My Favorite Mistake (22 page)

“He’s not here. He went to stay with Mase for the night,” Renee said before I’d even closed the door. “What did he do to you?”

“This,” I said, holding up my hand. There was a shattering noise as Renee dropped her plate. 

“It’s on her right hand,” Darah pointed out.

“Oh,” Renee said, leaning down to get the plate. “So I broke a plate for nothing.”

“It’s not exactly nothing,” I said, shucking off my soaked sneakers and socks and laying my umbrella to dry beside the door.

“Lemme see,” Renee said, grabbing for my hand.

“Shit. That is some rock. I’m pretty sure that was what sunk the Titanic.”

“It’s gorgeous, Tay,” Darah said.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with it.”

“Duh, wear it and make the rest of the female population jealous. Hunter Zaccadelli doesn’t buy girls rings. That’s just not a thing that happens,” Renee said.

“How would you know?”

“No reason,” she said, looking down at the ring again.

“What have you heard?”

“Oh, just that he’s a playboy. One of the girls in my bio class had a friend that got a little burned by him. She was a little bitter.”

“I bet that’s an understatement.” I wondered if she was one of the girls whose numbers was still in his phone. Maybe it was Chastity. 

“What was her name?”

“Briana? Britney? Something that began with a B. Damn, that is some ring.”

It certainly was.

“Are you sure you don’t want him? Because I’d be happy to take him off your hands.”

“What about Paul?” Darah said.

“What about Paul?” Renee snapped.

“Don’t play dumb, Ne. I know he called you and you talked. We sleep in the same room.”

Yeah! The attention was on someone else for a change. I dove in, pestering Renee along with Darah until she spilled that Paul had called her and wanted to meet.

“I don’t know.”

“Why don’t you have him over for one of our potluck nights? Then there won’t be so much pressure,” I said.

“I guess.”

“Do it,” Darah said. “Right now.”

“Okay, okay. Hold your horses.” She got out her phone and sent the text. “There. Happy?”

“Joyous,” Darah said.

“So back to the ring,” Renee said.

I sighed and showed it to them again.

*****

I didn’t see Hunter until the next night when he came back from classes. I was still wearing the ring. I’d gotten compliments on it all day, and more than one of my female classmates had asked if I was engaged. I had to swallow hard and tell them no.

Besides, Hunter had said he didn’t believe in marriage. I hadn’t seen that it was so great either. My parents were divorced, along with half of the married population. The idea that there was one perfect person destined for each of us sounded way too perfect. It was a fairytale, and not reality. Not that I didn’t like to indulge in the occasional delicious fairytale every now and then,. I just knew that I had to come back to reality.

“Should I assume that since you’re still wearing it that you like it and don’t want it to go away?”

“Yes, I like it. It’s just unnecessary. I only asked for chocolate.”

“I had a lot of assery to make up for.” 

“That is true, but I don’t think it was several thousand dollars worth.”

“You don’t know how much the ring cost.”

“No, but I’m not a moron. I can do Internet research as well as anyone else. I can figure out how much each of these stones is worth, generally speaking, and then figure out the setting and labor and so forth. What? You wouldn’t tell me.”

“You are one of the most curious girls I’ve ever met. You just have to know everything.” 

“Curiosity isn’t a sin.”

“Too bad,” he said. I fought the urge to sick my tongue out at him, because that was juvenile, and I was an adult. “Don’t forget, we have mediation tonight at seven.”

“Shit.” I had forgotten. This should be fun.

“We could make a pact to go and just sit there and say nothing like in Good Will Hunting.”

“I would pay good money to see you be silent for a whole hour. Just about as much as this ring is worth.”

“I don’t want the ring back. I’d lose that bet just so you wouldn’t give it back to me.”

“Why, Hunter? According to my research this ring is worth about as much as Sassy. If you couldn’t find housing, where the hell did you get the money?”

“Well, Miss Caldwell, I prefer to discuss these issues at our mediation. I think that’s a more fitting environment, don’t you think?” he said with a smirk. Oh, he was just infuriating. 

“I’m going to take a shower. Be sure to take off the ring before you join me.”

