The Test (7 page)

Sophia stood on the porch, her sharp features
magnified like someone took a sharpie and drew bold strokes around
her angular jaw, acorn-shaped eyes and wide, sweetheart mouth. Her
jet black hair was pulled back with a silk scarf making her look
even fiercer. And annoyed.

She gave Alicia the fakest smile I’ve ever
seen. “Alicia! I didn’t know you’d be here.” She gushed like they
were long, lost pals. She leaned in for a hug and Alicia was stiff
as a plank before she finally gave her a consolation back pat. She
didn’t even bother with a smirk for me. “Cassandra.”

I flinched inwardly like my mother had just
scolded me. I forced my lips to form a semblance of a smile. “Hi
Sophia. Thanks for coming over.”

She stepped into the house, not even waiting
for Alicia to invite her in. “Well after that cryptic email, I had
to come and see what was going on.”

Alicia shot me a pained look behind her back
and I made a mental reminder to tell her how kick ass she was at
least twice a day.

Sophia dropped her purse on the coffee table
unceremoniously and then eased onto the couch. Her onyx eyes shot
between me and Alicia. “I didn’t know this was a group thing.” She
gave Alicia another patronizing grin. “Will Mrs. Reynolds be
joining us as well?”

“Nope,” Alicia answered sweetly. “Just us
girls.”

“Awesome!” she replied, clapping her hands
together. “Well, I have to work at seven, so we should probably get
on with it.”

I chose a seat to the right of the sofa,
close enough that it didn’t look like I was afraid, but out of
choking distance. “So, we, I, uh-” Sophia’s gaze was like hot coals
burning into me, making me forget how to speak coherently.

Alicia jumped in, gesturing toward the
kitchen. “Something to drink?”

“Oh I’m fine thanks,” she answered smoothly,
not even blinking or breaking her hold on me. “You were saying,
Cass?”

I swallowed hard and stole a look at Alicia.
Wasn’t she supposed to be warming her up or at least giving me a
few seconds relief from Sophia’s death stare?

Alicia walked over to where I saw and perched
on the arm of the oversized chair. “We were just talking about my
party when you drove up. You remember my party, right?”

I relaxed as she turned her attention to
Alicia. “I remember its premature end.”

“You’ve taken Dr. Winslow’s biochemistry
course, Soph. The man just doesn’t want you to do anything but
study if you want anything better than a C.”

Sophia was off the scent, laughing as they
reminisced and talked about graduation for a few minutes. Alicia
regained control over the conversation, turning it back to her
dinner party. “So you remember how we were playing truth or
dare?”

Sophia nodded. “More or less.”

“And your truth for Cass was about Blaine
Connolly.”

Sophia’s eyes cut to me for a second before
returning to Alicia. “Yeah…what about it?”

“You’re still stuck on him, huh?” Alicia
shook her head sadly. “It’s a shame that you took your jaded heart
out on Cass.”

I whipped to face Alicia, my mouth falling
open and my heart dropping to my stomach. I thought we were easing
her into it!

“Excuse me?” Sophia snapped.

I think you heard me. You were stalking
Blaine and since he doesn’t want anything to do with you, you
started stalking Cass. I guess you decided that if you couldn’t be
happy, no one would be happy.”

Oh my god
, I thought feeling
lightheaded. This wasn’t happening. Alicia was going rogue.

Sophia was just as shocked, her jaw on the
floor as her gaze volleyed back and forth between me and Alicia.
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Alicia cocked her head toward me, feigning
confusion. “Did I stutter or-?”

“Alicia!” I gasped, wondering if she had
completely lost her mind. Or maybe this was her plan the whole
time—to pretend she wanted to help me and sabotage me when I least
expected it. I turned to Sophia, trying to keep the train from
flying off the rails. “Sophia, let me explain--”

But Sophia shot up, her face bright as a
tomato. “I’m gonna go.”

“Of course you are,” Alicia cut in haughtily.
“The truth is ugly. Just like jealousy.”

I stood up, putting physical distance between
me and Alicia, trying to show her that I had nothing to do with the
vitriol pouring from Alicia in rivers.

