Pieces (12 page)

She couldn’t believe she had just said that, because it had been everything to her not so long ago. Now, she wasn’t so sure.

“I know.”

Leaning forward, Naomi tried to look into Finn’s face. The moon was bright. She could see the rigid set of his jaw and the frown on his lips.

“Finn, I understand the pressure thing. My mom went to Harvard too. She’s a lawyer. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel? How much I know that no matter what I do, I will never measure up to her? Coming here has been the closest I can get.”

His silence was thick, but she knew he was processing what she had said. “That’s some heavy pressure, yeah,” he said. “At least you’re doing something about it. I’ve been avoiding so much crap lately. I was thinking about moving home and telling my mom the truth, but then you started coming into Java and we got to be friends, and then we went out that one night, and then I was made assistant manager, and I’ve kept putting it off. Now I see you all the time and I don’t want to leave. I want to try to apply again. I want to make my mom proud and be as strong as I always try to believe I am.”

“Crap, Finn, I’m sorry. I didn’t know I was a part of your decision to stay here.”

“No, it’s a good thing. I told you—now I want to try harder. I’ll apply again and see what I can get, even if I’m put on a wait list.”

“Good, because you’re smart and you shouldn’t be wasting your time working in a café when you could be working in a café
and
working toward designing buildings.” She nudged his shoulder. “Right?”

“Yeah.”

“Jesse is an architect,” she said, surprised it came out so quickly. “He graduated high school early and got his degree in college by the time he was twenty.”

Finn let out a puff of air. “Damn.”

“Yeah, I know. But he screwed up in other parts of his life, and sometimes I wonder if it’s because he was trying too hard to get ahead and impress his dad, who wanted him to teach English instead. I’m saying it’s okay to take things slower. Figure out what you want.”

He turned to her, his attention finally on her. She chewed on her bottom lip as the desire to kiss him again swept through her. No. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Only friends. She wanted Jesse. It was always Jesse ... or was it? The more she looked at Finn, the more she questioned her decision. In the dark, everything felt off-kilter and blurry. Finn was so immediate. She wondered what it said about her that she wanted him all of a sudden. She leaned closer, wanting another kiss.

“Is this what you want?” he asked, backing away. “Harvard? Film? Everything you’re going after? Even Jesse?”

“I-I think so,” she stuttered a little too quickly, trying to recover from the obvious rejection. “I mean, I’m in so deep now, with everything. How could I possible change it?”

He looked at her with longing in his eyes. “It’s never too late to go back. Is it?”

“Go back where?”

“I don’t know. Never mind.”

“No, Finn, what did you mean by that?”

“Nothing.” He stood and offered her his hand. “It’s late and you said you have homework to finish.”

She took his hand, wondering if he meant to ask if she thought it was too late to go back to
him.
It was tempting. “Yeah.”

The ride home was quiet. Finn parked in the driveway and stared at her front porch. “So, are we still on for tomorrow?”

“Sure. Bring the ingredients I texted you about earlier.”

“Alright.”

She opened the door and put one foot out, then paused. Doing her homework sounded like a terrible idea. All she wanted was to be around Finn. Finn. Finn. More and more Finn. “Do you want to come in? We can share a piece of almond cake.”

His smile was nervous. She noticed his knuckles were white around the steering wheel. “Um, I don’t know if that’s the best idea.”

“Please?”

Finn shook his head. “Naomi, don’t. I can see what’s happening, so don’t.”

“What’s happening?”

It was obvious she was an open book. She felt like an idiot with one foot out of the car and the other still in, the whole position awkward and much too similar to how she felt inside her head, divided and vulnerable. She started to pull her other foot back into the car.

“Come on, Naomi. I can read all the signs—you want me. And I’d be an idiot not to admit I want you.” He took a deep breath. “You have no idea how much. But you’ve told me you love Jesse. I’ve felt that you do.”

“I do love Jesse, but I’m confused. The more I see you, the more I—”

“Maybe we shouldn’t hang out anymore.” He focused on his hands. The muscles in his arms flexed.