“Never. It’s never going to happen,” I yelled as he walked into our room. 

Oh, but it could. It could be a thing that could happen, if I let it. I stared down at the ring. I didn’t know if it was my imagination that it seemed to get bigger the longer I wore it. Next week I was going to wake up and it would be the size of a football and all the bones in my finger would have been crushed by it. Then I’d have to get surgery and they’d probably never be able to get my finger back to normal and I’d have a funky finger for the rest of my life and a crazy story to tell.

I was thinking way too much about this.

Hunter was quiet during dinner, as if he was showing me that he could be silent. I wasn’t very impressed. If he could do it for an entire day, that would be something impressive.

Renee was off at another study session and Darah was out with Mase, so it was just the two of us. 

“Hey,” he said as we were finishing, “it looks great on you. I’m glad you like it.”

What wasn’t to like? 

“Thank you,” I said again. It seemed to be the only normal response I could think of in regards to the ring.

“You have to stop saying that.”

“Why?” I asked

“Because it makes me feel weird.”

“Weird how?”

He’d said we weren’t going to discuss the ring until our mediation, but here we were.

“It doesn’t seem like enough. Seeing your face when you opened it makes me want to buy you a million things just so I can see that look every single day.”

“I swear to God, if you buy me anything else, I will kill you.”

“And that. I love that you get pissed about it, but love it at the same time. It’s adorable.” 

“Bite me.”

“Such a charming girl. Didn’t they teach you not to say things like that in finishing school?”

“I missed kickboxing last week, and right now I’d really like to kick some boxes. I think you’d like to protect yours.”

“Is that what the kids are calling them these days?” he said, taking our plates and going to the sink. It was Darah’s turn for dishes, which she would do as soon as she got back from her date. She stuck to the chore chart like it was her religion.

Hunter went in our room and grabbed his guitar.

“Got any requests?”

“
Rhapsody in Blue
,” I said, sort of being sarcastic.

“I gave you a beautiful ring and some chocolate and now you want Rhapsody in Blue? You’re a demanding girl, Missy.”

“Fine. Play whatever you want.”

And then it happened. It was a simplified version, but it was
Rhapsody in Blue
nonetheless. He did Gershwin proud. Granted, it wasn’t the entire twenty-minute symphony, but it was decent. Hunter made the transitions from one section to the other flawlessly. He was a musical genius.

He ended the song and smirked at me. 

“Next.”

“Why aren’t you a music major?” I’d lost track of how many times I’d asked him that. He always made some comment about his uncle and having a good career and other stuff I could tell he was just spitting back to me. He sounded like a guidance counselor when he talked about it, which was why I knew it was total bullshit.

“I’d rather have a lucrative job as a lawyer instead of saying, ‘Do you want fries with that?’ which is what I’d be doing as a music major.”

“What about music education?” I’d seen him with Harper, trying to teach her a few chords. I’d also seen a pink guitar in her room that I had the suspicion he bought for her.

“Me with a roomful of kids? Are you serious?”

“You’re great with Harper.”

“She’s one kid and she’s different.”

“How?”

“She just is. She’s special.”

“I think you’d be good at it.”

 He started strumming a random melody. Now who was deflecting?

“It’s time for our mediation, Miss Caldwell.”

“After you, Mr. Zaccadelli.”

We trooped downstairs to Chris, our resident director’s, room. Chris was about twenty-five and a grad student in some sort of engineering field I couldn’t begin to understand. He was nice, but awkward. You could tell he was only doing it for the free housing and the stipend they paid him. 

“Hello, Hunter, Taylor. How are we doing?”

“Fine,” we both said at the same time. I glared at Hunter. He winked back.

We seated ourselves on the couch, and Chris got his notebook out. Every now and then he’d make notes while we were talking, like he was a therapist or something. I was dying to know what he’d written about us, but all my attempts to steal said notebook had been futile. Maybe I could rope Hunter into helping me with a distraction.

“So let’s get started. How has this week gone?”

“Fabulous,” I said in a deadpan voice.

“It’s been great for me,” Hunter said.

“Okay,” Chris said, looking down at his notes. “Do you have any issues you feel we should discuss?”

