CHAPTER 27
Elizabeth Schuyler
I wrinkle my nose at the news. "Martha Wayles. Damn. She sounds really familiar."
Maria barks a dry laugh on the other end. "Yeah. She's one of my roommates."
"Shit." Maria makes a muffled sound of agreement while I ponder the girl. She's dating Jefferson, so not only did she help Dolley cheat on Maria, she cheated on Jefferson. I wonder how he'll feel when he finds out.
"You feeling any better?'
"Yeah, I actually dumped a bucket of chalk on Dolley's head." I can't name it, but for some reason, her voice sounds like she's grinning. I don't even try to push down the smile that appears on my face. Angelica looks up from her novel with a withering look aimed at me (in retribution for the interruption), but I don't spare her an apologetic glance.
"Anyways, do you want to, um, celebrate the breakup with me?"
I giggle. Only Maria would arrange a celebration for the breakup.
"Sure, but just don't invite Martha." I think this goes without saying.
"Oh, I wasn't - I, uh - I didn't think I would invite anyone else."
"Just me?" Oh. Right. She could mean a date. Suddenly, my mouth goes dry and the words previously streaming out my mouth in sentences get stuck in my throat.
"If you want to."
"I do." Then I realize that kind of sounds like a vow at a wedding. "I want to." Then I realize I'm being stupid. It sounds fine.
"Um, great. I'll be at your dorm in twenty minutes, does that work?" I'm stuck in my own head, racing with excitement, and I don't realize that I'm supposed to respond until there's been a super awkward pause.
"Yep." I hang up before I can make a fool of myself any more. Then I scream before I realize that there's someone else in the room.
"Shut up, idiot," Angelica hisses at me. Theodosia just laughs. I spend most of the twenty minutes until Maria arrives pacing my room and involuntarily weighing every single conversation we could ever have. By the time I've gotten through her confessing her love for me, her finding out my crush on her, her saying she still loves Dolley, and her saying she loves each of my sisters or John, Alex, Hercules or Lafayette, the doorbell rings. It's only then that I realize I'm still wearing patterned leggings and a sweater from the morning, but I don't care enough to change and I doubt Maria will judge me for it. She isn't that kind of person.
I swing open the door with one of those goofy, wide grins on my face that I wish I could tone down. Maria greets me with an identical smile.
"Hey," I say. She fidgets with the strings in the rip in her jeans.
"Hey." I lead her out the door and through the hallway before stopping.
"So, um, where are we going?"
Maria laughs, and it isn't the same harsh sound as before. It's gentle.
"I'll show you." She steps in front of me and starts walking, and as she turns, her hand brushes against mine. I realize I kind of really want to hold it. But she walks faster, and I don't have the opportunity.
Maria finally stops walking after we have signed out and entered the small town that surrounds the school. We stand outside the diner for just a moment admiring the neon lights it's bathed in. We sit in the same place as before - the booth near the window. Soon enough, the young, blond waiter visits our table. The one I was dared to flirt with. The one that makes Maria shift uncomfortably in her seat.
"And what can I get for you tonight, beautiful?"
"Okay, first of all, please don't call me that. Second, we'll take one cherry and one vanilla milkshake." Maria grins and nods at me. I don't think she minds that I ordered for her, and I think she minds much less that I shut down the waiter's flirtatious nature. He mumbles an apology and stumbles away, disgruntled and embarrassed. Maria gives me a subtle thumbs-up once he's gone.
"Gotta love those boys who don't recognize a date when it stares them in the face." Maria chuckles into her clasped hands.
"A date?"
"I mean, yeah. If that's what this is." I nod emphatically. Waiter Boy revisits us without any eye contact but carrying two milkshakes a few minutes later. We gratefully accept them onto the table and spend the next chunk of time sipping obnoxiously through our straws. Then Maria looks up at me, and I take a break from the creamy vanilla drink.
"Hi." A lot more is conveyed in these two letters than when we met.
"Hi," she shoots back, her eyes never leaving mine.
Maria Lewis
I'm on a date with Elizabeth Schuyler. The girl of my dreams. The girl I should have been with this whole time. I don't care that I've just broken up with Dolley because our relationship seems so small and unimportant from this perspective. She cheated on me, and she doesn't deserve any of my time. The only person I can think about is sitting right across from me with her chin propped up on her delicate fingers. I don't know why I ever gave up on her. I can't let her get away from me again. I can't let her slip through my fingers like before.
