.

Before I found out Austin was married, there was always this current of excitement running underneath whatever work I was doing at the office. There was always
the possibility of bumping into him. Maybe he'd make up some excuse to come see me. Maybe I would sneak up to his floor just to say hi. Snippets of daydreams infiltrated everything I was supposed to be concentrating on.

And then there was the time we hooked up in the copy room. . . .

We stayed late after everyone else left. We were naughty interns making out in the copy room and it was scary hot. Until someone came back into the office and started talking on the phone. They could have come into the copy room anytime. The possibility of getting caught switched our hookup to less hot and more scary.

Blueprints are spread out on the long glass conference room table. I stare at them blankly without processing any information. My mind is only half on this project. The other half is terrified that Austin might come down to my floor for some reason. Maybe even try to talk to me. I do not want to talk to him ever again. And definitely not here.

Why do we have to have internships at the same office? Why couldn't we have met in a café or a bookstore or the park or any one of a zillion other places? I used to go to those places with the hope that I would meet my soul mate there. The hope that he might walk through the door any second was fluttering in my heart the whole time. I didn't know what he would look like, but I would know him when I saw him. Talking with a friend at my regular
coffeehouse, I looked up expectantly whenever someone came in. Reading at a bookstore, I glanced down the aisles in anticipation. Going for a walk in the park, I scanned the benches overlooking the river to see if he was sitting there. He could have been anywhere. So of course I found a soul mate in the one place I wasn't looking. A guy I never want to see again.

Enough.

I snap myself out of my Austin haze. I won't let him ruin the rest of my internship experience. I hardly ever saw him here anyway, unless we planned to meet up or he came down to flirt. Good thing he works up on the fifth floor and I'm on the third. Plus he has a job placement coming up in August. He won't even be in the building next month.

My internship is at the Department of City Planning. Right now I'm working on a project for a new green space in Midtown. A vacant lot is being converted into a public area. The concept of starting with a blank slate and having the power to convert that space into anything we want is remarkable. Working on this project makes me want to be an urban designer even more. I can't wait until college starts. I'm going to major in urban planning and design with a focus on environmental conservation and wellness. My professional life is going to rule. But my love life? Remains unclear.

“Hey, Sadie,” Parker says, coming into the conference
room. My heart leaps into my throat before I realize he's not Austin.

“Hey.”

“What do you think of these?” he asks about the blueprints.

“They're incredible. I love the use of trees in this section.” I point at a circular area in the center of the space. Trees will be planted in bunches along the border of the circle. Pathways extending out from the center will originate between each bunch of trees. When Parker first explained this project to me and the rest of the group assigned to revise and refine the layout, he talked about the importance of making urban areas functional, attractive, and sustainable. He said that form and function should be the cornerstone of design. This section with the trees is a good example of what he was talking about, both aesthetically pleasing and user-friendly.

Parker leans a hand on the table, bending down closer to the blueprints. “Do you think there's enough lawn space?”

“Totally. I love the idea of creating a peaceful enclave right in the middle of a busy neighborhood. And the benches are placed far enough away from the main lawn so people can choose to have quiet time. The main lawn might attract rowdy groups.”

“We hope not. But yes, that's the philosophy behind the bench placement. We might even do a wading pond along this edge of the lawn.” Parker slowly traces his finger
along a line of the blueprint. He was one of the original architects of this plan.

The green space project is still on my mind when I fall asleep that night. As I drift off, I visualize my future life as one of the most innovative urban designers in New York City. I'm trying to focus on happy thoughts. I heard that if you concentrate on something happy when you're falling asleep, you will have happy dreams. So it doesn't make sense that I have another nightmare. I was hoping the nightmares would stop when I moved out. Sometimes the nightmares were so terrifying back home that I woke up yelling. Those dreams were so realistic, like I was right back there on the subway when my mom fell. Two guys were fighting. I knew that one of them was going to shove the other. I reached out to stop him, but I couldn't. I couldn't stop him from slamming into my pregnant mom.

I couldn't stop him from killing my little sister.

Different versions of this nightmare played out almost every night for a few weeks before graduation. I was helpless to change the outcome every time. One time I stood up and got between the men. Even though I was seven when the assault happened, I was eighteen in my nightmare. I was brave enough to wedge myself between the men, but I wasn't strong enough to stop their fury. Another time I tried to seduce the man who shoved my mom. I wanted to distract him long enough for my mom and me to get to our stop. Then we would run off the train. He seemed
interested at first. Then his face contorted in rage when he realized I was tricking him, and he pushed me aside. He shoved me right into my mom. That was the worst version of the nightmare. In that version, I was the one who killed my little sister.

I woke up screaming that time.

My mom came rushing in. She had been asking what was wrong for a while. She heard me yelling the other times I woke up from nightmares, but my words were incomprehensible. I told her I didn't remember what I was dreaming about. I was exhausted all the time because it was impossible to go back to sleep after one of those nightmares. I would stay awake the rest of the night, staring at the darkness, playing scenarios over and over in my mind that would result in my sister being alive today. When my mom rushed in that time I screamed, I was so frustrated and sleep deprived that I finally told her what was going on.

