Page 16 of The Woman I’ve Become

Graduation is almost here, and then I’m off to Boston University. Mother is gravely disappointed that I’m not going to NYU. But I need distance. Boston was the best I could do. For sure, 162 miles between us is far better than only 50.

I don’t want to think about leaving. Not tonight. Tonight is about Casey. I have no idea how I will ever leave him. I can’t bear the thought.

I’m thinking of taking Wendy with me when I leave for college. A waitressing job would work for her share of our expenses. She would get huge tips, for sure. It would be so damn cool. As long as we’re still friends, anyway. Who knows? Nothing lasts forever.

Casey pays the clerk. Instead of poking a receipt into the bag, the man hands Casey a folded piece of paper. A note, I think. The clerk glances at me, and I look away, then follow Casey back to the car.

“Did that guy just give you a note?” I fasten my seat belt.

Casey does the same but stares at me as he does. “He’s a friend of mine. He has a job he needs me to do.”

Not sketchy at all. “Oh.” What else is there to say. I am not going to ruin this night asking stupid questions.

Neither of us speaks again until he parks at our next stop. I stare at the McDonald’s sign. Really? Then I survey the parking lot of the low-end shopping center. Definitely a part of this town I have not seen. I make a face.

“Seriously?” I sit up straight and give him a look that shouts just how disappointed I am. “This is where we’re having dinner?”

“You don’t like McDonald’s?”

I’m confused as to how to answer that question. Sure, I like McDonald’s, but he’s twenty-five. I didn’t expect him to like it, and I don’t want to sound like a kid.

So I shrug. “If that’s the best you can do.”

I pat myself on the back for tossing out exactly the right comeback.

He crooks his finger for me to come closer. Naturally, I do. I lean in all the way so that our faces are nearly touching. “What?” I demand as if being this close isn’t making me crazy with need.

“We can do anything, go anywhere you want. But I thought we’d make this quick and get back to my place.”

I decide not to mention that there are fast-food places in Norwalk not so far from his house. I just want to eat and get back there. In fact, I could forgo eating entirely.

“This works.” I smile really wide. “I can’t think of a single place anywhere that serves what I want right now.”

This makes him happy, I can tell.

“Good.”

This time I don’t wait for him to come around and open my door. I hop out and rush to meet him. The kiss he gives me is worth far more than a display of mere social etiquette.

Inside, we order our food and find an empty table. It isn’t easy. The place is full of kids and almost no parents. But most of the kids are teenagers, so no surprise. This isn’t exactly an exclusive neighborhood.

We eat and watch the crowd. The younger set is busy throwing fries at each other and horsing around. The older ones, the teens, are watching each other and probably hoping for a hookup of some sort. I can’t help but notice how Casey watches the older girls. One goes for a refill of her drink. Another for ketchup. Then someone needs more napkins. I realize then that these girls are putting on little catwalk-like performances for the boys at the other table. I almost groan at the memory of following a similarly ridiculous ritual.

The dumb things girls will do to get noticed. I think this knowing that I just gave my boyfriend a blow job while he was driving. Maybe that need transcends age and privilege. Whatever.

I look at Casey, thankful I don’t have to worry about being noticed anymore, but he’s totally focused on one of the girls who is slaying those moves like she’s trying out for America’s Next Top Model.

“Should I be jealous?” My eyebrows rear up my forehead. I am jealous. I won’t deny it.

But the smile that stretches across his lips melts my flash of anger. “Go talk to her. Tell her we think she’s hot. See if she wants to join us.”

What I feel now is fear, betrayal. “Are you serious?” We did this once before—the evening after we had sex the first time. I didn’t like it then, and I don’t like it now. “Do it yourself if you want to fuck her.”

He makes a face. “It’s only a game, little girl. Not an invitation to a ménage à trois.”

“Maybe I should invite one of those cute guys too.” I stand, that anger shooting through me again. “And I am not a little girl.”

“Whatever makes you happy,” he says with a wink that only pisses me off more.