"What are you thinking about?" Her baby blue eyes finish their sweep of the diner and return to mine.
"Nothing." I raise my eyebrows at her and she shrugs. "Everything. Alex, I guess."
I didn't think it would come to this soon. I thought she was over him.
"What about him?"
"Just… he and John. We can't let anything come between them."
"You're absolutely right. And we can't let anything come between us, either. No girls; no guys. Just us." Her fingers fall from the glass she is drinking from, and my hand travels across the table to take it. She grazes her thumb in patterns on my skin.
"Just us," she repeats in a whisper. I have to close and reopen my eyes to make sure it's real. Sure enough, there's Eliza Schuyler, smiling gently and holding my hand. It's kind of crazy, and I really like it. But it's also kind of threatening, and I feel like I have to say the right thing in order to win her favor.
"So you dated Alex, and now you're on a date with me… ?"
"I'm bisexual, you know, I like guys and -"
"Yeah, got it. That's cool." But I wonder if that means that she would go back to him. I tell myself she wouldn't. Even though I like girls, it's not like I'll go back to Dolley. My logic is fatally flawed. I find my mind wandering off and try to bring it back to right here, right now. In this diner with Eliza sitting opposite me with chapped pink lips and subtle silver earrings.
"You're really pretty." A moment after the words lazily escape my lips, I open my mouth in horror at what I just said. That wasn't meant to leave my brain.
"So are you," she says, not missing a beat, and then she's reaching over to me. Her soft hand sweeps over my skin and touches my hair before she pulls back sheepishly.
"I really like you. I have from essentially the beginning of school, actually, but you -"
The waiter strides up to our table holding a notepad and wearing a very fake smile.
"Can I get any food for you tonight?" Eliza glances apologetically at me before clearing her throat and answering him.
"I'll just have a bowl of mac and cheese," she tells him, a smile playing across her lips. Her smile is stunning. I rest my head in my open palms and fix my eyes on the beautiful blue-eyed girl sitting opposite me at our table. For a moment I let myself stare, just for the time she's distracted by both the waiter hovering over us and the prospect of eating. A silence descends upon the three of us, and only then do I realize that he must be waiting for me to place my order.
"Grilled cheese and french fries, please." I straighten my back and let my hands slip back into a folded position on my thighs. He scribbles something quickly onto his notepad, quickly enough that his writing would likely be illegible to me.
"Great, I'll be back with that as soon as possible." He spins on his heel and I swivel in my seat once more to face my date. The smile that I noticed when lost looking at her stays etched on her lips and it doesn't take more than that to make me smile as well.
"How long do you think it'll be?" she chirps. I shrug and sit forward in my seat.
"My best guess? Twenty minutes. I swear that waiter hates us both. You for the rejection, me for being on a date with you." She laughs and copies leaning stance. I break eye contact with her to give my attention to the milkshake slowly melting in front of me.
"Okay, um, favorite ice cream flavor?" I question her, hoping to spark our conversation back to life after the awkward atmosphere the blond waiter dragged over with himself. She pauses, pondering both my estimate of the time and her answer. I let her take the time she needs, any time spent with her is time well spent, after all.
"Salted Caramel. Or Vanilla," she says decisively. I can hear the smile in her tone when she speaks. And I don't have to look at her to know it's beautiful.
When I look up to meet her gaze, she's closer than expected. Close enough to, at least, make my heart race. Closer than before, I would think. I would if I could think about anything other than how near to mine her breathtaking eyes are. And how she smells faintly of vanilla. And how it would be so easy to just lean over and kiss her. I act on impulse, not even giving myself the chance to second-guess my choices before closing the space between our lips. Someone clears their throat, very loudly and very awkwardly. Red-faced with embarrassment, I tear my eyes away and settle back. I listen to the clatter of plates and trays on plastic but still avoid Eliza's eyes. I half expect her to be angry, or maybe I'm merely angry at myself. But when the waiter leaves us in peace, and I make myself meet her eyes, she's smiling. She glances out into the aisle and when she turns back, this time, she kisses me.
