Palo Alto, June 2009

"Now that we're going to graduate, what should we do?" Bradley Sharp, a stocky young man with a blonde buzzcut asked his roommate for the past four years. He was going to miss this guy. "Score some chicks?"

"Ha ha. As if you don't do that on a regular basis already," Thad replied.

"I try to fill my monthly quota."

Thad snorted.

They were packing up their things into moving boxes. It was so strange how four years worth of memories could fit into pieces of cardboard. Brad and Thad they'd been called, like some comedic duo from the 50s. They did pull some huge pranks to earn their goofball reputations but they were also financial wizards with jobs in famous firms waiting for them when they graduate.

He watched Thaddeus fold his comforter as he opened another beer.

"It's going to suck not seeing you everyday, man," he admitted.

"Aww, you're going to make me cry," his roomie teased. He tossed a Stanford sweater into the bin. "Don't be a drama queen. Our offices are a building away from each other. We're going to be forced to have lunch all the time then you'll be regretting how much you see me,"

Brad smiled. In Thaddeus, he found a lifelong friend. They bonded over the fact that they were both dorks growing up and were such late bloomers. They also loved running and had been constantly beating each other's records at the track. He shared with him that he was there on scholarship since he came from a poor household with a deadbeat dad and a mother who ran away when she regained some sense.

Thaddeus didn't judge him like some of their rich friends did. However, as much as Thad knew about him, Brad didn't know much about his roommate. Oh, mundane and shallow things like favourite foods and sports teams he was aware of but stuff about his home and things that were real personal, Thaddeus kept inside. It was frustrating especially when his roommate get into one of his moods, ones that kept him in the gym hammering away at a punching bag relentlessly. Whenever Thad was having an episode like that, it was best to steer clear. He's asked him to share before but the guy always clams up when they get too deep.

All that Brad knew was that there was a girl from back home. Judging from his friend's behaviour, she did a number on him. Even after all these years, his boy was still hung up on her. He dated, sure. However, no one really stuck around for more than a month, two months tops. They were all blondes too. One thing was for sure, after Brad did a quick Google search some time ago, his dream girl was dark-haired.

"So, is Rhonda coming for graduation?" he asked cautiously.

His friend's head whipped up so fast he wondered is he got whiplash.

"I don't think so. Why are you asking? Jeez, is this one of those heart to heart sessions again? Sometimes, I feel like you're in the wrong business. You should be a shrink with all your nosey questions. You'd be perfect for it."

Brad felt kind of sorry for his friend. Locking up your emotions doesn't seem like the way to live a happy life.

"Whoa! I ask one question and your defences are up. When are you going to let it go, man?"

Thaddeus sighed. He stood up to carry a box or stationery into their cupboard.

"You're right. I'm sorry. It's just… I don't really like talking about her."

Brad took another sip of beer. He grabbed a can and tossed one at Thad. He caught it effortlessly. He popped it open and it gave a hiss as the air escaped. The man took a huge gulp before coming back to sit on the edge of his bed.

"That's why you should. Let it out. Are you still in contact with her?"

"No. Not really. I've seen her around when I go back home." Thaddeus gave a noncommittal shrug, his eyes were on a black box that had been delivered recently. His friend had set it aside at the foot of his bed and had left it untouched for five days.

"She sent that, didn't she?" Brad asked, his curiosity piqued.

"She said I should wear it for graduation."

"What are they? Are they shoes."

His friend nodded.

"I'm not wearing them. I'm sending them back."

"Why?"

"Because they're extremely expensive."

"Dude, you should not only wear it but keep it."

Thad gave some sort of grimace as if the thought disgusted him. It made sense to Brad. His friend never liked odious displays of wealth. Brad knew he came from money. Or at least from his mother's side but it's almost as if he's ashamed of it. Brad suspected that even his childhood buddies had no clue. Thaddeus didn't like to reveal that he knew high fashion or could order without the menu at a Michelin Star restaurant. His humility was one of the reasons they remained friends. Brad would have never known about his wealth if they hadn't spent a summer in Italy at one of his aunt's villa.

"What brand is it?"

"They're Testoni. Dress shoes."

Brad gave him a blank look. "The fact that I don't know that name makes me think it's exceedingly high-priced."

"It is," he said, pained. "It's from Italy."

So, this Rhonda was thoughtful and generous. Interesting.

Brad also knew she was an heiress to a massive fortune, from both sides of the family. It was one of the things that came up in his internet search. He could still see her sitting on a wooden chaise in a long red dress. The background was a sprawling green lawn with massive stone fountains. It was a fashion editorial featured with an article about America's young elite. In the other photos, she stood tall and proud like an Amazon with sharp features and intelligent hazel eyes, her black hair whipping behind her in the wind. In those shots, she was wearing a lemon sundress beside the pool.

It was amazing that a girl from such a wealthy upbringing was allowed to go to public school and not the private education her kind usually received. An interesting choice her parents had made, Brad thought at the time.

"Just keep it. You'll offend her if you send it back."

"Even if I don't intend to wear it?"

"What's the big deal? Just use them."

"They are like $30,000 a pop."

Brad's eyes widened and he leaned forward. "Holy shit! Why aren't you selling them on eBay right now?"

