Undertow (18 page)

Before long he walked through the door. When he saw me, he seemed to tense. “Alexandra! What a pleasant surprise.”

“I didn’t mean to surprise you,” I said. “I tried to call a few times, but I guess you didn’t get my messages.”

“Oh, I got them,” he smiled, stepping forward to kiss my head. “It’s just been so busy with classes starting and getting back into the swing of fall semester.”

“How was Paris?” I asked.

“What? Oh, Paris. Very French.” He laughed.

“Is that good?”

“That depends on how you feel about the French.”

I wasn’t letting him off that easily. “And how do you feel about the French?”

“It varies from day to day, but enough about me. How was your summer?”

“Short, but long at the same time.” I studied his face. “I missed you.”

He smiled, making his eyes go warm. “My sweet little painter. That’s kind of you to say.”

I waited, and when it became clear he was finished speaking, I curled my toes and jumped in. “So when are we getting together again? I was hoping we could catch up.”

He shook his head and walked around his desk, back to me. “I’m afraid my schedule is going to be so full this semester. I’m sure you understand. You’re probably just as busy, no?”

I crossed my arms, determined to make him say it. “I can make time for you. I always have.”

“Yes, well,” he turned to face me then, a sad little smile on his lips. “I guess what I’m saying is maybe it’s time for us to stop making time.”

My jaw clenched. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” he dropped into his chair. “Oh, what do I mean? It was fun while it lasted? Let’s don’t make this hard, Alexandra. Just shake hands, and we’ll walk away.”

I nodded. “So you’re breaking up with me.”

He sighed, placing his hands behind his head. “That’s such an unkind way to put it. I prefer we’re bidding
adieu
.”

“What if I don’t want to bid
adieu
,” I said. “What if I want us to be together?”

He lowered his hands, breathing deeply. Then he leaned forward on his desk. “I was afraid of that. I knew this would happen after Christmas when I realized I was your first.” He chuckled, “and here I thought all you country girls were so experienced. Didn’t you have a boyfriend in high school with a Chevy?”

My face grew hot. “You knew?”

“Not initially, of course, but as it was happening, I could tell what was going on. I tried to be gentle, and I hope I gave you enough space after… to take care of yourself.”

I felt ill. “You mean, you went to sleep on purpose?”

He shrugged, “I really was telling the truth when I said grading midterms just wiped me out. I was tired! Besides, what could I have done? Those things are best handled on one’s own.”

My body was vibrating with shame and anger and wanting to kill him. “I can’t believe this. Both nights?”

He shrugged. “I figured that’s how long it would take. And I was right, wasn’t I? By our next meeting, you were all fixed up.”

I stood quickly, turning to the door. “I’ve got to go.”

“What? Have I offended you?” He dared to sound concerned. “Don’t be that way, Alexandra. We had a lot of good times after that.”

“I think you’re right,” I said. “It’s time we said goodbye.”

I grabbed my portfolio and dashed out of his office. Pushing my way through the bodies in the hall, all I could think of was how frightened I’d felt that night and how alone I’d been. And in his mind I was simply taking care of an annoying distraction.

Tears were filling my eyes, and my breath was coming in short hiccups. I thought I loved him. I devoted myself to him all last year. Whenever he called, I dropped everything to run to his side, and now he was telling me I was just another dalliance. Another face in a long line of forgettable rejects.

I didn’t want to cry for that scumbag as Evan had appropriately labeled him, but tears were streaking my cheeks as I climbed the stairs to our apartment. I had to leave Savannah. There was no way I could enter that classroom again. I couldn’t see his face or run into him in the halls without the shame burning a hole through my body. I would have to figure out another way to take the art world by storm. It wasn’t going to happen for me here.

Just then the phone rang. For half a second, I thought it might be Nick. I thought maybe he’d remembered what we’d had and was calling to beg me to come back. He would tell me he was sorry, and he was changing his ways. I’d be the last freshman art student he’d introduce to the ways of the world and then unceremoniously dump.

I hesitated for a moment before pressing the button to take the call. It was Meg, and she was crying, too. “Lexy! Oh, Lexy, I need you to come back right away.”

“Meg?” I could feel myself pulling together. Involuntarily, my pain was surrendering to my concern for my friend. “What’s wrong? Has something happened to Will?”

“No, it’s Daddy. He was at his office, and the nurse said she hadn’t seen him for a while. They were worried, and when they went to check on him, he was passed out. Nobody knew what was wrong, but they think he had a heart attack.” She sobbed hard into the phone. “Oh, Lexy. He’s dead.”

“I’ll be right there.”

Sept. 7, 19--

Dr. Weaver’s sudden death surprised the entire community. There wasn’t a dry eye at the funeral. I was glad to have the excuse to cry. I was broken-hearted for Meg losing her dad so unexpectedly, but I was also reeling from my own loss.

Losing a jerk like Nick Parker was admittedly insignificant compared to the loss of a doting parent, but it was still devastating to me. I’d trusted him. I’d told him all my dreams and my goals for the future and my art. I’d slept with him, given him my virginity. But he was just playing around, waiting for the next bright-eyed dreamer to enroll in his art class. I’d never felt so stupid in my life. God, I was so humiliated.

I sat behind the family at the funeral, and I could feel Meg glance at me every few minutes. Being in the middle of all that raw emotion really brought it out in me, and the tears wouldn’t stop coming. After the service was over and we were back at her house, she took me aside to talk.

“What’s going on?” she whispered. “You haven’t stopped crying all day, and I mean, I know you really liked Daddy, but you guys weren’t that close.”

“Oh, Meg,” I sniffed. “I’m just so sorry for you, and for little Will… not getting to know his grandfather. It seems so unfair. And your mom looks like she’s really taking it hard. They were so close.”

