I nod, my throat too tight to speak. “I’ll stop,” I breathe out again.
“You’ll stop?” She holds her stomach, and I wonder if she’s going to be sick. “You’ll stop?” she repeats, screeching. “Well, thank you, I so appreciate that, you slime bucket. How often, Russ? How many times did you do it? How many times has this fucking happened?”
Oh, man. “A few,” I whisper meekly.
“A few with Kimmy? Or a few women?” Her eyes look wild, and her hands are waving all over the room.
“Just Kimmy,” I croak. I don’t know if just Kimmy is better or worse.
“I can’t believe you could sleep with me all weekend, even though you’ve been sleeping with someone else.” She covers her mouth and groans. “We don’t even use condoms, you jackass, and you know why? Because I fucking trusted you!”
I’m crumpled on the floor, feeling sick to my stomach. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. But you don’t have to worry. Kimmy and I always used condoms, I swear.”
Her hands are shaking. “Yeah? Did you use condoms when she gave you head? I’ve taught Sex Ed. If you get something from that slut, so help me, I’m going to kill you, do you understand?”
Bile rises in my throat. “I love you,” I say, because I mean it and because I don’t know what else to say.
She kicks me in the thigh. Holy shit. She’s never kicked anyone in her entire life.
She kicks me again. Ouch. Good thing she’s not wearing shoes. “Fuck you!” she screams.
“I love you,” I repeat desperately.
She starts getting into her jeans. “Save it. If you loved me, you wouldn’t have slept with someone else. End of fucking story.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m so sorry. I love you.”
“Too fucking bad.” She opens her suitcase and throws her hair dryer inside.
I have to stop her. “Don’t leave,” I say, sadness welling in my throat. What do I do? I don’t know what to do. I jump up and try to hug her.
She pushes me away and sobs, tears running freely down her cheeks as she finishes getting dressed. “I thought I was going to marry you.” She looks up at me, and her wet eyes look beautiful.
I gently touch her arm. I want to tell her it didn’t mean anything, but I can’t. It did, and I can’t lie to her anymore.
She zips up her bag and shakes her head. “It’s over, Russ. I can’t even look at you. Being in the same room as you makes me want to throw up.”
“Please don’t go,” I whisper. “Don’t leave like this.”
She takes a deep breath and shakes her head. I don’t move. She pushes me out of the way and opens the door.
“Your flight isn’t until tonight,” I say, desperate to make her stay.
She walks out the door and doesn’t look back. And then she’s gone. The hallway is silent. Oh, man. I feel dizzy and lean against the wall. That was so goddamn dramatic. Surreal. I can’t believe what just happened. I go back to my room. Why didn’t I check under the bed? How could I have left that wrapper?
I sit on my bed. Then stand up. Then sit again. A two-hundred-pound weight is pressed against my chest. My head feels like someone is squeezing it.
I lie on my bed and spend the next few hours picking at my face and staring at the ceiling.
kimmy gets lucky
7:30 p.m.
I’m lying in bed staring at the ceiling. I hate him. How could he jerk me around like that? How could he ignore me?
I hate him, I hate him, I hate him.
There’s a knock on the door.
“Not here,” I say. I don’t feel like talking to anyone. It’s not like it’s Russ. He’s too busy with his girlfriend. No time for me. I’m sick of it. So sick of it. He can have his precious Sharon. I don’t care. He can go to hell.
“It’s me,” Russ says.
Huh? What, did he send Sharon on an errand so he could get a quick blow job? “Go away.”
“I need to talk to you.”
“I don’t want to talk to you.” I can be strong.
Pause. “I told Sharon the truth. She left. Can I come in, please?”
What? I scurry off my bed and open the door. He looks sad and disheveled.
He told her. He broke up with her.
He told her. He broke up with her.
I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him inside. He chose me. I can’t believe it. A helium balloon of happiness rises in my chest. I kiss his neck.
He loves me.
I nap and wake up feeling happy. It doesn’t matter that he was a jerk. He realized his mistake and chose me! I turn over and see that he’s staring at the ceiling.
“Do you want me to set the alarm?” I ask. What I’m really asking is, Do you still plan to sneak out?
“What time is class tomorrow?” he asks.
“Ten-thirty.”
“Why don’t we sleep in and get up at ten?”
I fall back asleep, smiling, my head nuzzled in his arms.
When the phone rings the next morning I’m still smiling. I reach across Russ for the phone. The call display says O’Donnel. Oh. My. God. “Hello?”
“Hello, may I please speak with Kimmy Nailer, please?”
Please be yes. Please be yes. Please don’t ruin this perfect morning. Damn you O’Donnel, give me good news. “Speaking,” I say, my voice shaking.
“Hi, Kimmy, this is Claire Moss from HR at O’Donnel. We’re pleased to be offering you a position of summer associate.”
Oh. My. God. Hurray!
“The summer program is ten weeks, beginning June first. Your salary has been set at fifteen hundred dollars a week.”
I can pay back some of my loans! “I accept!”
Russ’s eyes pop open. I give him a thumbs-up and mouth, O’Donnel.
“Wonderful,” Claire says. “The only provision is that you’ll need to maintain a B average in your classes.”
“That won’t be a problem.” Better not be.
“Let me confirm your address,” she says, “and we’ll send you all the necessary paperwork.”
When I hang up, Russ hugs me. “Congrats,” he says. “I’m proud of you.”
He must have gotten in, too, right? “Check your messages,” I urge.
He hesitates, then picks up the phone and dials his voice mail. Two minutes later he smiles.
“I got it, too,” he says, looking dazed.
“Wahoo!” I scream. I don’t believe it. How amazing is this day?
He scoops me up and whirls me like the twister ride at a fair. I bend my knees so they don’t hit the wall.
I can’t believe how good my life just got. He broke up with Sharon. For me. We both got jobs. In New York. Where we’ll be working together all summer. Maybe we can even live together… Maybe I should wait a day or two before bringing that up. Don’t want to push my luck.
We walk to the showers smiling, his arm tightly around me. Two people from another Block spot us. “Morning,” I sing.
“Morning,” they say, eyebrows raised.
I think we’re finally out of the closet.
jamie returns to the zoo
Saturday, February 21, 7:40 p.m.
I walk up the stairs of the Zoo, feeling dazed. It’s only been a week and a half, but it feels like I’ve been gone for months. I hear laughing through the rooms, doors slamming, people walking from one room to another. I wonder if anyone even realized I was gone.
I drop my bags off in my room, and then try to snap out of it. My family will be fine. They don’t need me watching over them. I’ll be back in two weeks to make sure they’re okay.
At least I’m not behind on my assignments. I sent them all in by e-mail. Right now I have to get my life in order. I need to talk to Layla. I knock on her door. I’m not sure what I want to say to her, but I want to see her.
“One second!” she yells. I hear her laughing inside. She opens the door and hugs me. Tight. Maybe she feels the same? “Hi! You’re back! How are you?” The phone is cradled between her ear and neck. “Hon, let me call you back, okay?”