“Screw both of you!” Sophia spun toward the
door.

“Sophia-” She was in the foyer, only a few
feet from the door. “Sophia, I love him!”

She stopped like she hit a brick wall and I
just started talking, babbling, trying to get her to
understand.

“I can’t breathe without him, Sophia. Trust
me, I’ve tried. He hurt me once. No, hurt isn’t even the right
word.” Tears flooded my eyes and my voice. “He devastated me. He
ruined me and for a year afterward the very thought of letting
someone in was like a knife in my chest. And when I finally did
date again, I never let anyone that close again.”

Sophia slowly turned, her face stricken,
white as a ghost, but I couldn’t stop until I made her
understand.

“And then he came back, teaching one of my
classes and I was so angry and all the feelings I’d buried came
rushing back. I wanted to hate him, to hurt him. But I couldn’t.
Because I loved him. Because I’m
in
love with him. And it
doesn’t make sense—I know that. But he knows me. He’s possessed me
and he has since the moment we met. I could fight it and believe
that people don’t change, but when I look at him—” My voice cracked
and the tears blurring my view streamed down my face. “He’s the
love of my life. I exist for him, Sophia. And he exists for me.
Please don’t take that away.”

I could have fallen into a heap, physically
and emotionally spent. She was still silent and I was sure she’d
already decided to burn us to the ground and I just gave her the
satisfaction of knowing it affected me. Affected us.

She licked her lips and let out something
that sounded like a sob. I peered at her, thinking I must have
misheard. I was delirious, my mind turning a sound of victory into
one of pain. Of surrender. I glanced over my shoulder and Alicia
was right behind me, a similar surprise on her face.

Sophia pursed her lips and glanced at the
door before focusing on me, her midnight eyes glossy. I couldn’t
believe it. She was about to cry.

“Sophia are you about to-”

She didn’t say a word, turning the door knob
and the waning sunshine filled the foyer. She crushed my hope that
I’d reached her. I was certain she’d give both of us the finger as
she stepped onto the porch, but she paused before the first
step.

“I get it, you know,” she said softly.
“Loving someone so much that common sense goes out the window.”
Sophia gave me the only genuine smile I’d ever seen on her face.
“She was right. I was jealous. At least your guy loves you back.”
She continued down the steps, her hair flapping like a mahogany
cape. “I’ll talk to the Dean.”

I stood in the doorway, numb from the shock.
I watched her climb in her station wagon and putter around the
circular driveway, disappearing in the line of cars on the dusky
road.

Somehow, some way, I got through to her. “Oh
my god,” I said hoarsely. “OH MY GOD!” I started doing the victory
dance, butt shaking and all. I turned around to hug Alicia but
stopped short, my face hardening to stone. “What happened to you in
there? I thought we had a plan!”

“You were about to pass out in fear at the
thought of facing her,” Alicia explained. “If I told you that the
best way to get her to understand was to piss her off and get you
to freak out and speak to her without filter or spin, I’m pretty
sure you never would have left my bedroom.” She smirked. “I lied to
you so you could move her the way you moved me in the library.”

I brought her in for a bone-crushing hug
feeling like I could breathe with the weight off of me, squeezing
my heart.

I really did have the best friend ever.

****

I took a breath and readied my argument. All
day Chance had sent texts more conciliatory than the last,
consigned to losing his job and adamant about his choice to come
clean about our relationship. I had one small victory—he talked to
the dean and successfully moved the meeting to Monday so I still
had two days to make my case.

We belonged together. He already made it
clear that he wouldn’t dismiss the idea of out of state positions.
Where would that leave us? We were still in such a tenuous stage
where distance would just complicate things.

He loved teaching. He said himself that
nothing compared to the high of being in front of a class. He could
have been the wind, living abroad, writing a pretentious book about
his travels and the meaning of life, but he gave it up because he
missed being a teacher. He was meant to inspire. To push. To
challenge.

He just couldn’t go. I wouldn’t let him.

I stood a little taller before knocking, the
hollow sound rippling through me. Chance opened the door just wide
enough to push out into the hall, and then pulled it closed behind
him.

