Trevor claimed he wanted to forget the 48 or so hours they were apart and never speak of it again. Sasha had readily agreed, thinking it the perfect solution at the time. Unfortunately, her easy out had turned into months of self-reproach and second guessing. The problem with omissions is that they still felt like lies. The longer a person kept them, the greater the fear of their discovery became.
Sasha opened her eyes, realizing she was awake. The teasing caresses of her dreams were replaced by the stiff scratch of cheap sheets. Across the room, huddled under a thick stack of covers, her new roommate slept. Lulu Fritz had moved into Sasha’s two-bedroom suite that semester. Jo Garson and Carrie Hunter shared the other bedroom.
Lulu was a sophomore taking undergrad classes. Sasha didn’t have much in common with her, but the housing department gave her a break on expenses for taking in the underclassman roommate. It had only been a few weeks, as the spring semester was new, but so far Sasha knew Lulu had an affinity for freestyle jazz, the color orange, creative writing, instant coffee and the freezing temperatures of her northern North Dakota home. Lulu turned down the heat every evening. Late February brought with it a bitter New York winter and Sasha awoke feeling like she lived in the Arctic. She shot the sleeping Lulu a dirty look, as she grabbed for her plush robe on the floor next to her bed.
Slipping the robe over her arms, Sasha turned her alarm clock off before it had a chance to beep and made her way to the small kitchenette where Jo rummaged through the small fridge. Sasha yawned, shuffling her feet to join her. There wasn’t much room for cooking, but they managed to make do. After years in school, they had the art of sparse living down.
‘Morning,’ Jo mumbled, finding what she was looking for. Tall and thin, Jo was a fiery redhead with beautifully translucent skin. Tiny freckles dotted the bridge of her nose. She had the body of a model and an awkward grace that made her endearing. She pulled out a handful of single-serving flavored creamers and set them on the small table next to the brewing coffee pot. ‘I didn’t hear your alarm go off.’
‘Can’t sleep.’ Sasha took two mugs off a tray next to the pot and turned them over. She poured a serving of French vanilla into one and hazelnut into the other. ‘It’s warmer in here. My room is an icebox. I think Lulu opens a window in the middle of the night. Either that or she’s the abominable snow girl radiating the frosty temperatures of hell.’
‘Hell’s hot, sweetie,’ Jo teased.
‘I beg to differ.’ Sasha pulled the robe tighter and sat down at the table, adding wryly, ‘Sweetie.’
‘Hey, watch what you say to my girl,’ Carrie warned, shuffling out of her room.
Carrie was average in height and weight, with chin-length brown hair and matching eyes. The woman never wore makeup, unless she was going clubbing. After pausing long enough to kiss Jo on the cheek, Carrie reached to grab her own cup. She didn’t wait for the pot to stop brewing as she pulled the carafe off the burner and filled her cup. The sizzle of coffee hitting the hot plate sounded.
‘You caught me.’ Sasha gave a small laugh. ‘I’m hoping you’ll defend your turf. A broken leg will get me out of Collins’s internship for sure.’
Professor Collins was her advisor and the head of one of the humanities departments. He had taken a keen interest in seeing her graduate, going so far as to petition to stay her advisor even as she kept trying to change her major. At 25, Sasha had been a college student for six and a half years and that wasn’t counting the early courses she took while still in school. Collins pushed her to find some focus. How could she explain to him that deciding what to do with the rest of her life terrified her? She didn’t understand it completely herself.
‘I think you’re just scared of actually finishing a degree,’ Jo said, astute as always.
‘I’m scared of those student loan payments that will come due as soon as I do,’ Sasha answered. Giving up on waiting for the coffee pot to finish, she grabbed the carafe and followed Carrie’s example in making a mess. ‘I have nightmares about receiving my diploma and opening it up to find a huge bill, like the kind you get at a hotel after your stay, only this one is as thick as a phone book and—’
‘So the idea is to keep adding onto the debt?’ Carrie laughed, only to add sarcastically, ‘Great plan, Sash. Maybe you should switch to a financial planning degree.’
‘Huh, don’t think I’ve done that one yet,’ Sasha drawled sardonically. ‘I’ll be sure to get right on that.’