“Um-hm,” she blinked her red eyes. “What’s happened to you?”

I couldn’t hide it anymore. I burst into tears. “I feel so ashamed and stupid. Nick completely humiliated me, and I don’t think I can go back to SCAD. It was so awful.”

I could see my friend’s personal pain surrendering to her concern for me, just like mine had for her, and I wanted to curl into her arms and never leave.

“What happened?” she said, smoothing my hair back from my face.

I sniffed and quickly told her everything that happened, from the unreturned phone calls to the pretty blonde in class to what Evan had said.

“Did you give him a chance to explain?” she asked, unable to believe it.

I nodded. “That’s the best part. I did, and he said last year was fun, but I was getting too attached. He said he was afraid that would happen, his being my first and all.”

Everything in her face stilled. “He said that?”

“Yes.” And the humiliation washed over me afresh.

“Okay, I take it all back. That guy’s a complete jackass. I hate him.” I watched her jaw clench. “There’s got to be something we can do to get him back.”

“Just forget it.” I shook my head. “But I’m seriously considering dropping out. The school is so small, and I’ll have to see him all the time.”

She reached out and held both my hands. “I’m so sorry, Lex.”

“No, I’m sorry,” I said. “Here I am at your dad’s funeral, and all I can think about is myself. I’m the most selfish person.”

“You’re not!” She threw her arms around me, and we hugged each other. “You had a horrible experience. That guy’s a monster. Of course you’re miserable.”

We leaned back, still holding each other’s arms. “But you can’t quit school,” she said. “Then he wins! What if you… I don’t know, took a semester off or something? What do you think? Is there someone you could talk to about it?”

I shrugged. “Maybe a counselor, but I couldn’t say why.”

Meg rose and crossed the room, beautiful even in all-black. “Use Daddy as your excuse. Pretend he was like a father to you, and say you’re taking it so hard. I’ll back you up.”

“Oh, Meg.” She came and hugged me again, and all I could think of were her old words. How it was so wonderful to be home with people who loved me.

Sept. 10, 19--

Wow. Reading back over that last entry, so much has changed! Everything, it seems. Let’s see… I’m living in Atlanta now. Yes—Atlanta! I know, that was fast.

After the funeral, I
did
return to SCAD. Sure, I was humiliated and my heart was destroyed, but Meg was right. And I knew it. I wouldn’t let a loser like Nick Parker take away my dream. I was stronger than that, and I wasn’t quitting or running home.

And then Suzanne came up with an even better idea for taking my mind off the problem.

“Come work with me in Atlanta,” she said.

“What?” I almost dropped everything.

She hopped on the bed in front of me, excited. “I’ve taken a job at Stellar Advertising in Roswell, and they’re looking for fine arts people to create new concepts for some of their other clients. Very prestigious, ritzy-looking stuff. You’ll be perfect.”

“But I don’t know anything about graphic design. I don’t know how to use the software—”

“I’ll teach you,” she said. “It won’t matter at first. You can sketch out your ideas and present them on storyboard. Then when they love them, which they will, I’ll help you get them on the computer.”

“Suzanne!” I grasped her arms. “You’re the best friend ever! But what about school?”

“I’ve worked it out with my advisor so it can be like an internship and count for credit. Of course we’ll get paid, but we also won’t lose our place at school. I know they’ll do the same for you.”

And that’s how I ended up here, living with Suzanne in a suite apartment on Piedmont, in an old historic part of town undergoing gentrification.

The two of us walk to Marta each day to catch the red line to Roswell where our offices are located, and it’s the perfect solution. I’m working in the big city on projects that move fast and end up everywhere.

Suzanne is right, marketing is a fabulous field, and Professor Nick Parker is fast becoming a distant memory.

Jan. 19, 19--

Not a single entry in four months, sorry Journal. So much for this historic record.

Let’s see… So much has happened. How much time do I have?

For starters, I’m home. For good.

It’s been a week, and I’m back in Miss Stella’s big old house, feeling almost like I never left. But it’s a good thing. No, it’s a
great
thing.

I know. Two years ago, I’d never have believed I’d say something like that. And the last time I was here was right after Nick had dumped me. Dr. Weaver had just died, and I was considering quitting altogether, running back and hiding in a world where I knew everyone and where everyone loved and appreciated me.

Instead, I went back to face Nick and school, and wouldn’t you know, it turned out to be the best semester of my life. Suzanne and I ruled Stellar Advertising, and I still can’t believe I agreed to leave it all and come back here to work with Bill.

He says I’m working with Bryant also, but I know who’s guiding this ship. If it weren’t for Bill’s dream, none of this would be happening.

And he’s right. There’s a lot to be said for working with friends and being back home. I didn’t want to get lost in the corporate world, and Atlanta was so fast. In only six months, I was equipped with all the latest gadgets, and I didn’t sleep unless every one of them was buzzing with messages and updates. I lost weight from keeping up with all the deadlines, and I also lost touch with my painting.

Suzanne taught me all about graphic design and computer-generated art, but seeing Bill again reminded me of home and how much I loved painting and being near the water. Life just flies past in the city. I didn’t want to wake up an old lady with all the paintings I still had in my head faded and grey. I wanted to get them out and share them with the world.

Bill was in Atlanta meeting with investors when he called and asked me to dinner. Bryant was with him, and I expected a night of reminiscing, catching up, maybe a little bragging on how successful we all were. What I did not expect was to run into Nick Parker. Or to have Bill show him up the way he did. I was actually a little proud of my former frenemy. He knew how to play the white knight
very
well, and he made it look like I was something worth having. That Nick was a loser for not seeing it. It was an unexpected comfort, from an unexpected source that I very much appreciated.