These Are the Moments (17 page)

Chapter 44

Then

The point of boys in college was nothing serious. Boys being the operative word. Wendy dated, except she couldn’t really call that dating, could she? Wendy talked. Wendy hung out. But no one had actually asked her
on a date
.

The boys were as most college boys were. They wanted to collect girls, to add them up and rate them, to use and reuse them.
This is okay
, she thought. This was just college, not real life, not anything that would mean anything in the long run.

But try as she might, Wendy could not detach. Take Ben, for example.

Ben and Wendy hung out, several times, drunkenly mostly. Ben was the type of guy that looked Boy Next Door, but bragged Two Girls in One Night. It was an extremely confusing combination.

One night, Ben took Wendy home and didn’t leave. In the dark on the pleather couch, Ben tried to take off her shirt mid-makeout.

I am cool with this
, Wendy told herself.
I am totally comfortable with this.

Then Ben tried to grab at her bra hook, then the button of her jeans, then her zipper. In fact, Ben tried to grab everything all at once.

This is okay. This is normal. You are not a prude.

Wendy stopped him. “I can’t . . . I’m sorry.”

He tried to be cool about it, working really hard to be one of those guys who acted cool about this kind of thing. “Okay, sure. No pressure.”

Ben didn’t touch her the rest of the night. He slept on the couch and was nowhere to be found by morning, so really, she couldn’t be sure if he’d slept over at all. Ben didn’t text her the next week.

A few weeks later, she spotted him at a bar, arm in arm, tongue to tongue with a dirty blonde Alpha something.

She waved. No hard feelings. Really, no feelings at all.

The truth was that Wendy wasn’t the casual kind of girl, especially when it came to sex. Even if she didn’t go to church every week and didn’t go on retreats anymore, she couldn’t give up the part of her that had told Simon, “I want to wait.”

They used to imagine what their first time would be like. She imagined it at home in her room, him sneaking up the stairs, with rain streaming down the windows. He just imagined it being with her.

After all of the almost boys burned their wicks, Reese and Wendy would slump into their couch and eat stale popcorn.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Wendy said.

“You expect too much. The less you expect, the less disappointed you’ll be,” Reese said.

“That’s a terrible philosophy. That’s like saying:
Don’t study. If you pass then, what a pleasant surprise
.”

Reese shrugged and sipped at her soda. “What do you want from boys in bars, Wendy? A ring?”

“Not a ring. Not even a date, necessarily. I really don’t know. I want it to be okay that I don’t want to do things I don’t want to do.”

“It is okay. You’re just going to weed out bar boys really fast, which frankly, is probably a good thing.”

“Why was this so much
easier
in high school?” Wendy sighed.

“Because boys hadn’t fully figured out their penises yet.”

“Gross.”

“Truth.”

Then they sat there a bit, trashing boys and wishing for boyfriends all at the same time.

“Do you think about Simon?” Reese asked.

Simon hadn’t waited.

That’s what cut the deepest.

When she found out he’d slept with Sarah, she felt like he’d taken her heart and squeezed it dry. Not only had he not waited, but he’d given himself away. Something he knew he couldn’t take back.

They couldn’t go back.

Wendy simply said, “More often than I want to.”

Then they opened up a bottle of wine and fell asleep. And all the while, Wendy would feel Simon, like a breath on her shoulder, so close that she knew if she looked back for just a second, he’d be standing there. Waiting.

Chapter 45

Now

He’d been standing only rows away.

That’s what Wendy thought about as she walked into her house.

The Christmas tree rose all the way to the ceiling, making the whole house smell evergreen. Coming home from Mass, Wendy unzipped her dress before reaching the top of the stairs, climbing into her Christmas pajamas, a set of flannels with a gingerbread-man print. She threw her hair up into a scrunchie, and slid her feet into an old pair of slippers.

She was shaken.

At Mass, Simon had sat a mere three rows ahead of her, three rows that might as well have been three syllables.
Hi Simon
. That’s how close she felt.

But they didn’t speak to each other. Hell, they barely acknowledged each other. In their brief moment of eye contact, as Wendy walked back from Communion, he broke it so quickly that she was shocked his neck didn’t snap.

Just as well.

Now, Wendy brushed her teeth, thinking a million things at once, wondering why she was thinking anything about it at all.

Her phone buzzed on the counter. She didn’t even have to pick it up to know who it was.

“Merry Christmas,” he texted.

“Merry Christmas to you, too,” she answered, spitting into the sink.

“Didn’t expect to see you tonight. Don’t you normally go to Midnight Mass?”

