Page 9 of Perfect Assumption

“No, really. I’m fine, Sula.”

“You don’t sound it.” Just as I’m about to protest, she barrels on. “Every time I talk to you, Angie, you sound more and more despondent.”

Ursula Moore, my college roommate, is the only person I’ve kept in contact with since I dropped out the second semester my freshman year. Sula was like a one-man army fighting off the harassing phone calls from students and reporters. But in the end, even after I made the decision to leave, she wouldn’t let go of me. She wouldn’t let me give in to the edge of despair I felt. And every day of loneliness I’ve experienced, I’ve been able to beat back simply by having her in my corner. Never doubting me. Not once.

“I don’t know how to describe it,” I worry aloud.

“Try” is her quick response.

“Every time something happens and his name is in the press, it’s all rehashed. I can’t move forward because I’m constantly being forced to look back.” I manage to get the words out.

Sula’s quiet before she responds. “Do you resent me? Wish I hadn’t…”

“No.” My voice is firm. Resolute.

“Angie, your life is wasting away.”

“It isn’t.”

“Do you have dreams anymore?” she counters.

I open my mouth and snap it shut. I dream, but they’re all nightmares. Memories of days that changed the course of my life. I choose my words carefully. “How much of a life would it have been if I hadn’t told the truth?”

“Maybe it could have been different.” Sula’s voice holds years of heartache. For me. Although she transferred schools, she completed her degree on time and has gone on to set an example of the life I wanted to lead.

The life I should have led.

“And I could have ended up being another damn statistic.” The temper my grandmother used to say I was born with, something I buried so deep in the early years she claimed it was like living with a different child, sparks. “Different path, same outcome. I’d still have to deal with the shame, the embarrassment, the disbelief.”

Only they’d be private thoughts, not something for everyone in the world to dissect every time they recognize my face.

“Oh, I wish we lived closer. You know I’d take on the world for you.” Sula’s voice is laced with regret. As a project manager for an international technology company, she’s been assigned to a project in Ireland for the next few years.

“And how many times do I have to tell you, you already have.”

She hums. “How about we go to the beach house when I’m done with this project? We can go grab pizza in Mystic, wander the shops in Newport—anything you want.” Sula’s parents have a glorious beach home on the Rhode Island border that’s a small slice of heaven.

“That sounds perfect.” And some of the tension leaves my body at the thought of a week of relaxing with my best friend, my ride or die.

“I love you, Angie. We’ll talk soon.”

“Soon, my friend. I love you too.” I press End on our call, and my thoughts turn back to that night at college.

“Come on, Angie. You know we’ll have a blast,” Sula urged.

“It’s an upperclassman party, Sula. How on earth are we going to get in?”

I burst out laughing as her temporary disappointment transformed to conniving. “We’re pledging with a sorority, Ange. All we have to do is go with our sisters.” She announced which sorority was co-hosting the event, and even I had to give her credit. It wasn’t a bad idea, especially as we did plan on announcing our commitment to them the following week.

“Future sisters,” I corrected her.

“Current, future. You know it’s a given. I mean, come on. You’re being courted by every damn Alpha, Beta, Chi, Delta on campus!”

“Like you’re not.” I rolled my eyes. My roommate’s combination of ice-blue eyes and black hair was startling in a pixie face. Right now, her full lips were in a pout. “All right! I give in. We’ll go!”

Sula’s smile spread across her face as she tackled me to my bed. “We’re going to have such an unforgettable time!”

“We’re going to be lucky not to get thrown out.” I laughed.