“How about that you won’t stop kissing me?” Hunter said, turning toward me.

“How about the fact that you spent thousands of dollars on a custom-made ring and then just expect me to say thanks, and let’s be together and live happily ever after? How about that? How about the fact that you had some strange meeting with a man named Joe that you won’t tell me about?”

“Uh, let’s, uh, stay on track,” Chris said, floundering. 

“How about the fact that you want me, I want you and for some reason, it’s impossible for us to be together, according to you?

“You still haven’t answered me about Joe.”

“You haven’t told me why we can’t be together.” We were in each other’s faces. His was getting redder, and I was pretty sure mine was as well.

“Because.”

“That’s not a fucking reason, Taylor.” He spat out my name.

“Language,” Chris said. “Let’s cool off for a moment. Do I need to bring out the talking stick again?”

“No,” we both said at the same time.

At our first session he’d had us hold this stupid stick, which was really a baton, so we could practice talking turns talking. It had ended with me hitting Hunter with the talking stick and him laughing. 

I really did want to hit him again, but I didn’t want to get in trouble. Chris had looked the other way on the first talking stick assault, but I didn’t think he’d be so forgiving for a second.

“I don’t want to be assaulted again.”

“I did not assault you.”

“Missy, I really don’t want to go through the legal definition of assault with you right now.”

“Why don’t we start with you, Hunter? What has been bothering you this week?”

Hunter ignored Chris. 

“You’re scared. You’re scared about this big, dark secret you carry around. It’s the reason you don’t trust people, the reason you put up this huge flashing sign that says, ‘Don’t come near me or I’ll kick you in the balls.’ It’s the reason you don’t want to give this a shot. I want to know what it is.”

“No.” He could yell and kiss me and do whatever he wanted, but I wasn’t discussing that with him. The only thing worse about him knowing and then running away would be him accepting it. What then? I’d have nothing left. No other reason to say no.

“See? This is what I have to put up with. She is content to try and root out my secret, but if anyone tries to get near hers, she’s got more walls up than a maximum security prison.”

“Taylor, why don’t you respond?”

“It’s none of his business.”

“You are my business. I made you my business. I want you to be my business.”

“I don’t. That’s all. He wants me, and I don’t want to be with him and he can’t take it. That’s all.”

“Is that true, Hunter?”

“Please, that’s bullshit.”

“Language.”

“I’ll talk how I like, thanks. It’s bull because she keeps kissing me and flirting with me and dancing with me. Either you get a sick kick out of messing with me, or you like me, but you’re scared. I’m going with the second.” He’d hit the nail on the head, but I wasn’t going to tell him that.

“I like messing with you,” I said. 

“Prove it.”

“Bite me.”

“Okay, let’s get more specific. Are there any things that Hunter does specifically that we can talk about to resolve?” He clearly hadn’t been listening, or he was just reading from a script. Probably the second.

“He can stop trying to see me naked. That would be a start.”

“Hunter, do you have a response?”

“If she would just have sex with me, then that problem would be solved. Also, it would get me to leave. Two birds, one stone, Missy.”

“Fuck you.”

“Please, let’s keep this civil.” Chris was trying to keep control, but he’d never had it in the first place. “Let’s try a communication game.” Not a game. I didn’t know where he’d gotten these things from, but he made us play one at each of our sessions and they were always lame.

This one involved one of us being blindfolded and the other leading us from one side of the room to the other. It was supposed to build trust, but all it did was make me want to direct Hunter so he’d bump into things. It offered Hunter a chance to make me look like a moron, walking around in a circle with him making me do a crazy dance back and forth. 

“You’re an ass,” I said as we walked back upstairs.

“Nothing I didn’t already know, Miss.”

“I hate you.”

“Nice try.”

“I love you?” Worth a shot.

“Not yet. But you will.” I went to our room and shut the door in his face.

The next week was strangely quiet. Hunter stopped his verbal assault about my secret, for which I was grateful, but it only meant that he was using other means to try and get it out of me. Lull me into a false sense of security, or something like that. I knew he wasn’t giving up. I’d just have to get him out first. Or at least find out what his was.