He
hadn’t expected
her?
She didn’t think Simon would put himself through the whole church charade anymore. He looked at God the way you look at a tire on the highway, like something waiting to wreck you.

“Sometimes,” she said. “But not as much in the past couple of years.”

You know, the years you haven’t been here.

“Cool. God, it’s so weird being home. I think my mom forgets I’m not seventeen anymore. How do you deal?”

Mom’s voice called up the stairs. “Girls! Come down and watch
It’s a Wonderful Life
with me. I’ll let y’all each open one present.”

Wendy smiled. She loved Christmas. She loved being home with her family and keeping traditions. There was something nice about having a constant in her life, having something she knew would always be there, happening year after year.

“It’s not bad,” Wendy texted back. “I love my family.”

“I know,” he said. “But don’t you just want to get away sometimes?”

Yes. She did.

Downstairs, a fire burned in the brick fireplace. Dad tended to it in his plaid pajama bottoms, his eyes half open.

Wendy laughed. “Tired, Dad?”

He nodded and made a groan, waving a hand in the air as he headed off to bed.

Mom and Claudia curled together on the couch, beneath a pile of blankets.

“Wait wait wait!” Claudia said. “Put the movie in.”

“Y’all are so lazy,” Wendy said, slipping the DVD into the player.

“But we love youuuu,” Mom said with a teasing grin.

The movie started to play as Wendy dimmed the lights. She situated herself on the couch between Mom and Claudia, letting her head fall on her Mom’s legs.

She texted Simon. “I love being home. I love my family. I can’t picture living anywhere else.”

“Well, you’ve got a really good one, that’s for sure. How’s Claudia? Your mom? Is your dad still hunting? Man. I miss them.”

Wendy felt a nerve pinch in her side. Her family had been like a family to Simon. How many birthday dinners had she taken him to? How many times had he picked Claudia and her up from school? Of course he missed them. He’d lost everyone at once.

“They’re all good. Mostly. Claudia applied to college, so she’s just waiting to hear back.”

“Geez. I remember when it was me. I think your Mom and I had about ten talks about whether or not you and I could make it. It’s crazy how life works.”

Wendy told herself to tread lightly into this conversation. She didn’t trust nostalgic Simon. He was a wildcard. “Yeah, life sure is crazy.”

“Do you think if we’d stayed together, that we would have made it? Through all my traveling and the longish distance?”

Her heart knotted around itself. Why was he asking her this? When she thought about the last time they were together, she remembered two people in love, in an actual, real-life relationship. It hadn’t been like when they were kids. It had a future.

“Yes,” she said, “I think if things had been a bit different, we would have worked out.”

“Me too,” he said. “Do you ever wonder why we’ve never got it right?”

She excused herself to get a glass of water. In the kitchen, she paced quietly back and forth, her phone like a time bomb in her palms. On the fridge, Vivian’s engagement announcement loomed over her, like a giant
eff you, Wendy
. She answered, “Of course, I do.”

“I think we wanted different things,” he said. “I think that we were both so strong willed that we could never let the other one win. We could never compromise. And the timing. God, the timing was the worst.”

Wanted different things?
Like what?
He wasn’t wrong about the timing. But now, all of it seemed like an excuse. A way to tell themselves it wasn’t their fault.

“Maybe,” she said. “Maybe some things just aren’t meant to work out. No matter how much you want them to.”

Wendy and Claudia fell asleep on the couch.

“Merry Christmas,” Mom whispered. “Time for bed.”

As they climbed the stairs, Claudia said, “I want to give you your present.”

“Thanks,” Wendy said, “but you can just give it to me in the morning.”

“No,” Claudia said. “I don’t want Mom and Dad to see.”

Wendy must have looked as confused as she felt. “Okay.”

Claudia followed Wendy into her room with a perfectly wrapped present, topped with a pink bow.

“Merry Christmas,” Claudia said. “See you in the morning.”

Claudia closed the door behind her and Wendy crawled into bed. She carefully opened the present, slipping the bow off the box intact. Inside the box, there was an envelope and a folded stack of papers.

She opened the envelope first. When she flipped open the card inside, a stack of twenties fell out.

“Woah,” Wendy said out loud.

She read the note. “It’s not much, but it’s a start. You always said you wanted Italy. Now, you can have it. Love you, Claudia.”

Unfolding the stack of paper, Wendy read the headline, “New Orleans University Fine Arts Study Abroad Program,” and flipped through the printed-out information.

May 1st to August 15th of this year.

Claudia was offering her a way out.