‘Why are you worried? That rich boy of yours will pay them off for you. Kingston’s family could buy you fifteen degrees.’ Jo eyed her cup, but didn’t reach for the pot. Carrie sighed and did it for her. ‘Not that you’ll listen to me. If you did, we’d have a new television in here and an espresso machine.’
Sasha automatically glanced back towards her room to see if Lulu heard. Jo sighed heavily. Carrie said, ‘She can’t hear us. Besides, who’s she going to tell?’
‘I don’t understand why this is such a big secret,’ Jo said, shaking her head in disapproval. ‘Your friends know, his friends know.’
Sasha wasn’t so sure she understood it either, but guilt over what she’d done kept her from pushing Trevor for more of a public commitment. They’d got to a really comfortable place in their relationship and she didn’t want to lose that. Also there was the small matter of how she hadn’t told her family about him. How could she pressure him for a public declaration when she couldn’t bring herself to tell her family?
‘It’s not as bad as you make it sound. I have dinner at his parents’ all the time. We just don’t do the public paparazzi thing. He’s New York royalty and we don’t want the pressure of having our relationship become fodder for the tabloids.’
‘Wow.’ Carrie nodded slowly. ‘I can almost believe you meant that this time. This isn’t Hollywood. Who cares if all of New York sees he’s dating. It’s not like you’re a leper. You’re skinny as a rail and photograph well.’
‘Society pages can be just as bad as the tabloids,’ Sasha said.
‘Leave her alone, honey,’ Jo scolded, though the disapproval on her face matched Carrie’s. To Sasha, she said, ‘Kat called yesterday, by the way. She said your brother-in-law is back from Africa and he wanted you to know that if you need help coming up with an idea for your final project to give him call. He’s got new specimens that he’s cataloging for the museum.’
Her sister, Kat, had married an entomologist, Dr Vincent Richmond, who ran his own laboratory in the DJP Department of Entomology at one of the big museums in the Upper East Side. He was filthy rich, adorably absentminded and lacked the arrogance of the rest of his family. Predictably enough, his parents were friends with Trevor’s parents. She used to think that news of her dating Trevor would get back to the family that way. It never did. Apparently, Mr and Mrs Kingston didn’t talk about their son’s girlfriend.
Sasha shivered. ‘I think I’ll have to pass. Vincent’s an entomologist and a new specimen is probably code for giant man-eating dung beetles from the deepest parts of Africa.’
Jo wrinkled her nose. Carrie’s eyes lit with excitement, as she said, ‘If that’s true, you have to convince him to let me use them in my new film for cinema class. I have to do a short horror project. I think a campy remake of 1950s horror classics could be just the thing. I could call it
Attack of the Giant Man-Eating Dung Beetles
.’
‘I’d watch it.’ Sasha took a big drink from her coffee, ignoring the slight sting of heat in her mouth and throat before setting the empty mug down. She laughed at the request. ‘I’ll do what I can but I’m not making any promises.’
Carrie pumped her fist into the air, jumping in excitement. ‘Yes! That’s freakin’ awesome! Giant bugs. I’m going to sketch some storyboards today.’ She hurried towards her bedroom.
‘Carrie, don’t get your hopes—’ Sasha began.
Jo waved her hand. ‘Don’t bother. She’s in creative mode and won’t hear another word you have to say.’
Sasha dragged her feet in the snow, ignoring the fact that she couldn’t feel her numb toes. She’d been in a cab until the traffic brought them to a standstill. With the meter running, it was cheaper to get out and walk, not to mention faster. Working part-time as a waitress didn’t really pay for the luxuries.
Her boots didn’t offer much by the way of protection, but they were cute and that was what she was going for. She was on her way to meet Trevor for breakfast at a little dive of a café frequented by the senior citizen crowd near the Museum Mile and Central Park. Thankfully, she had a heavyweight, navy wool-blend coat to counteract the freezing temperature. She’d found it at a thrift store. It had been a hidden gem with its stylish double-breasted wide shawl collar and longer, thigh-high length. She pulled at the belt along her waist, cinching it unnecessarily, as if doing so would make her feet warmer. Then, holding her messenger bag tight against her hip, she quickened her pace.
