Since we've been a couple, I've never wondered if Alex and I were compatible. What I told my parents remains true—we complement each other in every way. Being with her in Miami solidified my desire to spend every day with her, but if I'm being honest with myself, I'm worried about her job situation. I know she's anxious about finding employment in San Diego, and while I share her concern, I selfishly want her there with me no matter what. Pushing my self-interest aside, if she doesn't have a job by mid-summer, I'm going to once again suggest that she take one more temporary placement with her company even if it's not in San Diego. Besides, I have to get acclimated to graduate school expectations, which I'm sure are greater than expectations on the undergrad level.
We continue seeing each other every weekend throughout the rest of April and into May until my college graduation is upon us. I haven't given much thought to my family being here along with Alex, but I'm sure it'll be uncomfortable and awkward for everyone involved. It isn't until two weeks before graduation when my father calls.
"I've made hotel arrangements for us in Northampton," he says. "And dinner reservations for that night."
I don't want this to be contentious, but I have to say what's on my mind. "Reservations for how many?"
"The four of us," he responds. "Unfortunately, Danny can't make it."
I all but hold my breath as I say, "You're forgetting Alex; there will be five of us."
"She's not invited, Piper," he replies in a firm voice. "Your mother and I sacrificed a lot for you—you didn't even have to take out any student loans. The least you can do is have dinner with us without your girlfriend tagging along."
"I am so grateful to you for paying for my education." I close my eyes. "But Alex is a big part of my life, and I want to celebrate with her, too."
"I'm sure you'll have plenty of time for that."
"That's not the point…" I let out a long sigh and shake my head, knowing I'm not going to convince him to change his mind over the phone. "I have to go. I'll see you at graduation."
I hang up feeling deflated. Should I have refused to go to dinner altogether? I need to talk to Alex, but she's still at work. I try concentrating on my final paper for my epistemology class, but it's no use. I put my laptop aside and opt for a run to clear my head.
Running has always been cathartic for me, and this time is no different. I find my rhythm after about eight minutes, and that's when I allow thoughts to pop into my head, and then leave with the next breath. It's almost like meditation for me—letting things go as I exhale. I don't try to solve problems when I run, but I always come back a bit more energized to tackle whatever issue I'm facing.
I take a quick shower, grab something to eat at the dining hall with Polly and Brit, and then walk to the library to finish my paper. On my walk, I call Alex and relay what my dad said about the graduation dinner.
"It's no big deal, babe," she says. "You can come to my hotel after dinner. We'll have our own little celebration." I picture her smirking with a cocked eyebrow.
"Are you sure?" I want Alex to join my family for dinner, but it would probably be uncomfortable for her. "I can refuse to go."
"Don't," she replies. "You need your parents to pay for graduate school. If you piss them off, they might pull the plug."
I lower my eyes. "I feel like I'm using them."
"I'm sorry you're in this position, Piper. Hopefully they'll be more accepting of our relationship in the future, but for now, you're going to have to play by their rules," Alex responds. "I know it sucks, but it's what's best for now."
I nod, knowing she's right, and then change the topic. "How was your day?"
She fills me in on her day at work and her lunch with co-workers. I don't feel a ton better about agreeing to dinner with my family, but at least I know Alex's position on the matter. If I detected even a hint of resentment, I would've called the whole thing off. Nevertheless, I do feel like I'm using my parents to get them to support me financially. Maybe that's something I need to examine closer. Tomorrow, I'll research student loans, but for now, I have to finish the last three pages of my paper.
Graduation day is here before I know it, and as it turns out, my parents and brother are staying at the same hotel as Alex. I don't tell them about the coincidence, but Alex finds it mildly amusing.
I stick my hands on my hips. "What if they're in the room next door?"
"Then we hope the walls are thick?" I'm glad she finds this funny.
"Alex, I'm not having sex with you if my parents are in the room next to us!"
"Oh, come on!" She sits on the bed. "Don't you find even a little humor in this?"
"No." I shake my head. "I don't."
"You're no fun," she huffs. "Text Cal to find out what room they're in."
