Page 115
Story: After Ever Happy (After 4)
Tessa watches him go, then turns to me with a not-unpleasant smile.
“I’ll hail a cab,” I say, still talking myself down internally. What did I think? That she would still be figuring shit out?
Yeah, I guess I did.
“I usually walk.”
“You walk? Alone?” I regret asking the second part of that question the moment it leaves my fucking mouth. After a beat, I conclude, “He walks you home.”
She winces. “Only the shifts we work together.”
“How long have you been dating him?”
“What?” She stops us before we even make it around the corner. “We aren’t dating.” She creases her brows.
“Seems like it.” I shrug, trying my fucking hardest to not be a sulking asshole about it.
“We aren’t. We spend time together, but I’m not dating at all.”
Looking at her, I try to determine if she’s telling the truth. “He wants to. The way he touched your hand.”
“Well, I don’t. Not yet.” She stares down at her feet while we cross the street. There aren’t nearly as many people out as earlier today, but the streets are still far from empty.
“Not yet? You haven’t dated anyone?” I watch a fruit vendor pack up for the night while praying for the answer that I want to hear.
“No, I don’t intend to date for a while.” I feel her eyes on me when she adds, “Are you? Dating anyone, I mean?”
The relief I feel to find out that she hasn’t been dating is beyond words. I turn and smile at her. “No. I don’t date.” I hope she catches my joke.
And she does smile. “I’ve heard that before.”
“I’m a conservative guy, remember?”
She laughs but doesn’t add any commentary as we stroll block after block. I need to talk to her about walking home this late. I have spent night after night, week after week, trying to imagine how she’s living her life here. Her working long days as a waitress and wandering home in the darkness of New York City was not something that crossed my mind.
“Why are you working in a restaurant?”
“Sophia got me the job. It’s a really nice place, and I make more money than you would think.”
“More money than you would at Vance?” I ask her, knowing the answer.
“I don’t mind it. It keeps me busy.”
“Vance told me you didn’t even ask for a recommendation, and you know he’s planning on opening something here, too.”
She is staring down the street now, mindlessly gazing into traffic. “I know, but I want to do something on my own. I like my job, for now, until I can get into NYU.”
“You haven’t gotten into NYU yet?” I exclaim, unable to hide my surprise. Why hasn’t anyone told me any of this? I force Landon to give me updates on Tessa’s life, but apparently he likes to leave out the important shit.
“No, but I am hoping for the spring semester.” She reaches her hand into her bag and pulls out a set of keys. “The deadlines had all passed.”
“You’re okay with that?” I’m surprised by the calm in her voice.
“Yeah, I’m only nineteen. It will be fine.” She shrugs, and I think my heart stops. “It’s not ideal, but I have time to make up for it. I could always take double courses and maybe even graduate early like you did.”
I don’t know what to say about this . . . calm and nonpanicked Tessa, Tessa without a rock-solid plan, but I’m more than happy to be around her.
“Yeah, I suppose you could—”
Before I can finish, a man steps out in front of us. His face is covered in dirt and overgrown whiskers. Instinctively, I step in front of Tessa.
“Hey, girly,” the man says.
My stance shifts from paranoid to protective, and I stand up straight, waiting for this asshole to try something.
“Hey, Joe. How are you tonight?” Tessa gently nudges me out of the way and pulls a small bag from her purse.
“I’m good, darling.” The man smiles and reaches his hand out for the bag. “What did you bring this time?”
I force myself to stay back, but not too far.
“Some fries and those sliders that you love.” She smiles, and the man grins back before unfolding the paper bag and lifting it to his face to smell the contents.
“You’re too good to me.” He pushes a dirt-stained hand into the bag and pulls out a handful of fries to shove into his mouth. “Want some?” He looks at each of us with one fry hanging from his mouth.
“No.” Tessa giggles, waving her hand in front of her. “You enjoy your dinner, Joe. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She waves for me to follow her around the corner, where she punches in her code to Landon’s apartment building.
“How do you know that guy?”
She stops in front of a row of mailboxes lining the lobby and opens one with her key while I wait for her response.
“He lives there, on that corner. He’s there each night, and so when we have leftovers in the kitchen, I try and bring them to him.”
“Is that safe?” I look behind us as we walk down the empty hall.
“Giving someone food? Yes.” She laughs. “I’m not as fragile as I used to be.” Her smile is genuine, not at all offended, and I don’t know what to say.
Inside the apartment, Tessa steps out of her shoes and pulls the tie from her neck. I haven’t allowed myself too many glances at her body. I have tried to keep my eyes on her face, her hair, hell, even her ears, but now, as she unbuttons the black shirt, revealing only a tank top underneath, I am distracted and I can’t seem to remember why I was avoiding admiring such a beautiful thing. Her fucking body is the most perfect, most fucking mouthwatering body, and the curve of her hips is something I fantasize about daily.
