Page 54 of The Worst Kind of Promise
A waiter maneuvers through the three o’clock rush of incoming customers, carrying a tray of sliced fresh bread. Steam swirls like a thin brume from the doughy insides. The outside is crisped to perfection with flour sprinkled over top, and dried rosemary has been baked into the pristine, white craters, bringing an equally tempting scent to my nostrils.
My stomach rumbles angrily, and I press my hand to it, hoping that if I suck on an ice cube long enough, it’ll just shut up.
There’s an elongated pause, then Aeris clears her throat. “So, how’s school going?”
I stuff an ice cube into one side of my cheek. “It’s, uh, it’s fine. Finished finals with straight As, though my stats class was hell to get through. It was my first A-, and the teacher was terrible. Never explained anything, never provided study guides, included information on the midterms that we never learned.”
“A-? That’s impressive, Faye. I got a D in my Food Culture class. And half our grade was based on attendance,” Lila says, flashing a flirtatious smile at the waiter filling up her glass.
“Do you know what you want to do after graduation?” Aeris asks.
I’m going into my junior year in the fall, so the post-graduation questions aren’t new to me. But I hate thinking about them. Adulthood has more rigid schedules, but you have less control over everything. I’m not ready for all of that. The only thing I know for certain is that I’ll work on my teaching credentials after college.
I swallow my melted ice. “Kinda just going with the flow. You know, it’s impossible for kids right out of college to get jobs.” Deflect, Faye. I’d rather not be reminded of the life I have waiting for me back in Pennsylvania.
“You don’t have to know,” Lila chimes in. “Your journey is your journey. No point in rushing through it if you’re headed to the same place in the end.”
Aeris nods. “I didn’t get a job until months later. I actually remember going to all the stores downtown and—”
There’s a scream. A high-pitched, bone-chilling scream. And it’s coming from the blond across from me. I don’t know how I didn’t clock it as soon as it happened, but a passing server must’ve tripped by our table, because the plate he was carrying—which must’ve been Spaghetti Bolognese—is splashed all over Lila’s designer shirt.
I freeze. The whole restaurant freezes. The waiter might’ve shit his pants, who knows.
Lila’s in hysterics as Aeris slowly scoots out of her seat and escorts her to the bathroom. Now, instead of my friends sitting across from me, there’s a mess of tomato sauce and chunky meatballs dripping off the table. Noodles the consistency of puke are sprawled in a brown mush on the floor. Lovely.
Honestly, if nobody was watching the disaster that just took place, I might’ve licked the table clean. I’ve gone from hungry to ravenous in minutes. With a sigh, I dig around in my purse for some sustenance, but then I remember I took my emergency Junior Mints out when I had a late-night cry session the other day. Thanks to Kit. All thanks to Kit.
A few waiters have been deployed to remedy the pasta explosion at the table, and they all scrub furiously like they’ll lose their jobs on the spot if they don’t have the wood looking clean enough to eat off. And once their crew disperses with some mumbled apologies here and there, none other than Kit motherfucking Langley sits down in Aeris’ abandoned seat.
“What are you doing here?” I growl, my headache growing tenfold.
“I needed to talk to you.” He’s dressed in a tank top, delicious tattoos on display, big lips in a slight pout, and just the right amount of perspiration condensing on his hairline.
Hold up. Did he follow me here? Did he place an AirTag on the bottom of my shoe or something? How did he know where I was?
“What, Kit? About what? There’s nothing to talk about.”
I have no idea when the girls are going to get back, but they can’t see me and Kit talking. And Aeris seems like the kind of person who has those Tide to Go sticks on her at all times.
“We have everything to talk about, Faye. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what I said to you at the party. I was out of line. I wasn’t thinking about how my words would affect you. I started spewing anything I could think of to push you away. And none of it was true.Noneof it.”
My teeth nick the skin on my lower lip, and I taste copper. I lean back in my chair with my arms crossed over my chest. “Guilt’s a bitch, isn’t it?”
Kit’s face twists in pain, his jaw clenched, the muscles in his arm wrung impossibly tight. “I know you’re mad,” he mumbles softly, using that same voice someone uses when they’re approaching a cornered dog.
“Mad? I’m crushed. You broke my heart and my trust. You let me open up to you when you were planning on dumping me like one of your conquests.”
“Faye, please. I’m trying here.”
“So I should give you an award because youtriedto apologize to me?”
I don’t know if my heart will ever recover. Sure, it still beats how it was intended, and yes, I can still love with it, but the fissure inside of it will never fully close—will never fully heal.
I’m sorry. I never meant to lead you on, Faye.
Thiswas never going to work.
You were just so blinded by something you could never have.