She wanted to spend some time with her boyfriend before she started her new internship. The next months would be nonstop work. Professor Collins wasn’t too forthcoming with all the details, but she assumed it was because he didn’t have them all. It was a new project that came up at the last minute and he had the task of finding four graduate students to fill the slots. Since her graduate program officially pointed towards a Master of Arts in Latin American Studies with an advanced certificate in Museum Studies, she qualified. Plus, she needed the internship for graduation. Collins required a final joint presentation with an assigned partner and he expected her to work on her masters paper.
Stomping the snow from her feet as she came to the café door, Sasha kept her head down and pushed inside. A jiggling of a bell marked her entrance. The light resonance of dining patrons clanking silverware to porcelain plates replaced the sounds of the street. She stood in the doorway, letting her eyes adjust to the dimmer light as she brushed snowflakes off her sleeves.
Seeing Trevor in the back of the restaurant, the only young face visible in the small crowd besides the waitress, she smiled and waved. Even sitting next to a yellowed wall in shadowed light, he emitted charm and grace. His was the kind of face a girl just wanted to grab and kiss. The clean shaven line of his square jaw and high cheekbones framed a straight nose and deliciously dark eyes made even darker by the espresso color of his cashmere v-neck sweater.
Mud from the street marred the floor in a scattered array of footprints. The faded tiles reminded her of an old hospital hallway – yellowed white with tiny beige specks. There was nothing remarkable about the place, nothing but the fact that Trevor waited for her in it.
As she approached, he stood. The effortless gesture made her smile every time. She loved that he was such a gentleman.
‘You look beautiful.’ He kissed her cheek. The chaste act soon slipped into something deeper as he drew his mouth across to her lips. It was the briefest of touches, not lasting long enough to draw attention.
‘Thank you,’ Sasha answered when he drew back. She sat at the small table across from him.
Trevor reached for her hand, rubbing his finger along her palm. ‘I’ve missed you.’
‘It’s only been a few days since we ate at your parents.’
‘I can’t believe I’m a few months from being done with school.’ Trevor changed the subject, without apparent thought. ‘Mother wants me to move into my old room right after I graduate. She thinks it will be a good opportunity to watch my father at work before I officially start at the company and take my rightful place as the Kingston heir.’
‘So, you’ve decided to go into the family business, then?’ Sasha hid her disappointment in his words. Wasn’t it only a few days ago when he said he would never live like his parents? What changed? She glanced from her boyfriend towards the counter, looking for the waitress. The young woman stared at a customer, nodding her head with an air of boredom.
‘There really wasn’t any question as to whether or not I’d work for my father,’ Trevor said. ‘It is the Kingston way, after all, and I am their only son. There is no one else.’
Sasha wasn’t sure what to say in answer to that, so she stated the obvious. ‘I thought you said you didn’t want to enter the family business.’
She tried to hide her frown, as she studied his face. In the past, Trevor always seemed to rebel against his parents’ wishes, like when he chose to attend NYU to be a business major instead of Yale like his father. She always liked the fact that he was his own man, not letting his parents dictate his future.
‘That was before.’ He gave her an adorable, almost boyish look.
‘Before?’
‘Before I had to go find a job.’ He laughed. ‘At least at my father’s company I won’t be starting at the bottom. I can always leave after a few years. Plus, he’s agreed to buy me a new car and I get a healthy beginning salary with benefits.’
‘But you hate the idea of a daily job and you don’t drive,’ Sasha insisted, still stunned by this change. ‘You said you hate dealing with city traffic.’
‘That’s what I needed to talk to you about.’
‘We needed to talk about something? I thought we were just meeting for breakfast.’ Sasha felt sick to her stomach, not liking the guilty way he refused to meet her eyes. What was happening here? Was he joking? Worrying her on purpose? Was she dreaming?
Trevor waved at the waitress, who instantly responded, her expression lighting up as she approached. The woman barely looked at Sasha as Trevor ordered a fat-free cappuccino.
As soon as the woman left, Sasha asked, ‘What do we need to talk about?’
‘I’m moving to Switzerland.’
‘What?’ Sasha gasped, stiffening in her chair. Her eyes scanned the table, hoping this was some sort of elaborate joke. ‘You mean you’re moving after graduation?’ Her voice had raised an octave and she cleared her throat. ‘You’ve always talked about going to Europe after graduation.’
‘I’m leaving tonight.’ He leaned back in his chair, turning his charming smile onto the waitress as she dropped off the drink he ordered for Sasha.