But I never should have told her. She would not drop it. She kept having these whispered conversations with my dad. They kept throwing me worried looks all the time. I'm like the last person you need to walk on eggshells around. People like being with me. They like my positive energy. They like that I have an optimistic attitude no matter how bad things get. My bright outlook inspires them to be positive, too. Brooke even said that being around me was like a shot of sunshine. So it was infuriating to have the people
who were supposed to love me more than anyone suddenly treat me like a different person. I couldn't stand to be around them for another minute. I had to get out of there.

Moving into a new place was supposed to give me a fresh start that would make the nightmares go away. I kept telling my mom that I didn't need counseling. Or a support group. Or medication. I kept telling her that the annual Remembrance Walk was enough.

But maybe I was wrong.

There were times when I thought my brother, Marnix, should have gotten help. He basically locked himself in his room for all of high school. When my parents tried to talk to him, he'd yell at them and slam his door. Marnix slammed his door in my face lots of times, too. I know my parents are relieved that he's away at college now. It's hard to live with someone who shuts you out. Especially if they're family.

I'm not slamming doors in people's faces. But am I shutting my mom out when I should be letting her in?

LOGAN WANTED TO TAKE ME
out tonight. But there was no way I would desert Sadie in her moment of need. So I threw down some girl-time plans. I told Logan we could go out tomorrow night instead. Then I told Sadie to get ready to love the nightlife. Hoes over bros.

This girl in my art history class is friends with a bouncer who works at the hottest new club. A bouncer who happens to be on tonight. She totally hooked me up. After dropping her name and working my charms, the bouncer let us in but made us swear not to drink or his ass would be grass. We'd never be let in here again if we crossed the adult beverage line. And I intend to crash this place more than once. So we scored a table and I ordered us virgin mojitos to enjoy while we watch everyone else making fools of their drunk selves.

The DJ is on fire. He's been laying down some sweet tracks that are making everyone rock to the beat. The dance floor is packed. Summer Fun Darcy would love this place if she were still on the prowl for boy adventures.

“What's in this?” Sadie asks after she takes the first sip of her drink.

“Ginger ale. Mint. Lime juice. Um . . . and sugar?”

“This is delicious.”

“Yay. So you're happy to be out?”

Sadie smiles. “Well, we haven't seen anyone freak out yet. You promised a freakout.”

“Oh, there'll be freaking out. Just you wait.”

“Maybe some girl will even throw a drink in her boyfriend's face.”

“Nice one.” I told Sadie all about how I threw that drink in Logan's face after he dumped me. The day after he dumped me, to be exact. At Urth Caffe, which was our place. He was laughing with his friends like nothing catastrophic went down the day before. Like he wasn't even a little bit sorry for ripping us apart. So yeah. I picked up his drink and threw it in his face. It was a badass move I've never regretted for a second.

“Do you think it would make me feel better if I threw a drink in Austin's face?” Sadie ponders.

“I know I'd feel better. And you'd get to diss him publicly. We could track him down in Jersey City. Oooh, maybe his wife would even be there!”

“Like I would want to see her. Think I'll pass on finding out how gorgeous she is.”

“How do you know she's gorgeous?”

“Because Austin is gorgeous. Why wouldn't his wife be?” Sadie washes down the word
wife
with a few gulps of her drink.

Sadie doesn't have to tell me how gorgeous that boy was. I remember running into Sadie and Austin on the stoop one time when I was leaving for a date. They had a vibe like they'd been together for a while. Like they were already boyfriend and girlfriend. But then I found out they had just met.

I scope out the scene. Two guys at the bar have been looking at us since we got here. They're cute in a frat boy way.

“See those guys at the bar?” I tilt my head slightly in their direction. “They've been staring at you this whole time.”

“Which guys?” Sadie turns to look. The guys notice her looking. One of them raises his glass.

“The ones who just saw you gawking at them.”

“Who cares if they saw?”

“It's better to play it cool. They might lose interest if you seem desperate.”

“Are you seriously trying to hook me up with some random bar dudes?”

“Too soon?”

Sadie takes another look at the glass raiser, surreptitiously this time. “He's not even half as cute as Austin.”

“Okay, rule number one for moving on? You need to get over how cute Austin was. His cuteness factor is entirely irrelevant. The boy broke your heart. He's an asshole.”

“But that's the thing. He's not an asshole. He's actually a good person.”

“Name one good thing he's doing.”

“He's dedicating his life to green design for urban environments.”

“I'm sorry, but just because a guy is environmentally aware doesn't exempt him from being an asshole. A person can be a prick and still advocate wind turbines.”

“You know that's not the only good thing about him. He's caring. And protective. And a dreamer like me. Being with him felt the way I'd always wanted to feel with a boyfriend. Being with him was . . . everything.”

We sit in silence with dancehall pounding and club lights pulsing and hundreds of trendy twentysomethings getting hammered. Normally I'd love a place like this. Here you can escape for the night. You can be anyone. You can turn a stranger into your next boy adventure. You can be completely anonymous or spill your life story. Whatever you want to be, whomever you want to be, however you want to be are all within your reach.