“Why?” she asked, panicking a little. She didn’t like the idea of losing the only close friend she had around.

“It’s getting too complicated,” he answered. “It isn’t fair to Jesse. I don’t even know the guy, but I’m not going to be the cause of taking you away from him if he deserves a chance with you. He means a lot to you. Don’t screw it up just because we’re both lonely and attracted to each other. Remember that conversation we had about lying? Cheating on him is the same damn thing.”

Gritting her teeth, Naomi kept her foot hanging out of the car. “I don’t know what to say.”

He laughed. “I’m not saying we can’t see each other. I don’t want to lose your friendship, but I don’t think it’s a great idea to hang out as much as we have been—as long as you’re in love with him the way you are. We might do something we’ll regret, and I don’t want some guy who’s been in prison coming after me because I stole his girl.” He laughed again, but it sounded nervous.

“Oh, so that’s it?” she asked, smiling. “You’re afraid of Jesse?”

“I might be.” His hands relaxed on the steering wheel. “I think it’s best if I don’t come over tomorrow. Later, I hope?”

“Yeah, later is good.” Naomi stepped out of the car and bent down to say goodbye. “Just friends,” she mumbled.

Finn forced a smile. “Just friends. Bye, Naomi.”

“Bye.” She closed the door and stepped away from the car. When she went inside, Becca and Derek were in the living room watching a movie. Becca looked up, her face aglow in blue light from the television. “Out with Finn?” she asked, a tone of teasing in her voice.

“Yeah.”

“When are you going to ask him to stay the night, Naomi? Seriously. You’re always together. It’s about time you two—”

“We’re friends, Becca. That’s it.”

Naomi thought she heard Derek snort. She ignored him.

“Right,” Becca said. “Friends. Well, that’s how it starts.”

Naomi gave her a glare, but she doubted it was visible as the light on the television dimmed. “And remember
you-know-who
,” she hissed.

More blue light. Becca wrinkled her nose. “Oh, right. You don’t talk about him, so I keep forgetting about him as an option.”

“Yeah,” Naomi mumbled, “me too.” Tossing her purse onto a nearby table, she went upstairs to finish her homework, but when she looked at it on her desk, she turned away.

XII

October

“N
AOMI, CAN YOU STAY FOR A MINUTE?
”

Stopping in her tracks, Naomi watched the rest of the class file out the door. She turned around to face her professor. He was young and thin, with a mop of tight brown curls on top of his head. The artsy type. Every girl who sat on the front row was believed to have a crush on him. Naomi always sat on the second row.

“Yes, Professor Carlisle?”

He smiled, but it was sticky. She thought about all the assignments she had slacked off on lately and knew something unpleasant was coming.

“I know this class isn’t that interesting to you,” Carlisle said, folding his arms, “but several other professors have spoken highly of you from their courses in the past, and I was looking forward to working with you.” His dark eyebrows furrowed. “I have to say I’m disappointed. What can I do to help?”

She opened her mouth, but couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t sound stupid.
Please help me get back my passion for school. I don’t freaking care anymore. And I miss Finn. And Jesse. And what the hell am I going to do if I can’t get my butt in gear and finish this semester with high grades? My mom will kill me.

She closed her mouth.

Carlisle shifted his feet, his eyebrows furrowing even more. “Your advisor spoke with me before the semester started,” he said. “She informed me about your situation in the past and how it affects you now. She said you might have a hard time and to help you out. I can’t help you if you don’t communicate with me.”

Naomi looked up. “She told you about my kidnapping?”

“Yes. Most of the staff knows. It’s not classified information. I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable, but we have many students here who come from prominent families in society. They have to deal with being in the public eye, just as you have. It might not be for the same reasons, but it’s still difficult. You aren’t alone.”

“No, it’s not that.” She looked at the floor and ground her teeth together. None of it was any of his business. “I don’t know.” Focusing on Carlisle’s shoes, she noticed one of his shoelaces was broken. For some reason, that made her look up. He was frowning.

