For The One(42)
I raised my brows. “You were in the science building? Doesn’t that make you break out in a rash?”
She smiled. “There are some cute science nerds over there. Sometimes I hang out. Anyway, your professor recognized me. He asked me when you’re coming back to the program.”
Finished with my food, I busied myself with cleaning up while avoiding her searching gaze. “Probably not for a while…if ever.”
Alex’s face fell. “Seriously? You have like, what? Two semesters left?”
“Four classes. It’s okay. What the hell was I going to do with a physics degree, anyway?”
“Teach, like you said you wanted to.”
I laughed. “I said that on a whim.”
She speared me with her gaze. “You’re amazing with the kids at the refugee center, and you’d be a wonderful science teacher. I know it’s your dream to get more girls to study science.”
I shrugged. “It would have been nice, but I’ve moved on from that.”
Her lips thinned. “Yeah, that’s your specialty, isn’t it?”
I took a deep breath in, willing myself not to be irritated with her. Alex wore her heart on her sleeve and always spoke her mind. It was one of the things I loved about her.
She shook her head. “Jenna…”
“Alejandra,” I mimicked.
She blinked. Oh shit. I could tell she was seconds away from tears.
“Why do you do this to yourself? Why do you punish yourself like this?”
I shook my head, folding the foil over the container to ready the leftovers for the fridge.
“It’s survivor’s guilt, you know.” Her voice trembled. “You’re always like this after you’ve gone to the cemetery. Are you afraid other people you love will die, too? So you move on?”
I dropped back into my seat again, letting out air like a tire that had been punctured. I reached up and rubbed my forehead.
Survivor’s guilt. That wasn’t the first time I’d heard that.
“Let’s not fight, Alex.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to, either. But I just have to say that I hate what you’re doing. You’re sabotaging yourself, you know.”
“I’m moving on to experience life…to experience new things. That’s not a punishment!”
“But what about everyone who cares about you here? Me, Mia, everyone else? All your friends. What about Helena?”
“I’ve moved on from Helena’s house, and we’re still close. It will be like that with you and me, too.”
Her lips curled. “Yeah, sure.” She stood up and snatched the container off the table then scurried into the kitchen. I grabbed our dishes and followed her.
“Can I help you get ready for the party?”
She answered quickly. “No, I’m fine. People aren’t coming over ‘til about eight or nine. I figure we could binge-watch reruns or do a drinking game or whatever. Just hang out.” Alex hesitated before adding, “You’re going to join us, right?”
I shrugged. “If I’m done with William by then. We’ll see. You know I’m not a huge fan of this new Doctor. He’s dark and moody.”
“Hmmm. I love him. It must be the eyebrows!”
I laughed at her, relieved that the mood between us was a bit lighter. “You’re a weirdo.”
A couple hours later, William knocked at the apartment door at exactly seven. I raced to answer it, but Alex was quicker. “William! Hey, dude. How are you?”
He nodded. “Hi, Alex. I’m fine. How are you?” Again, he had that weird tone to his voice, as if reciting memorized lines.
“Just grand. Hope you are up for some drinking later because we are watching Doctor Who!”
He frowned. “Reruns? I’ve already seen every episode twice on Blu-ray.”
“Not like this, you haven’t. We are drinking and watching with beer goggles on!”
He looked at Alex as if she’d said everything in Spanish.
“Never mind that. Wil is here to work.” I motioned to him to follow me back to my bedroom. “Come on, Alex is going to be noisy and disruptive out here.”
“Wil?” said Alex quietly as I walked by her. I shushed her and led William to my room.
“Sorry, there’s not a ton of furniture in here. I don’t rent as nice a place as you do. Do you want the chair or the bed?”
“I own it,” he answered in a quiet voice as he settled his large frame on the foot of my bed. Probably a good thing, because the wicker chair didn’t look sturdy enough to support him. I concluded he had judged wisely to take the bed.
“I’m sorry—what?”