Chapter Twenty-Four
Veronica
Tiffany cursed from across the table, taking her glasses off and rubbing her eyes.
"You okay?"
"Yeah," she sighed. "I'm just not sure I'll be able to get this done before it's due." She had been tapping furiously at her laptop, pausing every so often to swear and delete everything she had just typed.
"Isn't it due next week?"
"With work and my other classes, it's going to be tight. I don't want to swap quality for finishing it fast. I don't know why this is so difficult."
I watched her start over. We were at my place. Sometimes I worked better with a study buddy. Usually, she wasn't so stressed out, though. I figured it was just balancing work and school that was getting to her. It was hard. She had a lot on her plate, and I worried sometimes that she'd hit burnout and never recover. She was writing a paper for one of her economics classes, so it wasn't even one I could look at and help her put together.
"How about starting with something else? Or tackling the easiest part first."
"I should get this out of the way first."
"If you do that, you'll never get to anything else. Do something simpler first. No, you know what? Let's take a break," I announced. I got up and walked into the kitchen. I started on making us both cups of coffee; I knew how Tiffany liked hers. Sweet and white, maybe it would help. She took it gratefully when I came back to the dining room. Her laptop was shut and books closed.
"Better?" I asked as she took a sip."
"Let's see in about ten minutes," she smiled wryly.
"Can you believe the people who come back to school after kids and stuff? Can you imagine parenting and studying at the same time?"
"I don't know where the hell I would start. This is hard enough," she said. "I'm barely keeping it together having a job at the same time."
"You're doing great," I said, smiling at her.
"Maybe it's a good thing I don't have a boyfriend. I wouldn't even have time for him."
"Yeah, if he was needy like a five-year-old and not also a student."
"College relationships are pointless," she said, "no offense. I mean the other ones. Not yours."
"I'm in a relationship?"
"I'd say going on dates and hooking up means you're in a relationship," she said smirking at me.
"I don't know whether we're labeling it."
"You don't have to. The labeling happens whether you like it or not. You're acting like a taken woman already."
"Taken," I scoffed. I had a weird feeling about being taken, especially by Roman. I had been for so long, then suddenly wasn't. I didn't know whether I was comfortable with saying that I was again, no matter how many dates we went on or how many times we slept together.
"Did you guys talk before he left?"
"He came here yesterday to say goodbye."
"He did? That was sweet."
"He was still leaving, though."
"You're really not giving him that?"
"No, I am. I'm just saying. It's getting more and more complicated."
"Complicated in a good way, though, right?"
"It would be good if he didn't have to leave," I said. "I know he has to and he wouldn't if he didn't need to do it, but it still sucks."
"You're falling for him."
"We dated for almost three years."
"You fell for him then and it's happening again now. That's why you're so upset that he's gone."
"No, it isn't," I said defensively. It was. It totally was, but I didn't want to acknowledge it and make it true. She looked at me with the same deep blue eyes her brother had.
"I know he's going to wait for you, Vee, as long as you make him, but you have to see that he means what he says to you."
I was supposed to be the psych major, but it wasn't possible to shrink yourself. I just needed some time. I wasn't blowing him off, and I wasn't lying to him about how I felt. He knew I was unsure about what was happening between us. She still had a point, though, no matter what I felt.
"Have you heard from him?" I asked.
"Yeah, earlier today. He texted." Did he ask about me?
"How is he?"
"Fine. He said everything's going well. He sounded confident about his performance."
"That's good. Right?"
"He's there to impress scouts, so that's very good."
"He really wants this. I hope it works out," I said.
"He's lucky he has you supporting him."
"How can I not? I wish what I felt with him was simple. I want him to be happy, and that means this. Going away for the combine and then probably again to play for whoever signs him. I just feel the closer we get, the worse it'll be when we have to separate again."
"You have to trust him, Vee. Talk to him. He loves you, and he isn't going to do anything that's going to fuck things up between you."
"You're right," I said, admitting it to myself at the same time. I could panic and keep trying to deny that it was true, or I could accept it. It shouldn't have been this difficult opening up to someone who I had trusted and had a history with already. I could only say it was because of what he had done to me for so long. Part of it was just me, not giving as much as I was getting from him.
"He's really serious, Vee. I know I'm biased because you're my best friend and he's my brother, but you guys are good together," she said shrugging.
"I know," I agreed, sighing.
"Oh, and if you were wondering, yeah. He did ask about you. He asked me to tell him how you were. I told him to ask you himself. He's going to call."
"Don't tell me that. I'm gonna expect it now," I said.
"Well, you won't have to wait too long."