“I’ll hail a cab,” I say, still talking myself down internally. What did I think? That she would still be figuring shit out?
Yeah, I guess I did.
“I usually walk.”
“You walk? Alone?” I regret asking the second part of that question the moment it leaves my fucking mouth. After a beat, I conclude, “He walks you home.”
She winces. “Only the shifts we work together.”
“How long have you been dating him?”
“What?” She stops us before we even make it around the corner. “We aren’t dating.” She creases her brows.
“Seems like it.” I shrug, trying my fucking hardest to not be a sulking asshole about it.
“We aren’t. We spend time together, but I’m not dating at all.”
Looking at her, I try to determine if she’s telling the truth. “He wants to. The way he touched your hand.”
“Well, I don’t. Not yet.” She stares down at her feet while we cross the street. There aren’t nearly as many people out as earlier today, but the streets are still far from empty.
“Not yet? You haven’t dated anyone?” I watch a fruit vendor pack up for the night while praying for the answer that I want to hear.
“No, I don’t intend to date for a while.” I feel her eyes on me when she adds, “Are you? Dating anyone, I mean?”
The relief I feel to find out that she hasn’t been dating is beyond words. I turn and smile at her. “No. I don’t date.” I hope she catches my joke.
And she does smile. “I’ve heard that before.”
“I’m a conservative guy, remember?”
She laughs but doesn’t add any commentary as we stroll block after block. I need to talk to her about walking home this late. I have spent night after night, week after week, trying to imagine how she’s living her life here. Her working long days as a waitress and wandering home in the darkness of New York City was not something that crossed my mind.
“Why are you working in a restaurant?”
“Sophia got me the job. It’s a really nice place, and I make more money than you would think.”
“More money than you would at Vance?” I ask her, knowing the answer.
“I don’t mind it. It keeps me busy.”
“Vance told me you didn’t even ask for a recommendation, and you know he’s planning on opening something here, too.”
She is staring down the street now, mindlessly gazing into traffic. “I know, but I want to do something on my own. I like my job, for now, until I can get into NYU.”
“You haven’t gotten into NYU yet?” I exclaim, unable to hide my surprise. Why hasn’t anyone told me any of this? I force Landon to give me updates on Tessa’s life, but apparently he likes to leave out the important shit.
“No, but I am hoping for the spring semester.” She reaches her hand into her bag and pulls out a set of keys. “The deadlines had all passed.”
“You’re okay with that?” I’m surprised by the calm in her voice.
“Yeah, I’m only nineteen. It will be fine.” She shrugs, and I think my heart stops. “It’s not ideal, but I have time to make up for it. I could always take double courses and maybe even graduate early like you did.”
I don’t know what to say about this . . . calm and nonpanicked Tessa, Tessa without a rock-solid plan, but I’m more than happy to be around her.
“Yeah, I suppose you could—”
Before I can finish, a man steps out in front of us. His face is covered in dirt and overgrown whiskers. Instinctively, I step in front of Tessa.
“Hey, girly,” the man says.
My stance shifts from paranoid to protective, and I stand up straight, waiting for this asshole to try something.
“Hey, Joe. How are you tonight?” Tessa gently nudges me out of the way and pulls a small bag from her purse.
“I’m good, darling.” The man smiles and reaches his hand out for the bag. “What did you bring this time?”
I force myself to stay back, but not too far.
“Some fries and those sliders that you love.” She smiles, and the man grins back before unfolding the paper bag and lifting it to his face to smell the contents.
“You’re too good to me.” He pushes a dirt-stained hand into the bag and pulls out a handful of fries to shove into his mouth. “Want some?” He looks at each of us with one fry hanging from his mouth.
“No.” Tessa giggles, waving her hand in front of her. “You enjoy your dinner, Joe. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She waves for me to follow her around the corner, where she punches in her code to Landon’s apartment building.
“How do you know that guy?”
She stops in front of a row of mailboxes lining the lobby and opens one with her key while I wait for her response.
“He lives there, on that corner. He’s there each night, and so when we have leftovers in the kitchen, I try and bring them to him.”
“Is that safe?” I look behind us as we walk down the empty hall.
“Giving someone food? Yes.” She laughs. “I’m not as fragile as I used to be.” Her smile is genuine, not at all offended, and I don’t know what to say.
Inside the apartment, Tessa steps out of her shoes and pulls the tie from her neck. I haven’t allowed myself too many glances at her body. I have tried to keep my eyes on her face, her hair, hell, even her ears, but now, as she unbuttons the black shirt, revealing only a tank top underneath, I am distracted and I can’t seem to remember why I was avoiding admiring such a beautiful thing. Her fucking body is the most perfect, most fucking mouthwatering body, and the curve of her hips is something I fantasize about daily.
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