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An hour ago, I was lying on my bed waiting for him to call while Bryce is, what, throwing a party? A flare of indignation, heated and overwhelming, comes over me.
I pound on the door.
“Who else did you call?” I ask my guests.
When I announced to the department that I would apply for graduation instead of transitioning into a master’s degree, the news went around quickly. Once I confirmed my acceptance of a position with Kopfke Research Institute, friends insisted on coming over.
Sarah, Carl, Stanley, Liz, and I are chugging our drinks to get a head start before we meet more friends at the bar. Out of nowhere, the pounding at the front door disrupts our cheers.
Everyone shrugs, looking as puzzled as I am. Carl, who is closest to the door, leans into the peephole. His head jerks back in surprise before he turns around, eyes bright. Without asking for my permission, he swings the door open to reveal a goddess in a blue sweater.
Ana is standing outside my apartment.
I’m struck, as usual, by the fullness of black hair flowing over her shoulders, the tips landing over the swell of her breasts. Her hands are fisted on each side of hips encased in fitted pants that showcase long legs. Her cheeks are red, her mouth stern, and her expression fierce.
My heart stops and my skin feels too tight. It feels surreal, conjuring in real life the person who frequently takes over your brain.
“Ana.” I’m in front of her without having registered my movement. “What are you doing here?”
Carl sticks his head beside mine. “I remember you. At the Halloween party. I’m Carl.”
He offers his hand. Ever the polite socialite, Ana shakes his paw automatically. “Ana. Nice to meet you.”
I feel my other guests gather behind me, trying to get a look at the surprise visitor who has yet to answer my question.
“Um, Bryce?” a woman’s voice behind me prompts. It’s Liz, with whom I shared a teaching assistant office for the last two years.
“Sorry, sorry,” I sputter and move back to give Ana more space. “Come in. I didn’t expect you. Did you, um, did I miss your call? Is everything OK?”
Her eyes are guarded, taking in the scene. There are a few rounds of beer on the ledge and an empty box of pizza on my desk. Sarah, who hadn’t joined the others in their curious assessment of Ana, is lounging on my bed where a few people have to sit because I don’t have enough chairs.
Something passes between Ana and Sarah before Liz breaks the face-off. “We were celebrating Bryce’s new job. Did you hear about it too?”
“What?” She asks the question with a tilt of the head and a bland expression. I see the hurt behind her pretend casualness.
“I was going to announce it this weekend,” I tell her lamely.
“Oh, that’s good,” she responds deadpan. “I’m sure I would have heard about it, eventually.” Her arched brow confirms my fuckup.
“Want a beer, Ana?” Stanley asks.
“She’s still in high school,” Sarah offers with a tinkling laugh. “Unless it’s OK with Bryce. Aren’t you, like, her guardian?”
“I don’t have a guardian. But thanks for being so considerate,” Ana drawls in Sarah’s direction.
“Shawna and I, we, um, passed by your place,” Ana directs her words at me. “Since I hadn’t heard from you about… about that thing we were going to talk about, I thought I would stop by.”
“I planned to come over tomorrow.”
“I didn’t realize I was interrupting a party,” she says, ignoring my last statement. “Have fun. Sorry to bother you. I’ll let myself out.”
“Ana, please come in. I was just surprised.” She shakes her head but stops when I touch her shoulder. “Please stay.”
“Are you sure?” she asks hesitantly and all I want to do is assure her with a kiss. As if she read my mind, she wets her lower lip.
Suddenly, nothing is more important than getting all these other people out. Now.
“He’s sure,” Stanley interrupts. He gathers a chair for her.