“Well, I’ll tell you what. I can let a few things slide if you’re willing to give this a better shot. I want to help you succeed. I’ve seen your drive to succeed while you’re here in class—when you’re engaged with other students in discussion—but your assignments are lacking. It’s as if you can’t concentrate at home. Have you tried doing your homework here on campus instead?”

“Not this semester, no.” Mostly, she wanted to be home every possible second in case Finn decided to stop by.

“I suggest trying that, if you can, and if you feel like you can’t keep up, you should withdraw from the class so it doesn’t harm your GPA.”

“Okay.” She straightened her shoulders, determined to do better so she wouldn’t have to suffer through another conversation like this.

Carlisle softened his expression. “We have staff to help you with problems outside of academic issues, as well. I can recommend someone if you like.”

“I have a counselor off campus,” she said, her mouth growing dry as she realized she had to go see Stacy again tomorrow.

“Okay, that’s great. Well, let me know if—”

Naomi’s phone beeped and cut him short. She gave him a weak smile and dug the phone out of her back pocket. She never left the house without it now. “Sorry,” she said, her hands shaking as she glanced at the screen.

Incoming text from unknown number.

Well, it wasn’t Finn.

Her hope plummeted to the floor. Then it soared. She looked up at Carlisle, suddenly dizzy. “Um, I need to go.”

“Alright. See you on Tuesday.”

“Bye.”

As soon as she was out in the hallway, she pressed the button on her phone to look at the message.

Hi, Naomi. So, do you have a passport?

It had to be Jesse.

She typed,
Yes, I do. Um, hi?

As she waited for his reply, she walked down the hallway, bumping into several people as she stared at the screen, waiting. She was pushing open the main exit when the phone beeped again.

Hi. I miss you so much. Guess what?

She typed back,
What?

My parole is over.

Her head felt like it was floating off her body, instantly weightless. For the longest time, she had dreaded this moment. She had thought her new obsession over Finn would ruin everything with Jesse and she would have to tell him she had met someone else. She hadn’t wanted to live through awkwardness and guilt, but this was all different than she had imagined. Why didn’t he
call
her? She needed to hear his voice. The very thought of him connected to her now, typing to her, was surreal.

She typed,
Wow, so fast? How?

A long pause.

Last of the paperwork is going through,
he sent.

The sun beat down on her head as she walked to the parking lot. Her feet felt light, as if they weren’t there at all.

She typed,
When can I see you? Can you call me?

Yes. When is good for you?

Anytime.

Okay. I have something huge to ask you about your passport.

My passport? What about my passport? Tell me!

There was another long pause in his response time. She reached her car and got inside, fastening her seatbelt as she started the engine. Jesse still hadn’t responded by the time she drove onto the main road and headed home. Finn was supposed to come over tonight—the first time in two weeks. She would have to cancel.

Her phone beeped and she picked it up off the passenger seat.

Italy.

Italy? She almost dropped the phone. When she looked back up at the road, another car was heading straight for her. She was in the other lane. Cursing, she let the phone drop and swerved back into the correct lane, barely missing the other car. It honked long and hard as it passed by her. She gripped her steering wheel so hard her hands hurt. Adrenaline raced through her, making her vision fuzzy for a moment. She had to pull over and stop the car. Finding the first parking lot she could, she pulled into a stall and stared straight ahead. She was at the Java Lounge. Crap.

Her phone beeped again. She picked it up off the floor.

Are you there?

Yes, sorry, I was driving.
As she waited for him to respond, she leaned back in her seat and took long, deep breaths.

Oh, sorry. Do I need to let you go?

No, I’m stopped now.

Do you want me to call you now? I just got home, so I can call if you want. You okay?

Call me.

She gripped the phone and waited for it to ring. At least she had seen him a few months ago and the initial shock of talking to him for the first time in years was over. Still, she was so nervous she thought she might pass out. Or maybe that was the leftover adrenaline from almost hitting another car head-on.