“I guess I’m just tired.”

“I’m tired too,” a sultry voice from behind Drew says. “Who is this little person? Did you finally get an assistant like I told you to?” Angela moves beside Drew and lays her head against his shoulder, looking at me like I’m insignificant. She proves it by moving between us and putting her hand up to his cheek. “Sweetie, I think we should go over to the tent and get some refreshments and talk about our next session. I’m not turning red, am I? I put maximum sunscreen on, and I wouldn’t want this body to get burned.” She’s standing so close to him that I want to drag her by her bottle-colored hair and beat the crap out of her.

“You go and I’ll be there in a minute.” Drew moves around her and leans down to me.

“Okay, but don’t be too long. I haven’t seen you in days, and we need to catch up.” She doesn’t look back, but walks toward the tent as if she’s walking down a runway.

“I’ll bring you something back to drink, okay?” Drew kisses my cheek and then follows Angela like a little puppy dog.

That seals it. I’m leaving. I don’t belong in this world. I watch as he catches up with her and the perfect-looking couple strolls into the tent together. I grab my bag and make my getaway. Luckily, when I reach the top of the sand dune, limos are lined up waiting to shuttle people back to the hotel. I snag the one we came in. I say, “Hotel, please,” as I settle in and he takes me there without question. I ask him to wait for me, as I need to grab my things before heading to the airport. He doesn’t bat an eye, just nods his head.

The maid has been busy. Our hotel room looks immaculate. I quickly stuff all of my things into the carry-on bag. With tear-filled eyes, I leave, taking a long ride to the airport.

Flying back is so different. No plush seats, just economy, but I’m lucky that a seat was available. Even though I have to change planes, it’s worth it to get home.

Home. I don’t want to go back to the loft, and I don’t want to go back to my parents’, and I’m not going to go to Julie and Kevin’s, so I call Jeff when I land, hoping he’s not at the loft with Liam.

23

“I can’t believe you just up and left him without leaving a note or anything.”

This isn’t the first time Jeff has said that since he picked me up from the airport. All I can do is cry my heart out and let him rant. “It was a shoot. Drew had to look like it was real because that’s what he gets paid to do.” He hands me another tissue at a stoplight and turns to look at me. “Dora, quit bawling. Let’s talk this out.”

“I can’t. My heart is breaking,” I get out between sobs.

“What else did he do? Did he say he and Angela are an item? Did you even ask?”

“I don’t belong in his world. It was just a fling, but now my heart is broken … again.” I finally catch my breath, and though my heart is aching, my tears begin to subside.

“You need to call him. Don’t leave him hanging like this,” he continues, giving me advice until we pull into the parking lot of the student apartments on campus.

About an hour later, sitting on the plush blue couch in his apartment, he hands me my cell and tells me to call Drew or he’ll call my mom and tell her I’ve had a breakdown. I glare at him and his devious blackmail attempt.

I look at my phone and see twenty missed calls—all from Drew. Shit, my ringer has been off. I hit the call button and hear it ring. The butterflies are back and they’re going crazy. I know my blood sugar is out of whack because the last time I had anything to eat was, like, twelve hours ago. I’m starting to shake and feel drained of all emotion.

“Hello,” a familiar female voice answers.

“Um, yes, can I speak to Drew?” The shaking is getting worse. What is Angela doing answering his cell?

“He’s in the shower. Can I take a message?” she purrs. I swear she is.

“Tell him Dora called.” I should’ve just hung up, but I don’t.

“Does he have your number?”

“Yes,” I reply, thinking how dumb she must be since my number will be saved in Drew’s call log.

“Okay, I’ll tell him, but we’ll be out until late tonight, so he probably won’t call you until tomorrow sometime.” And before I can say anything, she hangs up. More tears stream down my face, and Jeff holds me as I sob my heart out again.

“Dora you’re going to be late for class.” Jeff’s voice seems so far away, but when I open my eyes, he’s right in front of me.

“Go away,” I say, pulling a pillow over my swollen eyes.

“Nope, not doing it. It’s okay to miss the first day of class, and maybe the second, but not the third. So, get your lazy butt out of bed and hit the shower.” He pulls the pillow away from my face, and I stick out my tongue. “Really mature. Clean that body while I make breakfast. You’re so lucky to have a friend like me.”

