Page 9 of Pretty Ruthless

“What do you want for breakfast? I could seriously eat a whole cow,” she yells from the bathroom.

“Which end do you start with in that scenario?” I ask as I open the flap of the messenger style bag.

“The center, duh,” she laughs and I chuckle too.

“I’m surprised you don’t have a whole cow and dairy equipment in this thing.” I yell from the bed, Claire’s purse reminds me of that bag from Mary Poppins, she has everything in here.

She pops her head out of the bathroom and her eyes widen, “not that bag.”

“Found your pills.” I say and toss the pill package to her. She catches it from her spot in the doorway, “no toothbrush. Was it in your overnight bag?” I ask, setting her purse to the side, I look over at her to get some clarification on which bag she meant but her eyes are trained on the floor in front of me. I follow her line of sight and two envelopes sit opened on the ground face down.

I lean down to grab them,“These trash or do you want them back in your-“ I flip over the envelope just in time to see Stanford University.

“You’re still carrying around your waitlist letter? Baby, it’s okay. Community College is going to be great.” I look over at her and her eyes are inspecting the floor like it’s the most interesting thing in the whole world. The second envelope in my hand feels expensive, like the company paid a lot of money to make their stationary as uppity as possible, I turn it over slowly the emblem in the return address shows a drawing of the Golden Gate Bridge and the words marketing agency.

“Babe,” I say slowly, “what is this?” I’m trying to keep my breathing even because I could be completely overreacting here and it’s a thanks for applying letter. There’s a long pause, probably the longest pause in the history of the universe. I turn my head to her, she’s gnawing on her bottom lip as tears crest against the waterline of her lids.

“I got in,” she says finally, “I got into Stanford and I got accepted to the internship.” Her shoulders drop like she just released the weight of the world and can finally breathe.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask, hurt hitting harder than I thought it would before another emotion I’m more akin to rises up. Anger.

“How long have you known?” I ask, my voice barely containing the rage, I’m not mad she got in, the opposite actually, I’m so freaking proud of her but it’s the secrecy of it all that pisses me off.

“I got the Stanford letter last week and internship acceptance on Monday,” she answers the second question but the first question burns through me and my heart feels like it’s on fire.

“I’ll ask again, why didn’t you tell me?” I spit, staring at her.

“I was going to.” She answers timidly.

“When? On your way out of town? The day before you’re supposed to leave? Stop by the house for one last goodbye fuck before you hit the road? What was all this then? Huh? You wanted me to break you in so you wouldn’t have to deal with your pesky virginity in college?” I hear the slap seconds before I feel it. A stinging pain lances through the side of my face and I definitely deserved that.

“I was going to tell you last night but then we got carried away,” she spits, “don’t you dare cheapen last night into ‘breaking me in’” she roars, using air quotes.

I take a deep breath, counting to five in my head before saying anything more. Us fighting isn’t going to solve anything right now.

“I’m sorry, it just feels a little malicious that you didn’t say anything about leaving before we had sex, not that I’m complaining, the sex was excellent.”

“That’s why I hadn’t said anything, you get all up in your head, I wanted to be in the moment with you, is that really so terrible?” Claire asks, cocking her head to the side.

“No, I guess not, and you’re right, I do overthink things.”

“I’m right? How’d that taste coming out of your mouth?” She asks as she takes a seat on the bed next to me.

“Like shit.” I chuckle and so does she. We sit for a long moment there on the edge of the bed, my mind whirling with all the plans we had and the fact that none of those will come to fruition now.

“When do you leave?” I ask, my voice coming out hoarser than I intended it to.

“July 8th,” she replies, placing her hand on my thigh. I cover her hand with mine and give it a light squeeze.

“A month then.” I nod.

“I’ll be back, I’m going to San Francisco not Antarctica,” she giggles knocking my shoulder with hers.

“Yeah and I can come visit you.” I tell her.

“Of course, it won’t be all bad, I'll just not live here.” Claire gives me a soft smile and I smile back but the feeling that this is the pinnacle of our relationship and everything from here on out will be really fucking hard sits heavy on my chest.

Chapter 9

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