I pull out my phone and text my brother. It must suck for him to have to share a room with my parents, but the hotel has been sold out for months because of graduation festivities.
Alex and I have stayed at The Ellery Hotel every other week since she moved from Charlton. This time will be no different, but I don't want to run into my parents. They'll probably hang out in the hotel bar, where Alex and I typically have cocktails after dinner, but that's not going to happen tonight.
"Do you have plans with them later today?" she asks, hoisting her bag onto the luggage rack.
"No," I respond. "I'll meet them in the hotel restaurant for breakfast in the morning."
She smirks. "Little do they know you're staying three floors above the restaurant."
"And they never will find out." I feel my phone vibrate. "Cal responded—They're in 408. Wait, that's this floor! What room are we in?" I search for the small cardkey envelope.
"416," she replies.
I crease my brows. "They're just on the other side of the elevator?!"
"At least they're not next door." She shrugs nonchalantly. "Relax, babe. When we leave the room, I'll exit first and call the elevator. You can come out a few seconds later. They're not going to know you're staying here."
"I don't know how you can be so calm."
"What's the worst that could happen if they find out?" she asks.
"They'll know I'm staying with you," I try.
"And?"
"And it'll be super awkward."
"So, the worst that could possibly happen is that you'll have an awkward moment with your parents?" Alex stands and takes my hands. "Isn't this whole graduation weekend going to be awkward with me here?"
I glance away. "Yes."
She places her right hand on my cheek. "It can't get much worse than it already is."
"I'm ready for the whole weekend to be over," I complain. "But then that means we're apart again and that I have to move back home for two weeks."
"Time is going to fly by after graduation." She pulls me into her arms. "Before you know it, you'll be back at the treatment center down the road, working as the Lead Youth Residential Counselor. That's something to look forward to, right?"
I nod. "I don't know how I'm going to survive two weeks at home though."
Alex lips fall onto my forehead. "Somehow, I think you'll manage."
We sneak out of the hotel at around 7 o'clock that night to have dinner in the next town over. There's no way my parents will travel to Hatfield for dinner. I made up some excuse about eating with my Smith friends in the dining hall one last time, so my dad didn't pressure me to join them tonight. My guess is they'll eat around 6 or 6:30, go back to the hotel bar to have a drink, and then be in their room by nine o'clock. My plan is to stay out with Alex until after 10 p.m. to avoid them altogether.
On the day of Piper's graduation, she has an early breakfast with her family, and then heads to campus for the ceremony. As I exit our room just after noon, the thing that I didn't think would happen does: I run smack dab into her parents.
Cal is the first to greet me. "Alex? Hey!"
I give him a perfunctory wave. "Hey."
Piper's parents glare at me for a moment before looking away.
Cal shoves his hands into his pockets. "Going to the graduation ceremony?"
"Yeah." I smile at them even though their eyes are anywhere but on me. "Hi, Bill and Carol."
They don't even have the decency to wave much less say hello.
"I would ask if you wanted a ride, but…" He glances at his parents and shrugs.
"It's ok. I have an errand to run beforehand. Maybe I'll see you later."
"Cool."
I decide to take the stairs to the first floor rather than ride in the elevator with them. It's not that I'm letting them have the upper hand, but I'd rather not experience the awkwardness that's sure to follow as the elevator slowly makes its way down. The last time I rode in one with Bill Chapman was one of the worst days of my life.
The ceremony is two hours long, and other than the prolific graduation speaker, it's boring as fuck. I stand and cheer when they call Piper's name, and then I make my way to the side of the stage with the throngs of people who are eager to hug their graduate.
Piper finally comes out 10 minutes later, and I hand her a bouquet of flowers. "Congratulations, babe!"
"Thank you!" She hugs me with a huge smile. "Let's get a picture."
She hands her phone to the man next to me, and he snaps our photograph.
"Send it to me," I say.
"I will." She puts her phone away. "Have you seen my family?"
"Yeah." I adjust my glasses. "I ran into them in the hallway of the hotel."
"You did?" Her eyes pop open. "I told you!"
I lift my shoulders. "You weren't with me, so it wasn't a big deal."