“I know,” I mumble, and I hear his laugh as I enter the bathroom.

“You look better. Except for the dark circles and puffy eyes.” Jeff puts a plate of eggs, bacon and toast in front of me.

I resist a snappy comeback because I don’t have one. It’s been more than a week since I left Drew in Florida. After I talked to Angela, I decided to block all of Drew’s calls. I didn’t want to hear any of his lame excuses. Of course, that didn’t stop him from harassing Julie, Kevin, and Jeff. Thank God he didn’t contact my parents. It’s been about three weeks since I’ve seen them, and I’m running out of reasons for why I can’t make the trip. I know as soon as my mom sees my face, she’ll be trying to find out what’s wrong. She can’t use her psychic powers on me, but her motherly instincts work just fine in that department.

“Eat up before it gets cold.”

“Yes, Mom. Okay, Mom. Anything you say, Mom,” I say sarcastically, but it just rolls off Jeff’s back.

“Speaking of Mom, I said we’ll be there on Sunday for dinner.” Jeff smirks at me, and yeah, my tongue automatically sticks out. Great. Only five days to get my eyes back to normal.

“Such a good friend you are.”

“I know,” he replies, seeming proud of himself.

Classes move at a snail’s pace all week. My nerves are stretched thin, as I’m constantly on the lookout for Drew to surprise me and show up at school. Of course, Jeff waits until Friday afternoon to let me know Drew is halfway around the world on another shoot. I have to punch him, since he also said Liam had told him Monday morning. I resist the urge to ask when Drew’s coming back, as I don’t want to hear Jeff lecturing me again.

Sunday, I wake up to a beautiful sunny morning, and if it wasn’t for the foot of snow covering the ground, you’d think it was spring or summer and not frigid winter. All bundled up in layers of clothing, I wait on the couch for Jeff to finish getting ready. I’m proud of myself for being up and ready before him. Maybe it means my heart is beginning to mend. Oh, who in the heck am I kidding?

“Boy, aren’t we anxious for dinner with the fam?”

“Yeah, right. Don’t mention anything about the whole Drew thing, okay?” I ask. Yes, I’m anxious. I’d give anything to avoid them finding out about my wild week of pre-marital sexual activity followed by a sudden breakup. They’re from a different generation and wouldn’t understand.

“Of course I won’t. I think Julie, Kevin, and I are doing a great job of telling you that you screwed up, so we don’t need any help.”

“Oh hush, and let’s just get this over with.”

An hour and a half later, we arrive at my parents’ house. The roads were a little busy for a Sunday, and several people decided they needed more excitement in their lives and got themselves into a few car accidents. Everyone is at the house, and luckily, there’s no time for small talk, as dinner is on the table and Mom tells us to take our seats as soon as we walk through the door.

“So, Dora, I tried to call you yesterday, it went straight to your voice mail, and you didn’t return my calls.

Great. Trust Grandma to bring this up the moment dinner starts.

“I was getting weird calls, so I turned it off during the day.”

“Weird calls? Did you call the police?”

Awesome. Now everyone at the table, even Bridget, who likes to eat and then excuse herself because she’s too cool for us, is staring at me.

“Not police-calling weird, just wrong numbers, telemarketers, and such. No big deal, but it wastes my minutes when I answer them.” They don’t need to know I have an unlimited minute plan, do they?

My dad, the sweet man that he is, changes the subject. “So, how does it feel to be graduating in less than five months?”

I let Jeff answer first, and then I say something appropriate. To my relief, everyone seems to be concentrating on their plates.

Right after dinner, Jeff, Granddad, and my dad disappear into the den. Bridget and Taylor sneak away as usual, and I’m on kitchen duty with the women.

“Dora, how are your queer—I mean—gay roommates doing?”

Oh, Grandma. You just have to love her.

“They’re fine. In fact, they’re all out of the country right now. I hardly see them between work and school.” My back is to them, thank goodness, because even though they’re out of the country, Jeff’s my roomie now, so that would be a lie.

“They’re nice young men. I just don’t understand why they wouldn’t want to settle down with a woman and have a family.” Now Grandmother has to put in her two cents.

“Maybe because they haven’t found the right women, and I told you, two of them aren’t gay.”

There, I said it. Now they either deal or decide to live in their “our granddaughter is living with gays, so she’s safe” world.