"What?" Will's angry voice filtered through the receiver.
Sydney winced. "Look. I can handle it. I guess . . . In a way, I was using him too."
"S - um, Lily, come on. Patrick is a bastard, and you know it. So now, the question is, why are you going to dinner at his house again?"
Sighing, Sydney glanced down at her watch. 6:45. Patrick was coming to pick her up in fifteen minutes.
"You know, just because their son is a "bastard" doesn't mean that they themselves should be cast aside because of it."
"You are way too nice for your own good," Will groaned.
"Damn," Sydney breathed. "I gotta go. I'll talk to you later, k? Tell Fran that I love her."
"Will do. And don't forget, we love you too. And dump that good for nothing son of a bitch," Will instructed.
"All right. Bye!" Sydney said with a laugh.
--
"Wow . . . you look stunning," Patrick smiled, opening the car door for her.
"Thanks," Sydney replied. "But you just saw me in these clothes in the morning . . ."
"Are you sure? You look different for some reason," Patrick responded, studying her.
It's your guilt talking, Sydney thought, half-snickering. "Yeah. I'm sure."
"Well, all right then. I hope you like Italian food," Patrick started, driving down the street.
"I love it," Sydney said. "Is that what we're eating for dinner?"
He nodded. "My father insisted on cooking when he found out you were coming."
"Didn't you say your parents wanted me to come?" Sydney asked suspiciously, narrowing her brown eyes slightly.
"Uh, yes I did as a matter of fact. But they weren't sure you were actually going to come. They know how we "kids" these days don't like spending time with parents and stuff," Patrick responded, not taking his eyes off the road.
Sydney nodded, and leaned back in the leather seat.
--
"So, Lily . . . before we go in, I have to ask you something. I hope I don't sound too abrupt or even rude, but I have to ask," Patrick began, leading her onto the porch.
"What is it?"
"I've been curious ever since you've brought it up the last time you were here," he started. "Who was your fiance?"
"My - my fiance?" Sydney stammered, caught off guard.
He nodded. "You mentioned him the last -"
"I know. He . . . his name was David. David Jones."
"If this is too hard for you, you don't have to answer this, but I want to know everything," Patrick sighed, leaning on the railing.
"Oh, no, it um, it's not - I mean, it's been a while now, but wow. You kinda caught me off guard. Um, just ask any questions I guess."
"How did you two meet?"
"It was at college. He was a pre-med student. I, being the klutz I am, tripped on the curb, and ended up in the university hospital. He was my doctor," Sydney responded, wiping the hair off her face.
"How, how did he die?"
"He was driving down the street - actually, he was just leaving my house that night. It was raining, and his car slipped and crashed into a tree," Sydney said hesitantly, looking away.
--
"What took you two so long?" Nancy questioned, closing the door behind them.
"We got stuck in traffic," Patrick said quickly, glancing at Sydney quickly.
Sydney nodded and smiled when Nancy turned to look at her. But inside, she was thinking, he needs to brush up on his lying skills. . .
Nancy sighed. "There are way too many vehicles on the road these days . . . Well! Get settled, watch some TV, talk, and I'll be right back."
"Why couldn't you just tell her what we were doing?" Sydney asked, following Patrick into the living room.
"Because."
"Because what?"
Patrick looked around uncomfortably. "She told me not to ask - but I was curious."
"Oh, I know all about you intellectuals, curious about everything," Sydney responded, expertly adding a slight sarcastic tone to her voice to disguise her true thoughts.
"Well, you're a so-called intellectual too."
And with that, Patrick grabbed her hand after they sat down on the sofa. "I'm sorry if I was out of line before, when we were outside. . ."
"Oh, no, it's fine," Sydney replied. A feeling she never thought she'd feel again rose up in her body. The same feeling she got whenever Sloane put his hand on her shoulder. The feeling of disgust. I didn't come this far to revert back to my old ways, did I?
--
"That son of a bitch," Sydney sighed into the phone.
"If you say that, then why don't you break up with him?" Terri asked nonchalantly.
"Because. I'm not letting him off the hook. No one cheats on me and plans to get away with it. Do I sound threatening?" Sydney laughed. "Good. I plan to be just that. And hey, I mean, why give him the pleasure of being able to be seen around in the public with "Gabriella" when I could make him miserable? OK. I'm kidding about making him miserable."
"Why? Make him miserable. That guy has it coming."
"If he wants to, he can break up with me. I'm perfectly capable of taking it. But, it's his problem if he doesn't," Sydney grinned.
"You sound like you have a plan up your sleeve," Terri commented.
"Maybe I do. Or maybe I don't. I don't know . . ."
"Well, we got class tomorrow," Terri responded. "I hope you've been practicing . . . I'd love to see you kick the shit out of our wonderous teacher."
Sydney laughed. "In due time . . . Wait, hold on a sec. Someone's calling the other line."
"Hello?" Sydney asked, listening to the static on the other end.
"You're in trouble."
"Va - what kind of trouble?" Sydney asked cautiously. Her joking nature had dissolved in seconds.
"There's a van by the corner waiting for you. It's standard. He's in your neighborhood."
