It was the right thing to do.

There was no world where Ethan and I would ever work together.  I had responsibilities to my family and to my social circles.  I couldn’t run off and play with some boy just because he was attractive and gave me a ride.  On his bicycle.

“That’s exactly why it would never work.”

I had to represent the family at my stepmother’s luncheon tomorrow, and I hadn’t even chosen an outfit.  I had to finish my last few weeks of school.  I couldn’t allow myself to be distracted by something as ridiculous as a kid covered in tattoos and sporting a man-bun.  Ending it before things went too far was the only polite way to handle it.  It was absolutely, unequivocally the right thing to do.

Then why was I crying?

I heard my phone ring.  I had a pretty good idea who it might be, so I refused to look at the screen as I let myself into my apartment and headed for the bedroom.  The phone dinged with a voice message, and I quickly grabbed it from my purse to silence it.

In the bathroom, I leaned against the counter for a moment before I washed the tears from my eyes and the makeup off my face.  I had no idea why I was so upset.  Two days ago, I didn’t even know of Ethan’s existence.  I could hardly be missing him now.

I was being ridiculous.

My phone buzzed.  I swallowed hard and went back to my bedroom to change out of my clothes, ignoring the continued phone noises.  Before I dropped into bed, I turned the phone off completely.

I woke late the next morning.  With my phone turned off, there was no alarm to wake me on time, and I had to rush to get ready for my stepmother’s Sunday luncheon.  The outfit I chose was one I had worn to a luncheon earlier in the spring, and I hoped no one would notice the repeat in attire.

Fat chance.

“Hello, my darling.”  Vanessa greeted me in her usual way as I walked into the house.  “Didn’t you wear that dress back in March?”

“Hi, Vanessa.”  I sighed.  “Yes, I was running a little late today.  I’ve been busy with school and haven’t had time for shopping.”

“You could have at least put your hair up,” she said.  She clicked her tongue.  “You look like you spent the night with a boy, and we don’t want those sorts of rumors, do we?”

“I’m not a child, Vanessa.  I think it’s okay for me to date at this point.”

“Lemonade on the porch,” she said as she crossed her arms over her chest.  “That’s how it was done when I was a girl.”

I wasn’t about to argue with her about how outdated her values on the subject of dating were in this century.  I’d had all those conversations in high school, which is why I didn’t even start dating until I was in college.

“Sorry about the outfit,” I said, dodging the dating comment.  “I really was just a bit rushed this morning.”

“There’s always time to look your best, my darling,” Vanessa said.  She twirled a strand of pearls between two fingers as she looked me up and down.  “Let’s make sure we plan a little better for the next one, yes?”

“Of course,” I said.  “Sorry, Vanessa.”

“Go upstairs and fix your hair, at the very least,” she said.  “And do be sure to watch your language.  Remind your friends as well.”

As stepmothers go, Vanessa could have been a lot worse.  She treated my father well and had yet to cheat on him like the last one did.  Vanessa was my father’s third wife, and they were married when I was in the eighth grade.  It was good to have another woman around when I was in my young teens.  My own mother spent all her time in Europe and simply couldn’t be bothered.  If she happened to remember, I would get a call on my birthday.

Vanessa did have quite the beef against swearing in public.  She simply wouldn’t stand for it, not ever from my father.  When I was in high school, the first fight I ever heard them have was about my father’s use of language on the telephone.  He’d cursed at the cable company’s tech support, and Vanessa had a complete fit about his manners.  Presley found herself banned from Sunday luncheons for a full month due to her potty mouth.

After pinning my hair up, I helped Vanessa direct the caterers to the tables in the back yard and then tied a few balloons to the chairs.  This Sunday’s theme was a Hawaiian luau, complete with leis for the guests, a ukulele player, and a pig roast.

“I’ve been trying to call you all weekend!”  Presley appeared from the side of the house and poked me in the arm.

“Sorry,” I said.  “My phone’s been off.”

“Whatever for?”

“I needed some peace and quiet,” I said with a shrug.  “I do have finals, you know.”

“Bullshit.”  Presley narrowed her eyes at me.  “You never turn off your phone.  The last time you turned off your phone was when you and Isaac broke up.”

I debated telling Presley about Ethan but quickly dismissed the idea.  Much of the problem with Ethan had to do with how my friends would react, and though I loved her, Presley could be the worst of the bunch when it came to judging others.  She defined everyone by who they were related to, who they hung out with, and who they were wearing.

“Didn’t you wear that dress here before?”

Right on cue.

“Yeah.  Vanessa already gave me the lecture.”  I rolled my eyes but was secretly glad the conversation had moved away from my lack of response last night.  “We should have looked for something when we were shopping for my interview outfit, but I wasn’t thinking that far ahead.”

“You need to get your shit together,” Presley said.  “Stop fussing about exams.  You already have a job you don’t need.”

“Not all of us care to spend the rest of our lives on an island.”

“All the sane ones do.  Turn your damn phone back on.”

“You better watch your mouth,” I said as I powered on my phone, “or I won’t be the only one getting a Vanessa lecture today.”

“She loves me.”  Presley flashed her perfectly white teeth at me.

“That won’t stop her from threatening you with a bar of soap.”

“When was the last time you even saw a bar of soap?”

