Page 5 of Blush
She had thought her passion for Sontag’s work would be enough to sustain her through the rigors of developing a thesis.
Apparently, it wasn’t.
“I’m a little behind, but I have my topic now,” Sadie said. “Detachment as methodology in the works of Susan Sontag.”
“You were supposed to have finalized your topic months ago. You should have an outline already.”
“I can catch up.”
Dr. Moore clasped her hands together and leaned forward on the desk. “Sadie, I can’t in good conscience keep you on as my research assistant. Even if I wanted to overlook the fact that your status in the honors program is in jeopardy—a prerequisite for the research position—you need to focus on your academics.”
Sadie crossed her arms, hugging herself. “I just need a little more time. Can we talk after the weekend?”
“Sadie, this isn’t something that can be figured out in one weekend. Nor should it be. I want you to give this some thought.”
Some thought? All she’d been doing was thinking about it! She was exhausted.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she said quietly.
“Nothing’s wrong with you. This is exactly how you should feel.”
“I’m supposed to feel like I’m failing?”
“No. But this is meant to be a challenge. Have you ever felt challenged before?”
“Of course,” she said. But inside, the answer was a stunning no. She’d never thought of it that way before. She’d always worked hard, but writing short stories felt natural to her—like flexing a muscle that ached to be stretched. Writing this paper, based on research and a sort of rigid academic logic she wasn’t accustomed to, was like she was asking her body to lift two tons.
“Sadie, the purpose of this time of your life is to push yourself. Get out of your comfort zone. Dig deep.”
Dig deep? Sadie’s ideas were subterranean. There was nowheredeeperto go.
So no—she wasn’t in the mood to spend the weekend at the beach meeting Holden’s family.
She looked up at him.
“The truth is, Dr. Moore fired me from my research position. I have to get back on track. I mean, maybe I wouldn’t be offtrack if I wasn’t going out all the time.”
“Going out all the time? You’re a twenty-one-year-old hermit.”
What was he talking about? She went out. Sometimes. Not everyone could keep up with his drinking.
“Look, I’m not outdoorsy like you. I didn’t grow up in Connecticut.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Holden said.
Sadie was not a beach person. She didn’t want to lie down in glorified dirt. She didn’t want to walk barefoot and step on creatures. She didn’t want to deal with plastic bags packed with moldering food.
Holden didn’t wait for her response. “Sadie, I’m sorry about the gig with Dr. Moore. But you have all summer to figure this out. Let’s get on the road.” He walked over to her dresser and pulled out some clothes, tossing them into the half-packed bag. “No more excuses. We’re going to have a great time. My parents and sisters can’t wait to meet you.”
Sadie wanted to meet them, too. She wanted to meet his mother, Catherine. His dad, Douglas. And his sisters, Lily and June. She wished she were the type of person who could run around with the sunny blond Dillworth family, clamming and sailing and doing whatever it was normal people did on a summer weekend.
But she had to work. Surely, Holden would understand that.
“You’re asking me to choose between you and my work.”
Holden tossed his car keys from hand to hand, impatient. “Are you coming or not?”
When Sadie didn’t move, Holden kicked the desk chair. She flinched.