"I don't know how I'm going to sneak into your room tonight after dinner with them," she responds. "Maybe I should just spend the night in my house."
"You could do that."
A few of her friends call her over for pictures.
"I should go," she says, kissing me on the cheek. "Thank you for coming, Al."
"Yeah." I watch her walk away.
This day, hell this weekend, should be about Piper, but I can't shake the feeling that I don't belong.
That evening, Piper texts me from the bathroom at dinner, saying that the food is decent, but the company is terrible. Her only saving grace is that Cal is there to make the situation lighter. She ends up taking the stairs to my room late that night so she doesn't run into her parents. Although it's always hard saying goodbye, I'll be thankful this is the last time we'll have to dodge her parents like teenagers. I'm way too old for this.
Summer goes by in a flash just as expected, and Piper purchases a one-way ticket to San Diego. I can't meet her down there immediately due to my commitment at a clinic in Little Rock. It's probably better this way so she can get the lay of the land on her own. Classes at UCSD begin the Monday before I arrive, but her on-campus job in the writing center starts next week as freshmen orientation gets underway.
I'm not thrilled that I'm staying with her in the dorm without consent from the administration, but I don't want to sign even a six-month lease without having a job here. Piper tried to arrange married couple/domestic partner housing, but without proof that we're legally a couple, that didn't fly. She assured me that graduate school housing is like living off campus and that no one will know I'm staying there permanently, but it still makes me uncomfortable. (I'm also not fond of the word permanently when it refers to living in a fucking dorm room.)
I still don't have a job in San Diego, and the logistics coordinator at my company isn't sure something will pop up in the near future. I've already told them about my plan to move there regardless of a placement, and they're prepared to give me up to six weeks of the vacation days I've earned over the years. Since I was old enough to legally do so, there's never been a time in my life when I didn't work. The thought of sitting on my ass all day is unappealing, so I've considered taking a menial job not only to make money, but also to stay busy until something in my field comes up.
After my stint in Little Rock is up the first week of September, I pack my belongings and get ready for my move across the country. I zip the first of two suitcases when my phone rings.
"One more day," she says through what I'm sure is a wide smile.
"Hey." I hear waves crashing.
"Are you finished packing?"
"Just about," I respond. "Are you at the beach?"
"Yeah," she answers. "I'm checking out all the local beaches that I can bike or walk to. This one is about a mile and a half away from campus."
"Not bad."
"It reminds me of the beach in Dana Point."
I smile. "That was a good beach."
"It was," she replies. "I'm going to meet you at the airport tomorrow."
I hoist my suitcase onto the floor. "You don't have to do that."
"I want to," she says. "It'll be our first day together for what I hope will be a long time."
Piper and I haven't spoken about forever, but I sure as hell think about forever with her.
"I'll see you tomorrow at 3:30," she says. "Can't wait!"
"See you then."
There's no question I want to live with Piper and not have to worry about driving away after a few days; I only hope a job opens soon so I feel more at ease.
I'm so excited about Alex's arrival that I hardly slept last night. I attend my one class today and work a few hours in the writing center, which helps take my mind off the clock, but as soon as my shift is over, all thoughts turn to Alex. I tidy up what will soon be our room before making my way to the airport an hour prior to her scheduled landing time.
I know Alex is anxious about not having a job, but I hope she's confident in her decision to move to San Diego. The first couple of weeks might feel like vacation, but if she doesn't have any leads after that, she's going to get restless. The last thing I want is for her to take another placement that sends her hundreds if not thousands of miles away again. I'm ready to build a life with her, starting now.
I twist my fingers together and anxiously wait for her to enter the baggage claim area just before four o'clock. When I see her coming down the escalator my heart flips in my chest.
She jogs down the last four or five steps, then throws her arms around me, letting a duffle bag fall to the floor. "Hey, babe."
"I can't believe you're really here," I whisper against her neck.
She pulls back, kisses me on the lips, and then squeezes my hands. "I'm here."
We collect her two suitcases in baggage claim, and then take an Uber to campus. I've FaceTimed with Alex pretty much every day, so she has a general sense of the dorm room, but I hold my breath as she steps inside.