Sydney winced. "Look. I can handle it. I guess . . . In a way, I was using him too."
"S - um, Lily, come on. Patrick is a bastard, and you know it. So now, the question is, why are you going to dinner at his house again?"
Sighing, Sydney glanced down at her watch. 6:45. Patrick was coming to pick her up in fifteen minutes.
"You know, just because their son is a "bastard" doesn't mean that they themselves should be cast aside because of it."
"You are way too nice for your own good," Will groaned.
"Damn," Sydney breathed. "I gotta go. I'll talk to you later, k? Tell Fran that I love her."
"Will do. And don't forget, we love you too. And dump that good for nothing son of a bitch," Will instructed.
"All right. Bye!" Sydney said with a laugh.
--
"Wow . . . you look stunning," Patrick smiled, opening the car door for her.
"Thanks," Sydney replied. "But you just saw me in these clothes in the morning . . ."
"Are you sure? You look different for some reason," Patrick responded, studying her.
It's your guilt talking, Sydney thought, half-snickering. "Yeah. I'm sure."
"Well, all right then. I hope you like Italian food," Patrick started, driving down the street.
"I love it," Sydney said. "Is that what we're eating for dinner?"
He nodded. "My father insisted on cooking when he found out you were coming."
"Didn't you say your parents wanted me to come?" Sydney asked suspiciously, narrowing her brown eyes slightly.
"Uh, yes I did as a matter of fact. But they weren't sure you were actually going to come. They know how we "kids" these days don't like spending time with parents and stuff," Patrick responded, not taking his eyes off the road.
Sydney nodded, and leaned back in the leather seat.
--
"So, Lily . . . before we go in, I have to ask you something. I hope I don't sound too abrupt or even rude, but I have to ask," Patrick began, leading her onto the porch.
"What is it?"
"I've been curious ever since you've brought it up the last time you were here," he started. "Who was your fiance?"
"My - my fiance?" Sydney stammered, caught off guard.
He nodded. "You mentioned him the last -"
"I know. He . . . his name was David. David Jones."
"If this is too hard for you, you don't have to answer this, but I want to know everything," Patrick sighed, leaning on the railing.
"Oh, no, it um, it's not - I mean, it's been a while now, but wow. You kinda caught me off guard. Um, just ask any questions I guess."
"How did you two meet?"
"It was at college. He was a pre-med student. I, being the klutz I am, tripped on the curb, and ended up in the university hospital. He was my doctor," Sydney responded, wiping the hair off her face.
"How, how did he die?"
"He was driving down the street - actually, he was just leaving my house that night. It was raining, and his car slipped and crashed into a tree," Sydney said hesitantly, looking away.
--
"What took you two so long?" Nancy questioned, closing the door behind them.
"We got stuck in traffic," Patrick said quickly, glancing at Sydney quickly.
Sydney nodded and smiled when Nancy turned to look at her. But inside, she was thinking, he needs to brush up on his lying skills. . .
Nancy sighed. "There are way too many vehicles on the road these days . . . Well! Get settled, watch some TV, talk, and I'll be right back."
"Why couldn't you just tell her what we were doing?" Sydney asked, following Patrick into the living room.
"Because."
"Because what?"
Patrick looked around uncomfortably. "She told me not to ask - but I was curious."
"Oh, I know all about you intellectuals, curious about everything," Sydney responded, expertly adding a slight sarcastic tone to her voice to disguise her true thoughts.
"Well, you're a so-called intellectual too."
And with that, Patrick grabbed her hand after they sat down on the sofa. "I'm sorry if I was out of line before, when we were outside. . ."
"Oh, no, it's fine," Sydney replied. A feeling she never thought she'd feel again rose up in her body. The same feeling she got whenever Sloane put his hand on her shoulder. The feeling of disgust. I didn't come this far to revert back to my old ways, did I?
--
"That son of a bitch," Sydney sighed into the phone.
"If you say that, then why don't you break up with him?" Terri asked nonchalantly.
"Because. I'm not letting him off the hook. No one cheats on me and plans to get away with it. Do I sound threatening?" Sydney laughed. "Good. I plan to be just that. And hey, I mean, why give him the pleasure of being able to be seen around in the public with "Gabriella" when I could make him miserable? OK. I'm kidding about making him miserable."
"Why? Make him miserable. That guy has it coming."
"If he wants to, he can break up with me. I'm perfectly capable of taking it. But, it's his problem if he doesn't," Sydney grinned.
"You sound like you have a plan up your sleeve," Terri commented.
"Maybe I do. Or maybe I don't. I don't know . . ."
"Well, we got class tomorrow," Terri responded. "I hope you've been practicing . . . I'd love to see you kick the shit out of our wonderous teacher."
Sydney laughed. "In due time . . . Wait, hold on a sec. Someone's calling the other line."
"Hello?" Sydney asked, listening to the static on the other end.
"You're in trouble."
"Va - what kind of trouble?" Sydney asked cautiously. Her joking nature had dissolved in seconds.
"There's a van by the corner waiting for you. It's standard. He's in your neighborhood."
