Dallas
Britain promised me she’d mail me all my checks from here on out. I can’t go back to that studio again.
I can’t see Evan.
Granted, this is impossible with Evan being in my department. I practically see her every goddamn day of my life, if not only from a distance. She hasn’t texted me or called me. When she passes me in the halls, she looks away. When I hand an assignment back to her in the lecture hall, she takes it without a word.
She knows.
It’s that every second I’m with her, I crave her. I ache for her. And I can’t stop doing this to myself.
To us.
Because it’s turning me into a cheater, and a terrible person.
The second issue in the EPE series is released the day that Tricia comes home. When she walks in the door, she squeals and races to me, jumping into my arms. “Missed you,” she says between kisses. “Missed you, missed you, my Dallas.”
I show her my first check for four grand, more money than I’ve probably ever made in a pay period. I also show her, with reluctance, the new issue. She scans my pool photo shoot with Evan as if she were shopping for socks. “This is your calling,” she tells me. “Screw biology.”
“I quit.”
She drops the magazine and gapes at me, and I pull her to my chest, wrapping her in my arms. “Trust me, it’s for the better.”
She pushes away from me. “How can you say that, Dallas? You’re obviously talented. This could be it!”
“Because I love you and don’t want to be tempted by beautiful women every day of my life.”
“I already told you, Dallas. I trust you.” She’s practically begging me with her eyes.
I shake my head. How do I break it to her that I don’t trust myself? “We’ll talk about this another time.” Solid save. “I have paychecks from EPE that’ll be coming in until the end of summer, most likely. If it’s money you’re worried about…”
“I’m… I’m not,” she says with a small sigh. “I want you to be happy, and if this decision makes you happy, then so be it.
“Thank you,” I take her face in my hands and plant a kiss on her lips.
^^^^
Now that I’ve quit EPE, my fame has become bearable.
I still get the looks, and the whistles (from sorority girls!) and all sort of students asking me to sign their EPE copies, but somehow it’s okay. Maybe because I know now that this isn’t going to last forever—that this is only a phase in my life, I’m willing to accept it. Maybe that’s why Evan isn’t. Maybe she thinks that forever she’ll embody Rylan, and she’s not ready to merge her lives permanently.
I could just be speculating now.
Three weeks after I quit, I’m grading papers in my office with the usual team of grad students when the door opens. I look up to the last face in the world that I’m expecting.
“Evan?”
All heads in the office turn to look at her. She bites her bottom lip and hugs her binder to her chest. She’s dressed in her usual school attire—sweats and glasses, no makeup, her hair pulled up—but somehow she looks different. Smaller.
“I just… I, umm… just wanted to let you know that you were right.”
I furrow my eyebrows, confused.
“I got into Harvard,” she says with a ghost of a smile.
My mouth falls open. “Oh my God. Evan…”
She swallows, her eyes glistening. “Yeah, I know.” Suddenly it’s like she realizes that we’re not the only two in the room. She glances around at the other students. They don’t even know her and are gawking at her success. Even Brad.
“I gotta go,” she says. “Good to see you.”
And before I can respond, she slips from the office, and is gone.
“Damn, Harvard,” says someone. “Who was that?”
“A friend,” I murmur.
“She’s a babe,” Brad says, swiveling in his chair and tossing a Dorito in his mouth. “Kind of looks like Rylan Willow.”
And then he freezes, and his eyes pop out of his head.
Mother. Fucker.
“Dude. Dude. Was that Rylan Willow?”
I keep the straightest goddamn face I can manage. “You think that was Rylan Willow?”
Brad turns to the rest of the grad students. “Did that not look like Rylan Willow?”
There’s some murmuring, but not a firm consensus.
“I can assure you, Brad, Rylan wouldn’t come visit me in the middle of the day. She likes her privacy.”
“What did you say her name was? Evan?”
My pulse pounds in my ears. Brad wears a massive idiotic grin. I say nothing and he drops it, but know that he hasn’t really. He has her name. He knows what she looks like. If he hunts her down and studies her face….
“Rylan Willow…” he whispers with a chuckle.
I pull out my phone and text beneath the desk, I think I just blew your cover.