Page 4 of Heartstruck at Dawn
He meant William, of course, unaware of my current situation with Caleb. Thomas could ask anything he wanted, as he always did, but I was done explaining myself. I kept quiet.Let him think whatever he wants to think.
“He’s going to chew you up and spit you out. You know that, right?” He lowered his chin and stared into my eyes.
Wow.Okay.
My eyebrows flew up with shock. Thomas didn’t know that I wasn’t even getting the chance to get to thechewingpart with William, so to speak. But he didn’t need to know anything else about me.
“Will he?” I taunted him. Probably not the best thing to do, but that right there was what I meant about Thomas letting his true colors shine brightly. His B-side.
“I’ll never give up on you, Billie. You need to understand that.” He reached out for my hand, but I recoiled away from his touch. It was dangerous. I knew that much. His touch, his lips, his words. The situation was proving to be more challenging than I thought.
“I wish you didn’t have to make this any more difficult,” I said to him.
He stood up with a huff and marched toward the front door. I followed Thomas, careful not to catch up with him but close enough to make sure he would leave.
As he passed through the foyer, he kicked the Matisse he bought for me at the MoMA. It was leaning against the wall. He then stuck a hand out and dramatically pushed the flowers off the table, making the vase crash on the floor into a million pieces.
There he goes.
I was sure he would besorryby the end of the day, but I wouldn’t be there to hear his apology anymore.
He opened the door and let it bang against the door’s bumper, leaving it wide open as he stepped out of the apartment. Glass shards surrounded my bare feet. It was best not to move an inch. Aaron reached out for Thomas’s arm, but he violently shoved it away.
“Don’t fucking touch me, Aaron,” he snapped back at him and stormed out through the emergency exit. An excellent choice. It would’ve been too awkward for him to wait for the elevator to come up after the little scene he’d just made.
David walked inside my apartment, picked me up, and carried me to the living room. He then asked me to stay put.
I swear that if anyone had told me that the actor was Thomas and not William, I’d believed them in a heartbeat. He was dramatic as fuck.
August 28, 2009
BEING OFFICIALLY FREEfrom my toxic relationship with Thomas was liberating. It was as if I’d just arrived from Paris—hopeful again. Suddenly I had time for my friends. I was in a better mood, eating better, and overall feeling happier.
The fall term at Parsons was starting soon, and Nolan and I had signed up for all our classes together. School had proven to help keep my mind off things, and I definitely enjoyed it. Having done so well on our final presentation with the Sagaponack photoshoot was encouraging too. Lily was stunning in every photograph we took. Some of our classmates were really impressed when they saw it was actually her.
Lily loved the copies I printed out of the best photos we shot at Sagaponack. I gave them to her before she went away for work. She told me it gets hectic for her right after the summer with Fashion Week. She was gone most of the time—constantly traveling and working like crazy.
We remained close friends and texted often but never talked about William, of course. She kept asking me how I was doing all the time, but my answer was always the same:I’m doing great!
It was the truth. I was feeling … pretty good.
CJ and Nina were glad to see me doing better without Thomas but knew nothing of what had gone down with William. I’d also kept the Caleb situation all to myself.
They were both expecting me for lunch, and Caleb came up to my apartment to check up on me. I was getting ready and listening to a playlist my father asked me to put together for him when he knocked on my door.
“Mr. Cohen,” I said as a joke, pulling my head out the door, looking over his shoulders to check if he was alone. Since apartment 9B was not occupied, there wasn’t much movement on my floor to worry about. So I grabbed his hand and pulled him inside. “I’m almost ready, okay? I’ll be right back.”
Caleb waltzed into the foyer, and I knew it was hard for him to do so as a guest. The awkwardness was plastered on his face. I could tell that the dynamic we had of blurring the lines was still challenging for him. Even though we weren’t dating or in a formal relationship, he had opened himself to me about his feelings.
Every time we tried to find a space to talk or meet in private, it felt like sneaking around. As if we were doing something that we weren’t supposed to be doing. And I didn’t like the feeling.
We weren’t too crazy to feel that way because if my father found out about Caleb’s intentions with me (and mine too), I’m sure he’d sent him back to Tel Aviv in a jiffy. We didn’t want that.Nope.
I walked out of my room and saw Caleb standing stiff as a starched collar, my music playing in the background. He hadn’t dared walk any further into my apartment. He didn’t know how to make himself comfortable here.
I stood in front of the foyer table, making sure I had everything I needed in my purse. It was funny to see Caleb fidgeting with his hands. He didn’t seem to know what to do with them. He kept placing them inside his pants pockets, pulling them out again, rubbing his forehead, then his neck, and then they inevitably went into a loose fist in front of him—his bodyguard stance.
He couldn’t help it.
