I shrug. “I haven’t met anyone I could see a future with.”
Hope splutters a laugh and motions at LJ’s table. “You have a real-life Prince Charming waiting to put a ring on your finger.”
My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth, almost gagging on the thought. “There’s nothing charming about LJ’s game.”
“Just get over it,” Hope says. “I can already see the multi-page magazine spread about you and LJ, your fabulous life, and all your children.”
“Whoa.” I scoff. “How far into the future do you daydream?”
Hope snaps her fingers at me. “We can all see a future for you and LJ. Why can’t you?”
I sit back in my seat as our server asks for our meal orders. Unfortunately, I’m not surprised by my friends’ attitudes. Even when they have boyfriends of their own, they constantly remind me of their jealousy. How they’d die for an LJ-type to vie for their attention. They’re convinced I’m playing a big game, waiting for LJ to promise me more for our future.
I wish, just once, someone would believe I’m not interested in that future. I’ve seen where it leads. My parents rarely speak to each other, and when they do, it’s on a video call in the middle of the night that’s ninety percent arguments.
Halfway through dinner, the conversation leaves school gossip and returns to me.
Hope clears her throat, leaning in. “Is the reason you’re pushing LJ away because you’re still hung up on your tutor?”
I drop my fork, letting it clank against the china plate.
Sylvie giggles. “Look at her. Oh my gosh, Ness, you’re going red.”
From anger, not from embarrassment.
“Aww,” Hope coos. “She misses him.”
I pick up my fork, muttering, “Just drop it.”
“All I wanted to say,” Hope whispers, “is that I get why you’re standoffish. You’re hung up on a guy you can’t be with. Your mother didn’t approve, right?”
My back tightens, and I keep my focus on my dinner plate. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
A hush falls over the table, and the sound of chewing takes over the airspace. Soon, Sylvie and Hope steer the conversation back to school gossip, but I’m checked out. I don’t even remember where this silly rumor about me and my tutor started. But compared to what really happened while I was in Switzerland, it’s better I don’t deny their speculation.
Six
BeforeIexplodefromthe onslaught of gossip, I excuse myself from the table. Ensuring the girls don’t follow, I tell them I’m leaving to speak with Mrs. Haverford about her upcoming local council re-election campaign.
I just need air before I can finish my evening with them.
As I make my way to the foyer, my ears prick at my name being called. My shoulders slump and I mutter a groan.
LJ catches up to me, slinging an arm around my shoulders. “Where are you going, sweetheart?”
Gosh, I hate it when he calls me sweetheart. It’s a Stepford Wife training name.
“I just need some air, LJ.” I lift his forearm from my shoulder. “Can I have a minute alone?”
“What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t escort you outside?”
“You really don’t have to,” I say as the doorman opens the front glass door.
LJ walks me out. “Don’t be silly. It’s my pleasure to be by your side.”
Sickening. Must he lay it on this thick? I swear, everything in my life is a rehearsed show. I bet conversations went down like this between my parents when they met in college.
“You seem down tonight,” LJ remarks. “Something’s wrong?”