"Not terrible, right?" I ask.
She sets a bag down. "No."
Although the furniture is cheap, cookie-cutter dorm stuff, I've tried to brighten up the place with colorful throw pillows on the sofa, a few pictures hanging on the walls, and a multi-colored comforter on our bed. I even bought a bright blue runner to cover the old, worn coffee table.
"I like the pops of color," she says.
"It's a start," I reply. "I'm hoping you can add a few things to brighten it up." I walk over to the window and point. "If you look in the distance, you can see the beach."
"The very definition of a peek-a-boo view." She glances outside, then turns back to me with a long sigh. "I can't believe I'm living in a college dormitory—illegally, I might add."
"You've always said you missed out on that part of the college experience." I shrug. "And no one will know you're staying here. It's not the same as underclassmen housing that has a resident assistant, checking the rooms every night."
"Still, we're breaking the rules."
I know when Alex was younger, she broke the rules all the time. Hell, she went to prison for not only breaking rules, but for breaking the law. It can't bother her that much that we're shacking up without permission. She's uneasy and edgy—that much is certain.
"Let's focus on the fact that you and I are in the same room." I kiss the corner of her mouth. "And neither of us has to leave in two or three days."
That seems to satisfy her. She places her hand on the back of my head and deepens the kiss.
I've missed everything about Alex, but the mind-blowing sex is in the top three things I missed most. We fall asleep shortly after a round of sex, and it isn't until nearly eight o'clock when we wake up and do something productive. We spend the next hour, chatting about my classes and my job while I help her unpack.
As suspected, the first two weeks of our time together in San Diego are amazing. She spends much of her days researching job opportunities, but she doesn't complain about not finding any leads. She explores the city while I'm in class and almost always cooks dinner for the two of us. Although the meals are pretty standard fare with no more than five ingredients, I'm grateful for a home cooked meal that I get to share with her.
My four grad school classes are interesting, and I love being able to talk to Alex about the things I learn. Oftentimes she recalls a college lecture on a particular subject and tells me stories about how she applied what she learned in her clinical life.
It isn't until week three when Alex's agitation becomes increasingly conspicuous. One day, I get home a little after 4 p.m., and she's drinking. Alex is not a drinker. She enjoys a glass of wine with dinner or a couple of beers in the evening, but I've never seen her drunk. Not that she's drunk when I arrive at our room, but she's sipping tequila with rock music blaring and the window wide open.
"Hi, Al." I walk over to the speaker to lower the volume. "Having a party by yourself?"
"Hey." She rests her foot on the coffee table. "I didn't expect you home for another hour."
"I don't work at the writing lab on Wednesday afternoons." I hook my bag over the back of a stool. "You know that."
"Oh." She sips tequila. "I forgot what day of the week it was."
I sit in the armchair across from her and try to keep judgement out of my tone. "How many of those have you had?"
"No idea." She gets to her feet and moves to the kitchen. "Do we have any limes? I don't know how I'm drinking tequila without a lime. It's a sacrilege."
I pick up the bottle and tilt it to the side. As I recall, we used maybe a cup of this Espolòn to make margaritas last weekend. Judging by the contents remaining in the bottle, she's had at least two glasses. There's no mixer in sight, so I presume she's drinking it straight.
She opens the refrigerator, then a cabinet in search of limes that we don't have. "I guess a lemon will have to do."
I watch her slice the yellow flesh. "Bad day?"
"Want one?" she asks, avoiding my question. "I'll bring a glass." She returns to her spot on the sofa with a glass for me and a plate of lemon wedges. "Citrus is citrus, right?"
I decide to try a different tactic. "Are we celebrating something?"
"Sure. Why not?" Alex pours tequila in my glass and tops off her own glass. "Let's celebrate three weeks of living together."
"I'll drink to that." I clink my glass against hers, but this is not a celebration; I know her better than that.
She takes a healthy swig and winces as it goes down. "Whoo!" With the back of her hand, she wipes a drop that trickles down her chin. "How was your day?"