Thaddeus, caught by surprise, laughed loudly.

"I can't say it hasn't crossed my mind."

There was a moment of silence between them. Brad knew he had to say something. It's been too long that this tension between them whenever Rhonda was mentioned erupted. Something had to be done.

"Do you still like her?"

"What?"

"Do you still like her?" Brad repeated.

Thaddeus looked insulted. He was shaking his head. "I must be a glutton for punishment if I still do. I haven't thought of her in years. Well, not since she sent those shoes."

Brad knew that was such a lie.

"I think you still do."

His friends mouth was set in a grim line. "Rhonda's in the past."

"Why not place her in the future as well?"

Thaddeus laughed bitterly. "I fucked up, okay? I don't think she'll be quick to forgive me after what happened."

Brad was now even more curious. "What happened?"

There was a long suffering sigh followed by a cluck of the tongue. He was hesitating whether he should share the story. He laid down on his bed and looked up at the ceiling as if trying to remember.

"It was about three years ago. When we met in Italy. We lived together for a while."

"I didn't knew you guys were that serious."

"No, we weren't. It happened by accident…"

Then, Thaddeus proceeded to tell him everything from the very beginning. It took almost an hour to tell the story and Brad listened with rapt attention, cutting in whenever he had a question. By the end of the it, he wanted to shake his friend for being such an idiot.

"Why did you do that?" he asked. "Why the fuck would you do that?"

Thaddeus was at a loss for word. He glanced at his friend and shrugged. "Until now I haven't figured it out. I was just–"

"Chicken. Chicken shit."

"There is that."

Brad started to put the pieces together. They had finished all the beer. He got up to get the big bag of Cheetos he bought earlier in the week. It felt good to know that after all this time, Thaddeus had trusted him enough to share something so important and private about himself.

Not that Brad would ever say that aloud. He wasn't an idiot. Men just don't discuss those kinds of things. They didn't like appearing weak or vulnerable. But even he had the emotional capacity and innate understanding that Thaddeus, when it comes to Rhonda, liked to pretend that he doesn't care because she was one of his biggest weaknesses. Brad imagined that Thaddeus had done some pretty stupid shit in the past all for that girl.

"I have a theory."

"Oh, this I got to hear," Thad said drily.

"I think it's because you don't think you're enough for her."

Thaddeus bolted upright. "What? That's ridiculous."

Brad grinned at him smugly. He knew he had pinpointed the problem.

"You have some hangup that she's better than you."

He opened the Cheetos bag and dipped his hand inside to grab a fistful. He stuffed the orange puffs in his mouth.

"She's not! She's a snotty, conceited, arrogant snob."

"From what you told me about her, I don't sense that at all," he mumbled. It was hard to talk with a mouthful of delicious factory orange.

"Well, you haven't met her and you didn't go to school with her. She was insufferable. Especially in high school."

Brad gulped down the snack.

"Did she ever look down on people who weren't as rich as her?" he pointed out.

That made Thaddeus pause. He seemed to be reeling through years of memories.

"Not since we were children. She was never–she was never high-handed about being rich. She never rubbed it in people's faces not unless it was in a self-deprecating manner."

Brad understood. He was starting to get a clearer picture of Rhonda Lloyd and why his friend fell in love with her a long time ago.

"There you have it. You both share a shame for being born with a silver spoon. Although her spoon is probably encrusted in diamonds."

"I'm not ashamed."

"Well, not ashamed but embarrassed maybe. It's because you don't like making people feel bad."

His friend blinked at him. "You should really be a shrink."

"I'm just intuitive and astute."

Thaddeus smiled. "Kind of like Rhonda."

"Don't start getting any ideas. I'm not into men."

His roommate threw a pillow at his face. Brad quickly shielded his bag of Cheetos.

"Hey! This is the only bag I have left."

"See if I care."

"You want my advice?" Brad asked.

"No," Thaddeus snapped.

"Wear the shoes."

"Why?"

"I think it would be an insult to her not to. She obviously extended a sign of affection even when you're the one who acted like an ass years ago."

He noticed his friend's face growing red in shame.

"I know."

"Wear them and then call her. She obviously wants you to contact her if she's giving you $30,000 shoes," Brad concluded, still not finished with his snack. "Then tell her about your awesome best friend whose shoes are getting kind of old."

Thaddeus groaned. "Why did I ever get stuck with you for a roommate?"

"Dude, we're Brad and Thad. It's meant to be," he gave his friend a pat on the leg. He gave a slight kick in response. "It's meant to be."

"Kill me now."

Author's note: A big thank you to all the reviewers of this story especially Sandra Strickland, endlessbleed01, and Hanna Cabrodi. You guys are awesome and you make me want to tell a better story every day. Also, since I live in Singapore, most of the stuff about American culture and the lifestyles of the rich is purely through research (thank God for the internet) so if there are any discrepancies, blame my ignorance and lack of travel. It's been such fun writing this fic because I really need to research about each city I feature in a chapter. Read about the local weather and look at the images for physical description. It's been great fun and a wonderful learning experience. The whole Rome segment increased my desire to go to Italy.

Anyway, more chapters to come. I wouldn't be surprised if it reaches twenty.