Eventually, Tiff had to leave for work. I ended up leaving to go to the grocery store. What did I feel like having tonight, I thought, filling the shelves of my fridge with produce. I had made the frittata the day before to clean the veggie box out and since Roman had joined me for breakfast, I didn’t have any leftover. That was the one drawback of living on your own and cooking for yourself: leftovers. They were good when you needed something fast and convenient, but if you overshot how much rice you needed to make risotto by accident, you were eating it for the next three days.
The mushrooms looked good. I thought through what I would need to cook them into a sauce that I could put over pasta. Roasting them with some sprouts, carrots, and peppers sounded good, too. I had never tried making mushroom soup at home before, I could do that. I could freeze soup and making it would justify the bread I had gotten... But it was summer, I couldn't eat soup. I decided to throw them in the oven with the peppers and sprouts. The leftovers could go in a salad, sandwich, or quiche.
Midway through prep, a call came through on my phone, hiding the recipe screen. The name stopped me for a second: it was Sean. I almost laughed. Sean? When had we last talked? Two weeks ago? Why was he calling me now? If memory served, the last thing he had said to me was an ultimatum. I give him one good reason to keep going out with me or he wouldn't anymore, like I was up for elimination on America's Next Top Model or something.
I let it keep ringing, I didn't even feel bad when he called back and I did it again. In my defense, I was busy, I didn't want to pick my phone up while I was cooking, but more than that...fuck that guy.
Was he still waiting on that reason to date him, instead of the new woman he met? I didn't have one, there was his answer. I had Roman. Putting it so black and white made my spine tingle. I had him. Why the hell would I waste time with someone who needed me to convince him to date me?
Why the hell would I waste time with Sean anymore anyway? He was awful. I'd never get any of the time we spent together back. He couldn't communicate; he was terse and emotionally unintelligent. His relationship practices and mine didn't mesh. I had Roman and whatever little interest I had had in Sean was gone.
I ate dinner in front of the television before heading to bed. I heard my phone vibrate again. Please don't be Sean again, I thought. Roman's name flashed on my screen instead. My excitement ticked up slightly. He had said he would call me, I thought. The fact that I had halfway been expecting it didn't mean I wasn't excited that he had actually done what he said.
"Hello?" I said, picking up.
"Hey, babe," he said over the phone. I smiled, rolling onto my side and tucking the phone between my ear and the pillow. The word Tiffany had used flashed through my mind again. Taken.
"Hi. How did it go today?"
"Alright. How was your day?"
"Just alright?"
"It was a bunch of sweaty guys trying to impress the men in suits," he said lightly. "Think of watching a practice session, but this one's in a huge stadium and not that interesting unless you know what's supposed to be happening."
"It doesn't sound very fun."
"It's not," he said. "It's work."
"But you're having a good time?"
"Good enough, I guess. It's good to hear you." I smiled.
"It's good to hear from you, too. I was a little scared you wouldn't be able to get in touch."
"I said that I would," he said simply. I couldn't imagine what he was describing very well, but I knew it was a big deal. It made me feel special that he wanted to keep in contact with me when he was so busy.
"What about the city? Is it nice?"
"Oh, you'd love Houston," he said.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. If you weren't in class I would have asked you to come with me." I took a deep breath.
"Maybe next time?" I said hopefully.
"Yeah...maybe next time." I smiled at that. It wasn't a promise or anything, but it was the way we always talked in the past about the places we wanted to see together. "I can't wait to get back. I fly in Friday. What are you doing then?"
"I don't have anything planned. Why? Do you need a ride from the airport?"
"No," he laughed, "I want to take you out."
"The night you get back? Won't you be tired?"
"Are you blowing me off, Ron?" I could hear the smile in his voice.
"No. I'm excited to have you back. I'm sort of mad I let you go."
"Four more days. You can last that long, can't you?"
"Just because I can doesn't mean I want to," I said. "I got spoiled having you back in town again."
"I'll make it up to you, starting with dinner when I get back." I'm going to need more than just dinner, I thought. I hadn't expected to miss him so much. I had just had breakfast with him yesterday morning and here I was, wishing I wasn't falling asleep alone tonight.
"I'm looking forward to it," I told him. I wanted to tell him that I loved him, but it scared me. I wasn't sure that I should have been ,and I didn't know whether I was allowed to feel safe being that vulnerable. Years together before we split said that I could, but I just wasn't ready yet. If I said I loved him, it meant I was letting him back in, all the way.
"I'm going to miss you," I said quietly, giving him that since I couldn't say the other thing.
"I'm going to miss you, too. I'll call you tomorrow."
"I'd like that," I said, smiling. We said goodnight, and I ended the call. When would it end? Would I stop feeling like this was new and exciting again? I loved the routines and comfort we used to have, but part of me didn't want this dating and discovery phase to end. I put my phone away and got ready to fall asleep. The phone call had been just what I needed.
.