“Okay, I’ll think about it,” I say.
“Will you really think about it or are you just saying that to get me off your back? You know you say that a lot when you really have no intention of thinking about anything ‘cause your mind is already made up.”
“Oh my God.” I laugh. “You’re such a pest. I’ll think about it. Really. I promise.”
The Hamptons do sound nice. I’ve never been to Long Island, but I’ve seen it in plenty of movies and television shows. Maybe it would be nice to fly back here for a week or so and really let loose. If there’s anyone who knows how to have fun, it’s definitely Juliet.
“I’ll hold you to that,” she says, getting off my bed. “I’m really going to miss you, girlie.”
I turn to face her. She taps her foot slightly on the floor and doesn’t look directly at me.
“I’m going to miss you, too,” I say and wrap my arms around her.
“Hey, hey, hey. What’s going on here?” Dylan walks into our room through the open door.
“Are you saying your goodbyes already? You’re not leaving today, are you?” he asks.
I shake my head without letting go of Juliet. We’re still locked in an embrace and when I shake my head, we both move side to side.
“So, what’s up with the waterworks?” Dylan asks.
Juliet and I finally let go of each other. There’s mist in both of our eyes.
“Well, since you’re saying your goodbyes already, I wanted to make sure that you’ve said your goodbye to your engagement ring,” Dylan says, pulling out a small blue box from his pocket. “I’m taking it back to Tiffany’s today.”
Juliet’s eyes light up. “Give that to me,” she says.
“You haven’t taken it back already?” I ask.
Juliet opens the box and puts the ring on her finger.
“Gorgeous,” she whispers. “My future fiancé has his work cut out for him.”
I roll my eyes.
“Here, you have to put it on, Alice. One last time,” Juliet says.
I shake my head, but she grabs my hand and pushes the ring on my ring finger. The two-carat diamond and the little diamonds around the halo sparkle so bright that they make me want to reach for my sunglasses. I find myself transfixed, unable to look away.
“I have to hand it to you, Dylan,” I say. “I’m not sure that I’ll ever have a ring this beautiful in my life and I want to thank you for that. Whomever you marry in the future will be one lucky lady.”
Dylan’s face explodes in a wide, effervescent grin.
“No matter what, I have a feeling that you’ll be my favorite wife,” he says.
All three of us crack up laughing. Even now, I have a hard time believing that the events of this semester actually took place. Wow, what a ride.
36
A few hours later, I’m pretty much packed up. All the posters and pictures from my side of the room are down and all that’s left are little bits of glue and tape that I wasn’t able to scrape off. It’s definitely a sorry sight. Finals have this odd letdown quality to them. There’s all this build up, anxiety, and anticipation and work leading up to them. Then, one moment later, they’re over and you find yourself at a loss as to what to do. It’s like there was a purpose for you being there and suddenly there isn’t. It’s already my second semester, but I still haven’t found a decent way to cope with this feeling. A huge part of me wants to go to sleep and rest, but my mind keeps racing and my body wants to celebrate. We’re all going out later tonight, around ten, but there’re still hours until then. I plop down on my bed, pull the covers all around me, and wrap myself around my phone. The Internet is always a good way to kill time.
There’s a knock on my door.
“Hey.” Hudson stands in the doorway. “Can I come in?”
I just started a game of Candy Crush.
“Sure,” I say reluctantly, barely able to pull myself away from the screen.
“You going out tonight?” I ask.
“Yep,” he says, nodding.
“Cool.”
He doesn’t say anything for a moment. Okay, I have to put down the phone. He’s waiting for me to pay attention.
“What’s up?” I look up at him.
He sits down on the bed next to me. A little too close. I pull the covers over and create a little bit of a barrier between us.
“How did your finals go?” he asks.
“Good.” I shrug. “I don’t really know. I guess we’ll see.”
He looks somewhere behind me on the wall. I can tell that he’s not really interested in my answer.
“You? How was your Macroeconomics final?” I ask. That’s his most difficult class. I really hope that he ends up passing it and not just passing, but succeeding.
“I actually think it went okay,” he says. His eyes light up at the thought. “I’m really hoping for an A-. That professor never gives out As.”
“Oh, wow, that’s great. You see, you were worried.”
There’s a moment of silence. I wait for him to say something else, but he doesn’t.
“Hudson?” I say. His eyes return to mine. “What’s up? Did you just come here to talk about finals?”
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “Not really.”
I wait for him to say something else, but again, he is at a loss for words.
I’m starting to get impatient.
“Hudson, what’s going on? Is there something you want to talk about? If not, then please leave me alone so I can waste a few hours playing Candy Crush.”
“Okay,” he says, taking a deep