I shook my head and turned my back to Presley.  Dad appeared on the lawn and motioned me over to him.  I had guests to greet and mingling to do.

My phone chirped repeatedly, but I turned it to silent mode and ignored it.

After lunch was served and eaten, and I endured seven comments about my repetitive outfit, I escaped the party and hid out in my old bedroom with Presley.

“Speaking of Isaac,” Presley said, “he asked about you at the club.”

“We weren’t speaking of him.”

“We did earlier.”

“Hardly.”

“I think he’s still into you.”  Presley leaned back on my bed and kicked her shoes off.  “He kept glancing at the entrance like he was waiting for you to walk in.”

“That ship sailed a long time ago.”

“Maybe not for him.  He never stopped liking you.  Did you know Isaac was ready to go beat the shit out of Cole when he found out he cheated on you?  If you hadn’t dumped that asshole when you did, Isaac would have ended up in jail on assault charges.”

I cringed.  I always knew Isaac hated Cole, but I figured it had more to do with my dating someone after him than anything else.  Cole was a classic tall, dark, and handsome kind of guy who worked out a lot, whereas Isaac never grew out of being a skinny, teenaged boy.

“That wouldn’t have helped anything,” I said.  “Isaac wouldn’t have had a chance against Cole.  He would have been beaten to a pulp.”

“I don’t think that would have stopped Isaac from trying.”

“I don’t know why you were all so mad at Cole in the first place,” I said.  “It’s not like he did anything to the rest of you.  He was always polite.  Even my dad liked him.”

“Your dad liked his father’s chain of pet food stores,” Presley said.  “He was an up-and-coming businessman who was about to hit his first million.  Your dad wanted his business, and Cole only treated you like shit when he thought no one else was looking.”

I knew she was right on that one.

“It’s not like he beat me or anything,” I muttered.  I rubbed my tongue over the tiny scar on my lip as the bitter, brief memory flashed through my mind.

I didn’t want to defend Cole.  It had happened so fast, and I think he had been as shocked as I.  He apologized for it once he saw that I was bleeding.  Regardless of that transgression, he consistently treated me like shit, and he was an asshole.  I figured it out before it went too far.

“He just yelled at me whenever something went wrong in his life,” I said, “as if it was my fault or something.”

“Just because a guy doesn’t lay a hand on you doesn’t mean he’s not abusive.”

“Yeah, I know.”  It was an old conversation and one I didn’t want to have again.  Presley didn’t know about the time he hit me.  I caught him with another woman and left him shortly after that, and then he moved out of state.  I never even heard from him after I told him it was over.  “Isn’t Isaac dating some undergrad now?”

“They went out twice, but he wasn’t feeling it.  She seemed sweet enough, but she had to work to put herself through school.  Not our usual crowd.”

I held back a smile when my diversion worked, but then my chest tightened when I realized it was the same tactic Ethan used when he didn’t want to continue a topic.  His face flashed through my mind, complete with a radiant smile.

“Is he the reason you’re dodging your text messages?”

“Who?”  I blinked a couple of times.

“Isaac, you dork.  Who else are you thinking about?”

“I’m not dodging anything.”

“Bullshit.”

“There’s that mouth again.”

Presley laughed.

“Are you girls done gossiping?”  Vanessa appeared in my doorway, tapping her foot.  “Ashlyn, my darling, your father is looking for you.”

“I’ll be right down.”

I found Dad on the patio with some of the board members I saw on Friday.  We exchanged some pleasantries before they left my father and me on our own.

“I’m sorry, Ash baby,” Dad said, “but I have to bail on golf today.  Vanessa is planning another big party, and she insisted I had to help her this afternoon.”

“No problem, Dad.  I really have a lot to do anyway.  We can go next weekend instead.”

“Great!”

We hobnobbed with a few more company people, and I basically went through the motions until the luncheon ended.  I hung around just long enough not to attract attention and then said my goodbyes and made my escape.

It wasn’t that I didn’t like Vanessa’s Sunday luncheons—I did.  They were a fabulous excuse to buy clothes and get dressed up, meet a lot of important people, and eat fantastic food.  When I was younger, Vanessa would have me wear long white gloves with my dress and carry a tiny purse.  The only things inside of it were lip gloss and my library card, but it made me feel very grown up.  Vanessa would dote on me and tell me how fancy I looked.  She paid far more attention to me on Sunday mornings than my own mother did in an entire year.

Today, however, I was distracted and just ready to get out of there.

“See you after class tomorrow!” Presley called as she slid into her BMW.  She waved as she drove off, and I headed home.

Once I was alone in my apartment again, I finally looked at my phone.  There were eight unread text messages and one voice mail.  Six of the texts were from Presley the night before, demanding to know why I wasn’t at the club.   One was from Zoey, apologizing for not being able to make today’s luncheon due to a rescheduled hair and nail appointment, which was Zoey-code for “got laid last night”.

The last text and the voicemail were from Ethan.  I listened to the voicemail first, but it simply said, “What happened?  Please call me back.”  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before checking his text.

Of course, there wasn’t an actual text message.  Instead, there was a video clip.  I could see Ethan’s face taking up the screen with the little arrow button in the center so I could watch it.

I took a deep breath, swallowed hard, and then pressed play.