Page 22 of Chasing Lynda

“The last year has been really stressful for me.” She volunteers. “I grew up in a really strict family and ...” She inhales deeply, as if to keep her voice steady and avoid crying. “Let’s put it this way, I broke up with a guy my parents approved of. They didn’t see that he wasn’t as nice as they thought. He was ... wrong for me.”

I grind my jaw at the way her eyes veil with unshed tears, reading between the lines of what she isn’t saying. Her ex was probably an abusive asshole.

“My parents didn’t take the split very well, so I had to move out. I’ve been on my own since then and money has been ... tight. So tight that a meal like this is—I haven’t really had anything like this since I graduated high school almost two years ago.”

Fuck.

I feel terrible for assuming. “I’m sorry, Lynda.”

She shrugs it off. “Thank you. But that’s just to tell you how sometimes appearances can be deceiving. I’m not just naturally skinny. If I ate like this every day, I’d probably be really fat.”

––––––––

I SMILE AT HER ATTEMPT at self-deprecation and open up with someone that isn’t one of my best friends for the first time in forever. “I know appearances can often be misleading. My friends and I are the poster children for that. We were born with more wealth than most people ever experience in their lifetime, and yet, we want to forge our own paths. We don’t want to follow in our father’s footsteps and the resort is our way to break free from family obligations.”

She nods, as if understanding what I mean. “What kind of obligations?” she asks. “Did they have all your future mapped out for you?”

Yeah, she definitely understands where I’m coming from.

“That and other things.” I admit. “They wanted to dictate everything. Our studies, our jobs. All the way down to the women we’d marry.”

Lynda takes a sip of her milkshake. “I understand. That’s why I had to leave.”

There’s something in her blue gaze that makes me decide not to ask for more details. I want to know more about her, but I can see clearly that she isn’t ready to tell me what happened with her parents.

But my curiosity eventually has the best of me and I can’t resist finding out more. Even if it’s trivial stuff. We’ll leave the heavy topics for when we know more about each other.

“Let’s play a game!” I suggest, as I signal our server for the check. “Five questions. Only one rule. We can’t lie.”

She tenses up, so I add, “But we have one bullshit bonus.”

Lynda tilts her head to the side, narrowing her eyes. “A bullshit bonus?”

I nod. “Yeah, just in case the question is too personal.”

She argues with the idea. “What’s the point of that? If we know it’s a lie? Isn’t it better that the bonus is that we can refuse to answer?”

I shake my head. “Nope. We must answer each question; and if you think about it, knowing that the other person lied gives you a ‘lot’ of information in itself.”

Her eyes shine with amusement as she accepts my challenge. “Ok. But I’m going first.”

I chuckle. “Sure thing. Shoot.”

“You said your family wanted to dictate your studies. Are you a college student?”

I end up giving her more details than she asked for. “Yeah. I just got my bachelor in psychology. But I still need a masters and a doctorate. I was also planning to specialize in sport psychology but I might change that part. Since our plans changed. My parents were fuming. My dad wanted me to follow his career path and join the military. He’s a four star general.”

She considers my words and then meets my gaze, but I can see that she’s nervous in the way she’s fidgeting with a paper napkin. She’s making confetti out of it. “Your turn.”

I decide to go easy on her. “Do you go to school at Bridgeport?”

She lowers her gaze. “No. I—the plan was NYU, but my parents didn’t approve. I ended up taking a gap year.”

It’s impossible not to miss the sadness in her eyes. I feel angry on her behalf and I can totally relate to having overbearing, controlling parents.

She asks the next question. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Blue. You?”

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