But Sadie is not having a good time. I need to step up my support system game. Time for a subject change.

“Can you believe Rosanna is in South Beach?” I say. “With a
man
?”

“I know!”

“How have we not talked about this?”

“I'm really happy for her.”

“Rosanna is radical on the DL. That's hot. I was hoping she had a wild side that was going to emerge. There's nothing like dating a trust-fund kid with the world at his disposal to yank you out of your shell.”

“This is her first vacation anywhere.”

“Seriously?”

“That's what she said.”

My mouth drops open. “She never went on any family vacays?”

“Her family isn't . . . they don't have a lot of money. You know Rosanna is one of five kids, right?”

That I knew. But I didn't know money was so tight in her family. I just thought she needed a style hack. That's why I treated her to some new clothes and accessories. She didn't want to accept them, but I insisted. I even ripped the tags off and destroyed the receipts so she couldn't return anything. I wanted her to feel good about herself. Now that she's with D, I bet she appreciates not having to come incorrect for dinner at Babbo in some busted threads. Just because Mario Batali can pop out from the kitchen in orange Crocs to add the finishing touches to a crackling duck wing or whatever doesn't mean you get to
slum it in daytime attire when you're eating there.

My dad gave me a credit card that I'm allowed to use for almost anything. The deal is he pays the bill every month as long as I stay serious about college. He's not loving that I don't know what I want to do with my life. But the way he sees it, at least I'm in school. He digs that I'm taking summer session to make up some of the credits I missed last year while I was backpacking through Europe. Daddy doesn't want my gap year turning into a gap decade.

“I hope she's okay,” Sadie says.

“She's more than okay. They're staying at like the swankiest hotel there.”

“Do you think she'd call us if she wasn't okay? We're pretty much her only friends in New York so far. I want her to know she can count on us if she's in trouble.”

This is why Sadie is so endearing. She even worries about other people when she's the one people should be worrying about.

“I wonder how the separate rooms thing is going,” I say.

“That makes me like Donovan even more. He knows Rosanna wants to take things slow and he totally respects that. She's smart. I'd only known Austin for ten days when he stayed over at our place. Look where it got me.”

“You're different. Rosanna is way more cautious. More reserved. You know how to take a chance. There's no way you could have known what Austin was hiding. You fell in love. That's a beautiful thing. No regrets.”

“Excuse me, but what have you done with my friend Darcy?”

“She's right here. Did you not recognize me in these wild shoes?” I reach down to adjust the straps of my new Dolce platform sandals. These are proving to be among the most challenging shoes I've ever worn. Challenge accepted.

“Since when do you think falling in love is a beautiful thing?”

I remember how Logan and I used to be. He was my first love, and falling in love with him was like diving into a clear blue sea. I thought I could see everything we were, everything we were meant to be. I was wrong. But the falling part . . . The falling part was pure ecstasy.

“Falling in love is beautiful,” I say. “It's the being in love part that sucks.”

“Maybe you haven't been in love with the right person yet. True love makes people happy more than anything.”

“How can you be so positive about love after what just happened to you?”

Sadie gives me a reflective smile. “That's just how I am. I'm an eternal optimist.”

“Well, I hope the eternal optimist will stop worrying about Rosanna. She's having the time of her life.”

“Bonus—she's getting a break from your snoring.”

“For the zillionth time. I do not snore.”

Sadie presses her lips together but can't hide her smile. “You snore.”

I put my hand up, palm facing Sadie. Then I turn my hand around and give it a confused look. “The hand's not even listening. I was going to be like, ‘Talk to the hand.' But then it wasn't listening to you, either.”

“You should apologize to your hand for keeping it up at night with your snoring.”

“You have me confused with someone who snores.”

“I don't think so.” Sadie takes her phone out of her bag. She searches for something. Then she holds it out triumphantly for me to see. “We recorded you. Snoring.”

“What? When?”

“Right after you insisted you don't snore. Rosanna and I snuck into your room and recorded you. I wish she was here to see this.”

“How did you . . . ?” I examine her screen. A graph is being displayed with sound waves. I can't hear the sound over the loud music, but I get the gist. Whoever thought it was cute to think up this snore app has another thing coming. “You seriously recorded me snoring?”

“We did.”

“Seriously?”

Sadie leans over to see the screen. “Oh, here's the best part. This is where you do a snorting thing that almost wakes you up. Check out how the waves peak.”

Other people might be mad at being recorded without their consent. Or think that their roommates sneaking into their room to record them was creepy. But I'm not other people. I think it's freaking hilarious.

I start laughing so hard I have to put the phone down on the table before I smash it in a convulsive fit. My spazzing makes Sadie bust out laughing. The more I laugh, the harder she cracks up. Tears are running down our faces. Sadie is bent over like her stomach hurts from laughing so hard.

A group of girls on the couch across from us are throwing us contorted looks like we're the crazy ones. But they're the ones all posing on the couch in their micro dresses and overglossed lips, zinging judgment our way for having a genuinely good time.

They make us crack up even harder.