"It was good." I'll play along for now. "Especially my cognitive neuroscience class. The lecture was on perception and memory."
"Mmm."
"I learned that while our sensory receptors are constantly collecting information from the environment, it's ultimately how we interpret that information that affects how we interact with the world," I offer.
She balances the glass on her knee. "What's your perception of me?"
I blink a couple of times before responding, "Generally speaking or at this moment?"
She shrugs. "Right now."
"That you're struggling with something you don't want to share," I begin. "I'm guessing you want to get drunk so we don't have to discuss whatever it is tonight."
She takes a sip and blanches again. "You don't need a grad school course on perception, babe."
I set my glass on the coffee table without having taken a drink. "You're upset that you don't have a job."
Alex lifts one of her fingers off the glass and points at me. "You're perceptive as fuck."
I ache for her. "I don't know how to help you, Al."
"You can't." She lifts her shoulders. "This is on me."
"What can I do to make things better?"
She takes yet another swig before glancing my way. "Let me take a job with my company even if it's in another state."
"You just got here," I try. "We agreed to give it six weeks before you'd resort to moving again."
"That's not what I agreed to." She points a thumb to her chest. "I told you I have six weeks of vacation, and if that ran out, I'd have to either quit my job or get another one."
I shake my head. "It's only been three!"
"I can't live like this!" She blurts out. "I'm bored out of my fucking mind! I don't even know what day it is—they all fucking blend together!"
I know this isn't going to be met with agreement, but I give it a shot anyway. "Then get a job! I told you they're hiring non-UCSD students in the bookstore."
"I'm a licensed therapist!" she replies loudly. "I'm not going to take a minimum wage job just so I can live with my girlfriend! Maybe if I were your age that would be fine, but I'm in my mid fucking 30s!"
That stings. I look away and try not to blink as I'm worried a tear might drip down my cheek.
Alex lets out a long breath. "I love you, Piper, but I can't do this much longer."
"This was always the plan." My eyes finally land on hers. "You'd move wherever I ended up so we could be together for the first time in our lives. How could you go back on that?"
"I don't want to go back on it!" She stands. "I want to be with you. I want to live with you, but not at the expense of my…my quality of life."
I raise my brows. "So, a minimum wage job is beneath you?"
"It's not…" she trails off with a firm head shake, then tries again. "Tell you what…" she picks up her glass and takes another swig. "I'll apply for that job at the bookstore and maybe even the one at the Starbucks down the street. Would that make you happy?"
"Would it make you happy?"
"No!" She spins around. "None of this makes me happy!" She pauses before adding, "One of us is bound to be the selfish one. There's no way around it."
Alex is right—if she stays in San Diego and gets an hourly job, I'm the selfish one for 'making' her stay. If she leaves to take a therapist job in another part of the country, she's the selfish one for not sticking it out. It's a lose/lose situation.
"Can you just wait it out another couple of weeks?" I ask.
"Then what?" she asks. "I'll have used five of my six weeks of vacation. How does that solve anything?"
"Maybe a therapist job will open up in the county or your company will find a placement for you here," I try. "We won't know if you just leave."
"Fine." She plops onto the sofa. "I'll wait."
Alex sounds defeated, and it's killing me. I don't want to feel like I'm holding her hostage, but isn't this what we agreed upon over the last year? Surely, I didn't misunderstand our plan.
"You wanna keep drinking?" I ask tentatively.
"Not really." She stares at her now empty glass. "I knew it wouldn't help, but…"
I tilt my head. "But what?"
She shrugs. "It sounded good an hour ago."
I sit next to her on the couch. "I've never seen you drunk."
She lets out a small laugh. "You're not missing anything."
I take her hand, caressing the back of it with my thumb. "We're going to get past this, Al."
"I hope you're right." She pulls my hand onto her lap, but her smile is faint and hopeless.
Now I'm really concerned.
Author's Note: I covered a lot of ground in this chapter, so thank you for bearing with me. Many of you guessed it: there had to be angst. It's been creeping into the story here and there, but this chapter marked a point where the rubber met the road with Alex's move to San Diego. More to come soon...
