“You have to stop saying that.”
“Why?” I asked
“Because it makes me feel weird.”
“Weird how?”
He’d said we weren’t going to discuss the ring until our mediation, but here we were.
“It doesn’t seem like enough. Seeing your face when you opened it makes me want to buy you a million things just so I can see that look every single day.”
“I swear to God, if you buy me anything else, I will kill you.”
“And that. I love that you get pissed about it, but love it at the same time. It’s adorable.”
“Bite me.”
“Such a charming girl. Didn’t they teach you not to say things like that in finishing school?”
“I missed kickboxing last week, and right now I’d really like to kick some boxes. I think you’d like to protect yours.”
“Is that what the kids are calling them these days?” he said, taking our plates and going to the sink. It was Darah’s turn for dishes, which she would do as soon as she got back from her date. She stuck to the chore chart like it was her religion.
Hunter went in our room and grabbed his guitar.
“Got any requests?”
“Rhapsody in Blue,” I said, sort of being sarcastic.
“I gave you a beautiful ring and some chocolate and now you want Rhapsody in Blue? You’re a demanding girl, Missy.”
“Fine. Play whatever you want.”
And then it happened. It was a simplified version, but it was Rhapsody in Blue nonetheless. He did Gershwin proud. Granted, it wasn’t the entire twenty-minute symphony, but it was decent. Hunter made the transitions from one section to the other flawlessly. He was a musical genius.
He ended the song and smirked at me.
“Next.”
“Why aren’t you a music major?” I’d lost track of how many times I’d asked him that. He always made some comment about his uncle and having a good career and other stuff I could tell he was just spitting back to me. He sounded like a guidance counselor when he talked about it, which was why I knew it was total bullshit.
“I’d rather have a lucrative job as a lawyer instead of saying, ‘Do you want fries with that?’ which is what I’d be doing as a music major.”
“What about music education?” I’d seen him with Harper, trying to teach her a few chords. I’d also seen a pink guitar in her room that I had the suspicion he bought for her.
“Me with a roomful of kids? Are you serious?”
“You’re great with Harper.”
“She’s one kid and she’s different.”
“How?”
“She just is. She’s special.”
“I think you’d be good at it.”
He started strumming a random melody. Now who was deflecting?
“It’s time for our mediation, Miss Caldwell.”
“After you, Mr. Zaccadelli.”
We trooped downstairs to Chris, our resident director’s, room. Chris was about twenty-five and a grad student in some sort of engineering field I couldn’t begin to understand. He was nice, but awkward. You could tell he was only doing it for the free housing and the stipend they paid him.
“Hello, Hunter, Taylor. How are we doing?”
“Fine,” we both said at the same time. I glared at Hunter. He winked back.
We seated ourselves on the couch, and Chris got his notebook out. Every now and then he’d make notes while we were talking, like he was a therapist or something. I was dying to know what he’d written about us, but all my attempts to steal said notebook had been futile. Maybe I could rope Hunter into helping me with a distraction.
“So let’s get started. How has this week gone?”
“Fabulous,” I said in a deadpan voice.
“It’s been great for me,” Hunter said.
“Okay,” Chris said, looking down at his notes. “Do you have any issues you feel we should discuss?”
“How about that you won’t stop kissing me?” Hunter said, turning toward me.
“How about the fact that you spent thousands of dollars on a custom-made ring and then just expect me to say thanks, and let’s be together and live happily ever after? How about that? How about the fact that you had some strange meeting with a man named Joe that you won’t tell me about?”
“Uh, let’s, uh, stay on track,” Chris said, floundering.
“How about the fact that you want me, I want you and for some reason, it’s impossible for us to be together, according to you?
“You still haven’t answered me about Joe.”
“You haven’t told me why we can’t be together.” We were in each other’s faces. His was getting redder, and I was pretty sure mine was as well.
“Because.”
“That’s not a fucking reason, Taylor.” He spat out my name.
“Language,” Chris said. “Let’s cool off for a moment. Do I need to bring out the talking stick again?”
“No,” we both said at the same time.
At our first session he’d had us hold this stupid stick, which was really a baton, so we could practice talking turns talking. It had ended with me hitting Hunter with the talking stick and him laughing.
I really did want to hit him again, but I didn’t want to get in trouble. Chris had looked the other way on the first talking stick assault, but I didn’t think he’d be so forgiving for a second.
“I don’t want to be assaulted again.”
“I did not assault you.”
“Missy, I really don’t want to go through the legal definition of assault with you right now.”
“Why don’t we start with you, Hunter? What has been bothering you this week?”
Hunter ignored Chris.
“You’re scared. You’re scared about this big, dark secret you carry around. It’s the reason you don’t trust people, the reason you put up this huge flashing sign that says, ‘Don’t come near me or I’ll kick you in the balls.’ It’s the reason you don’t want to give this a shot. I want to know what it is.”
“No.” He could yell and kiss me and do whatever he wanted, but I wasn’t discussing that with him. The only thing worse about him knowing and then running away would be him accepting it. What then? I’d have nothing left. No other reason to say no.
“See? This is what I have to put up with. She is content to try and root out my secret, but if anyone tries to get near hers, she’s got more walls up than a maximum security prison.”
“Taylor, why don’t you respond?”
“It’s none of his business.”
“You are my business. I made you my business. I want you to be my business.”
“I don’t. That’s all. He wants me, and I don’t want to be with him and he can’t take it. That’s all.”
“Is that true, Hunter?”
“Please, that’s bullshit.”
“Language.”
“I’ll talk how I like, thanks. It’s bull because she keeps kissing me and flirting with me and dancing with me. Either you get a sick kick out of messing with me, or you like me, but you’re scared. I’m going with the second.” He’d hit the nail on the head, but I wasn’t going to tell him that.
“I like messing with you,” I said.
“Prove it.”
“Bite me.”
“Okay, let’s get more specific. Are there any things that Hunter does specifically that we can talk about to resolve?” He clearly hadn’t been listening, or he was just reading from a script. Probably the second.
“He can stop trying to see me naked. That would be a start.”
“Hunter, do you have a response?”
“If she would just have sex with me, then that problem would be solved. Also, it would get me to leave. Two birds, one stone, Missy.”
“Fuck you.”
“Please, let’s keep this civil.” Chris was trying to keep control, but he’d never had it in the first place. “Let’s try a communication game.” Not a game. I didn’t know where he’d gotten these things from, but he made us play one at each of our sessions and they were always lame.
This one involved one of us being blindfolded and the other leading us from one side of the room to the other. It was supposed to build trust, but all it did was make me want to direct Hunter so he’d bump into things. It offered Hunter a chance to make me look like a moron, walking around in a circle with him making me do a crazy dance back and forth.
“You’re an ass,” I said as we walked back upstairs.
“Nothing I didn’t already know, Miss.”
“I hate you.”
“Nice try.”
“I love you?” Worth a shot.
“Not yet. But you will.” I went to our room and shut the door in his face.
Nineteen
The next week was strangely quiet. Hunter stopped his verbal assault about my secret, for which I was grateful, but it only meant that he was using other means to try and get it out of me. Lull me into a false sense of security, or something like that. I knew he wasn’t giving up. I’d just have to get him out first. Or at least find out what his was.
Something that distracted me from Hunter was Renee. She had been really weird and secretive. She’d be gone for abnormally long amounts of time to the library and she’d come back with a goofy grin on her face. I asked her if she’d met a cute boy in the stacks, but she just smiled and said I’d understand someday.