Page 37 of Take Care, Taylor
“No offense,” she said, “but you’d look a lot prettier with your hair up instead of down all the time.”
“Thanks.” I pulled out some bread. “I think.”
“It’s a total compliment.” She looked sincere. “I guess I just—okay, don’t judge me—but from the way I read about you in some of his letters, I just pictured you looking completely different, so this has been a bit of a shock.”
“Emma!” I called out, really not wanting to talk to this woman. “Do you want to go out into town today?”
“No!” she yelled back. “You promised toasted sub sandwiches and Netflix!”
“Okay, fine!”
“I’m not trying to cause any problems, I swear.” Stacey offered me another strained smile. “I’m just in awe that he loves writing enough to put up with all this instead of what matters, you know?”
“No, I don’t know.” I shrugged. “I really don’t know much about his life, Stacey.”
“Okay.” She watched me in silence as I layered the bread with veggies and turkey.
Every now and then, I’d glance from the corner of my eye, hoping Taylor would finally notice she was here—but he was still on the phone.
As I slid the sandwiches into the oven for a quick toast, Stacey cleared her throat.
I pretended not to hear her, pulling out two Cokes instead.
“I just have one question to ask you,” she said, not reading the room at all. “If you don’t mind.”
“What is it?”
“Do you actually get a high when you write?” she asked. “Is it like an addiction you wouldn’t dare beg to be cured from?”
“For some people, yes.”
“I’m asking about you, Audrey.” She stared at me. “Is that why you’re here instead of going to grad school?”
Bing!The timer went off, and I pulled the sandwiches from the oven and set them on a plate.
I balanced the Cokes on the ledge and started toward my room, but Stacey grabbed my elbow before I could pass.
“I’m just trying to understand how this basic-ass shit could ever mean so much to anyone,” she whispered. “Woman to woman, I’m sure you can feel my pain.”
“I don’t see why you’d be in any pain at all.” I jerked my arm away. “You’re dating a top draft pick who, unlike most guys here, didn’t dump you before the program started just so he could focus.”
“I’m saying?—”
“He seems to really like you,” I cut her off, “so I don’t get what the hell you’re hoping to hear from me, but you and I are not friends. Just like he and I are not friends. So spare me your attempt at girl talk, woman to woman.”
I turned on my heel and walked to my room, shutting the door.
“Finally!” Emma jumped off my bed and grabbed one of the subs. “Can I eat mine on your balcony?”
“Why?”
“So I can stare at Mr. Wolff before we start the movie.”
“Go ahead.” I waved her away, and she unlocked the panel.
I inhaled my sandwich within seconds, wishing I could swallow down whatever the hell that was with Stacey.
As I was downing my drink, my phone buzzed with a call.
