Page 33 of Gray Area

“Because I want to own a business,” Vivian answers, spooning some of the whipped cream in her mouth and then licking the spoon as she looks at me. She has no idea what she is doing—at least I don’t think she does—but she is going to kill me.

I look down at my own coffee and take a sip as I readjust myself in a way that I hope is covert. “What kind of business?” I ask, my voice sounding a bit higher pitched to my ears.

Vivian shrugs. She’s relaxed now, enjoying her drink, and she’s being more open. “I don’t really know, to be honest. I just know I want to be in charge of my future, and I figure the best way to do that is to have my own business.” As she responds, she digs her spoon into the piled high whipped cream and scoops a big amount into her mouth. “Should we talk about the project?”

I honestly don’t hear what she says, but I need her to keep talking so she doesn’t keep putting the whipped cream in her mouth and licking the spoon. If she keeps doing that I may come in my jeans, something that hasn’t ever happened to me,and I really don’t want tonight to be the first time. So instead of asking her to repeat her question, I ask my own. “What’s in your backpack?”

“A lot of books,” she replies without missing a beat. It must be her go-to response, I muse. “So about the project,” she says, her relaxed presence from seconds earlier gone, broken with my backpack question. “I am thinking that maybe we should look at it from a different perspective.” She then shares her ideas, and I listen intently, sipping my coffee. “What do you think?”

“I like it. I think it will help us show the topic in a way that can be appreciated by all,” I tell her, and it’s the truth. I hadn’t had a lot of time to think about our next step, but I like all she has come up with.

“Great,” she says with a small smile on her lips. “How do you want to divide everything up?”

“Whatever part you want to take, go ahead, and I will do the other half. But it needs to be equal; this is a group project,” I remind her. I get the feeling she is one of those people who likes to just handle it all to make sure it is done right and then slap everyone else’s name on it. I don’t rock that way. If I sign up for something, I take on what I need to. And the fact that people may have taken advantage of her nature in this pisses me off.

My phone starts to light up on the table, and multiple texts start to come through in rapid fire. “Shit,” I say as I pick it up and start reading through everything that is being sent to me.

“Everything okay?” Vivian asks, her face full of concern.

Nope, not even close to okay. I look at her. “I have to go,” I say and without another word get up and walk out the door, leaving Vivian staring behind me.

Chapter 16

VIVIAN

Istare at the door he just exited with my mouth open. He literally just got up and left me, without even a goodbye. I guess I could be grateful that he told me that he had to go, I muse sarcastically. Maybe he has an emergency, a voice down deep tells me, but any normal person would have said goodbye at least.

And just when I am thinking he is an okay guy.

I’m tempted to abandon my hot chocolate on the table and leave as quickly as he did, but my drink is rich and delicious, and it isn’t the poor shop person’s fault I have just been jilted. So instead, I pick up my cup and Declan’s, bringing his to the counter, and I ask for the person to dispose of it for him. Then I leave with my hot chocolate and enjoy it on my bus ride home.

As much as I try to calm myself down, I am totally unsuccessful. I try to ignore Declan’s actions, but the more I replay his crazy departure in my head the more pissed off I get. We hadn’t even gotten to split up the details of our project. I guess now I am just supposed to email it to him, since that is the only way I have to communicate with him between now and our next class.

I get irritated too when I realize that he kept directing questions at me, just asking about me.Because he probably wanted to get to know you, my romantic subconscious tells me. But I ignore her. Because why would he want to get to know me? He’s seen where I live, and he’s seen how I clearly don’t have any money or the means to give myself a better life. And I vomited all over him. Why would he be interested in someone like me?

The bus pulls up to my stop and I get off and look at my building. It’s horrible, falling apart, but it is the only place that I found that was at the price point Bailey and I could afford. And it is better than most of the places my mother had for me growing up.

I’m not ashamed of who I am or where I came from; it has made me stronger. But maybe Declan is ashamed. Maybe that is why he didn’t give me a proper goodbye when he left me. Maybe he realized I’m not worth the effort.

Well, screw him.

I go inside and set myself up at the thrift store card table we have and get to work on the project. If he wants to blow school off, then whatever, but I don’t have that luxury. And as far as I am concerned, his high and mighty “the work needs to be equal” speech just before he took off is a bunch of bullshit. So I’m not waiting for him to get this stuff done. That is just an excuse. I think about my mantra and mutter it to myself. “No excuses, Viv.”

I am in charge of my future, I remind myself. And I need to forget about Declan and get down to business.

Chapter 17

DECLAN

Irun back across campus to my car, then drive home like a maniac. I pull in and see my brothers’ cars are also there.

I hustle inside and find my dad lying on a couch with an ice pack to his head. “What happened?” I demand the second I enter.

Slade shrugs, looking as if he has just arrived at the spot moments before me. Axel just looks at me, communicating nothing, and my father looks pale and irritated.

“Dad fell!” Roman announces, in a way only a ten-year-old who has always been the center of attention can. “He was sitting with me and we were talking about my school project that I have coming up and how I wanted to do it on Palmer Lexington Industries, then he got up to get the beeping in the kitchen and he fell!” he finishes off dramatically.

Roman, while excited to tell his tale, is also wide-eyed and nervous. “He was not talking for a long time, so I grabbed his phone and texted you guys,” he says, looking around at us for some sort of response.

---