His face was bright and slightly flushed like
he’d just hopped off a treadmill, but unless he did laps in a black
and white checkered shirt and dark blue jeans that fit him snug as
sin, that wasn’t the reason he was acting so strange. My eyes
worked their way back up to his face, noticing he’d even taken care
of the stubble. Suddenly, I was very aware of the fact that I was
wearing an oversized shirt and leggings, underdressed for whatever
he had going on in his apartment.

“Before you say anything—” He reached in his
pocket and pulled out a ball of fabric, holding it out like a medal
as it unraveled. I reached out and touched it. It was soft as
silk.

I gave him a wry smile. “A blindfold?”

“That’s right,” he gave me a wolfish grin
that made my naughty bits snap to life. “And if you want to go in,
you have to wear it.”

I hesitated. “Chance--”

“Scratch that—” He took an end of the
blindfold in both hands. “Whether you want to wear it or not, the
blindfold goes on.”

I put my protests on mute, listening instead
to the roar of desire that wreaked havoc on my worries about my
clothes. What did it matter what I was wearing if it would just end
up in a bundle on the floor?

I stood still, watching the lust flicker
across his face as he bridged the space between us. His hazel eyes
were the last thing I saw as the blindfold hushed my view. I could
still make out the hazy outline of his face, but he doubled it,
turning everything a shade of ebony.

He secured it and then his hands drew down,
raking through my hair and down the curve of my arms until he
clutched my hands.

“Ready?”

I should have felt off, the loss of control
unnerving, but I just held tight to him as he led me into the
apartment. I tried to peek and came up with little other than
shadow. The door closed solidly behind me and I turned my head to
the right, reaching out. He gripped my hand, giving it a squeeze
before returning to the knot that secured the blindfold and
releasing it.

My eyes widened. The room was brightened by
string lights draped around his apartment. My gaze flitted from
surface to surface, not sure what to take in first.

I started at the futon, a familiar red and
white throw spread out on the cushion. It had ‘Someone at Thomas
College Loves Me’ stitched into the fabric. The glass coffee table
was covered with a white linen tablecloth. Two porcelain plates
were piled with Alfredo and from the lingering aroma, he made fresh
bread.

I grinned from ear to ear when I saw that
there was a familiar label on the red wine beside the glasses:
Blackberry Merlot. Chance was a wine snob, waxing lyrical about
smoky flavors and undertones. I’d entertained him until I finally
said the only wine I could tolerate was of the Arbor Mist variety.
It was sacrilegious and he wasn’t convinced until I made him try a
sip and he didn’t burst into flames. He still preferred ‘proper
wine’, but he didn’t trash talk AM after that.

“You actually bought Arbor Mist?” I said,
barely believing my eyes.

“And walked out of there with my head held
high.” He cleared his throat. “It may or may not have been buried
underneath the other groceries.”

“Sounds about right,” I winked. I took a few
steps forward, spying a table tucked away in the corner. “What’s
that?”

“No idea,” he said cryptically, his eyes near
black and shining with excitement. I rushed over like a kid on Xmas
morning, doubly so when I saw the table was lined with a series of
white boxes. They varied in size, small and square, slender and
rectangle, wide and short. The closer I got to the table I heard
low, melodic humming punctuated by sparse instrumentals. He had his
phone plugged into the speakers, a relaxing tune filling my
ears.

“What’s all of this?” I asked. “It’s not my
birthday.”

“You can only get presents on your birthday?”
he smirked.

Unless you’re in the dog house
, I
thought warily. “I’ve forgiven you Chance. You didn’t need to get
me all of this stuff to make sure.”

“This isn’t about that.”

My stomach tumbled. Was this to take away the
sting of our argument or to dull the fact that he could very well
be moving if he got fired? I peered at him suspiciously and his
eyes stripped me down to the point I swear he could see my
thoughts.

“Just open the boxes, Cass,” he said
adamantly.

Nervous but undeniably curious, I took the
first in my hands. It was one of the smaller boxes and it felt
surprisingly light. I ran my hands along the bottom, finding a
small flap. I lifted the top and a smaller, rectangle shaped box
was inside. Fancy gold lettering spelled out the words Ladurée
Paris.