I grabbed my laptop from my bed, slunk back down onto the floor, and researched architecture programs in Los Angeles for hours. My options were limited, but I still had time to make something happen before graduation.
I hadn’t realized it then, but that night was the first time I’d started to think about my future since the day my parents had passed away… and I had Grayson to thank for it.
For the next few months, I brushed off requests to party. I pushed aside the bad influences and locked myself in my school’s art room after the final bell rang each day. I had a portfolio to build and hardly any time to do it.
The next time I saw Grayson after he’d unknowingly changed my life was at Brooklyn’s twenty-second birthday party. I knew he’d be attending, so I’d tried to dress up my seventeen-year-old frame in a way that screamed “precocious chic”. I had too much make-up on and wore a dress that was fighting to cut off circulation to my lungs. I teetered along in high heels I had no business wearing.
When we arrived at the party, Grayson was already there with a gorgeous blonde girl hanging on his arm. She looked like she’d just stepped off the catwalk in Milan and as she smiled wide, pressing her palm to his chest, my hope deflated. I paused at the front entrance of the restaurant as every question I’d planned on asking him, every conversation starter that I’d brainstormed over the last few days slipped away along with my naive hope. I remember feeling so silly standing there in a dress that gapped around my hips where seductive curves should have been.
I’d done a stupid thing by putting my faith in an absolute stranger. For those last few months, since he’d first appeared in my life, I hadn’t done a single reckless thing. I’d made curfew, I hadn’t sneaked out at night, and I’d told my sister exactly where I’d be when I was going out. Grayson had been my reason for changing, but as I stood there and watched him with that woman, a beautiful woman his own age, I had a sudden yearning to do something crazy, to get out of my own head for a few hours.
I slipped over to the side of the restaurant and gave my friend Darren a call. He was a guy from my high school, someone known for walking the line between right, wrong, and Class C misdemeanor. With his holier-than-thou attitude and his ever-present pair of combat boots, even I couldn’t stand the idea of being around him for very long, but he would work just fine for one evening of fun.
When Darren arrived, he stood at the entrance of the restaurant wearing a Ramone’s t-shirt and a bored expression. He didn’t even bother stepping inside. It wasn’t his style. He waited for me at the door as I hugged Brooklyn goodbye. She begged me to stay and whispered that she was worried about me leaving with Darren. I pulled out of her grasp as a sinking feeling started to take hold inside of my gut. You’re better than this. Stay. Don’t do something reckless. There was no point in doubting my decision; my conscience was fighting a losing battle. At that point in my life, I wasn’t worried about anyone but myself. I didn’t care that it was my sister’s birthday. I needed out.
I felt Grayson’s gaze on me as I walked away. Just before Darren took my hand and pulled me through the front door, I turned back and locked eyes with him.
His gaze was cold and hard. There was a darkness in his expression that hadn’t been there before. His jaw was locked tight and his brows were knit together. He shook his head once, and then turned away from me—back to the blonde staring up at him with doe eyes.
Annoyed, I stormed out of the restaurant’s front doors, ripped off my heels, and sped off with Darren to a college party down in the Valley. I can’t recall if I even slept in my own bed that night.
After that night, a few years passed before I saw Grayson again. I’d done my best to forget the part of my life when I’d been completely obsessed with him. Instead, I focused on my goal: becoming a licensed architect. I was in the second year of my architecture program and I was already in love with the field.
Then, one day, I glanced up from writing “Guest Lecture Series - #3” in my spiral notebook and saw him standing at the front of my college lecture hall.
I didn’t believe it was him at first. He looked different than he had before: all grown up in a navy blue suit, complete with linked cuffs and shined shoes. His rich brown hair had grown out a little on top, but it was styled back, highlighting his strong bone structure. His red tie fell perfectly down the center of his broad chest and his hands were clenched into fists by his sides as his eyes locked with mine. Oh, it was him all right. He’d given me that same exact stare the last time I’d seen him.