Chapter 46

Then

I
t was a sorority that didn’t feel much like a sorority at all, which was probably why the three of them joined. Wendy had rushed because she wanted experience. She wanted to meet people and attend things and immerse herself in the full-time college routine. Reese had joined because Wendy made her do it. And Vivian? Well, she was always sorority bound.

Delta Alpha Zeta welcomed a melting pot of girls: trendy girls and hipster girls, prom queens and good girls. Even three sophomores who didn’t have a clue what they were doing. But still, they were treated like shiny new toys, showered in gifts and dragged out to parties.

This was what an exchange felt like. Girls meeting up with guys, all dressed to some crazy theme, this one in particular being a Hoedown, complete with short shorts and tank tops. And those were just the guys.

“Do you want something?” Wendy’s assigned mentor, aka her Bug Buddy, asked. The Deltas’ mascot was a lady bug, and their big-sisters-in-training kindly called Bug Buddies.

“Umm, a water?”

“A water? With what?” the Bug Buddy asked.

“Vodka,” Reese chimed in for her.

The Bug Buddy shimmied over to the bar. Wendy said, “I don’t need alcohol.”

“Yes, but we would like you to have it. It’s more fun that way.”

Vivian chewed on her fingernail. “I think I lost my Bug Buddy. Will one of y’all’s adopt me?”

“Not mine,” Reese said. “She’s cool. I don’t want you to distract her from picking me as her Little Sis.”

“You can have mine,” Wendy said.

“Share, you mean?” Vivian asked.

Wendy nodded. “Sure.”

The fraternity, Pi Gamma Rho, was full of rough-looking farmer boys, and not just because of the costumes. They were muscly and tanned, with beards and cans of dip in their pockets. Every last one of them looked prepared to wrestle a pig or shoot down a deer on command.

It was . . . different.

The Bug Buddy came back with three drinks. “Oh, I’m sorry, Vivian. Did you want something?”

She didn’t, but Wendy could tell she liked being asked.

Up next was the endless round of introductions. The girls met boys, and more sisters, a term Wendy thought stupid.

The Bug Buddy dragged the girls up to a group of Executive Council members. The peak of the sorority hierarchy. They were the ones with the polished nails and designer dresses. They were the ones who made the sisterly world go round.

“Vivian, Reese, Wendy, meet the EC,” the Bug Buddy said.

One by one, she introduced them.

“Haley, our president.” Perfectly symmetrical face.

“Allison, our vice president.” Tall, leggy and brazen.

“Lizzie, our treasurer.” Uncannily familiar.

Where did Wendy know that face from?
That smile behind the smile. She knew this girl, but she had absolutely no idea how.

“Nice to meet you,” Lizzie said, her voice like butter melting.

And Reese was the one to say it. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

“Umm, I’m not sure,” Lizzie said. “Did you go to St. Mary’s?”

A New Orleans school. Reese shook her head. “No. Did you ever come to the Northshore?”

Lizzie shook her head. “A retreat maybe?”

Ding ding ding.

“Our freshman year, yeah,” Wendy said. “You wouldn’t have gone to that one.”

Lizzie pieced it together, just as Wendy was. “Oh, I went the year before. Let’s see. Do you know Simon Guidry?”

And like a ghost, he was haunting around her again.

There was something about the way she said it, directly to Wendy, that made her realize that Lizzie knew. Lizzie just wanted to hear her say it out loud. To read her as she spoke the words.

Wendy heard Vivian catch the breath in her throat.

Wendy went to say something, but Reese interjected, “Yes. We know him.”

And Lizzie grinned. “Small world.”

“The smallest,” Reese said.

They took a bathroom break. Wendy dug her phone out of her purse and hopped on Facebook. Lizzie Morgan. Class of ’07. Mutual friends: 110. Then Wendy went over to Simon’s page, and scrolled through.

There was some kind of memory sitting back in her head. Something that wasn’t clicking yet.

She flipped back through time. 2010. 2009. 2008.

2007. The year he graduated.

There, a post from Lizzie Morgan: “Had a blast at the college tour! We all need to get together soon. Don’t forget to stay awesome. XOXO.”

And another: “So I saw a sloth at the zoo today and thought of you. Text me!”

And another: “You decided on LSU? Really? See you next year!”

Wendy could feel it sinking into her skin. Of course. Lizzie, among a horde of other girls, was the heart behind so many epic matches between Wendy and Simon. The
she’s just a friend
talks. The
she doesn’t see me that way
rebuttals.

And there she stood, in the flesh, knowing full well exactly what was going on.

Yes.

Lizzie Morgan was around, and undoubtedly, Simon was nearby.