AllFreeNovel
Share Us
12
CARLEIGH
I’m standing in a beautifully decorated reception area, wearing a fancier dress than I care to, clutching a glass of white wine so tightly in my hand that I think it might shatter.If it happens, and hits the beautiful floor of this hall, it’ll be the university’s fault.Actually, all of this is Columbia University’s fault.
It’s a reception hosted by my grad program, a sort of mini-gala dinner in honor of a visiting professor, held at my university’s best venue - Faculty House, home of many a bat mitzvah and wedding - which inexplicably had been scheduled for mid-summer, when many of my fellow lit grads are not around to attend.Of course, I’m around – I always am, always in the student carrels of the library or in search of coffee somewhere in these hallowed buildings - so I get a free ticket for the dinner.Get two free tickets, actually, and am asked - ordered - to bring someone, so as to fill up space.
That, of course, is the last thing I want to do.Obviously, I love lectures.I’m a nerd in the truest sense; love podcasts, love learning, love listening to old guys drone on and on about history and literature and everything else.And I attend a grad program with a bunch of other people who also love all of those things.The problem is those are the only people I know who would be at all interested in attending, and they’re all already invited.
Of them, only my friend and fellow grad student Evana is actually coming.She’s bringing her boyfriend, but he’s doing his Ph.D.in classics, so he’s used to these sorts of things.They’re a great couple, really fun people, so at a minimum I know I’ll have a great time third-wheeling.
But then: enter Bryson.
I’ve been on the phone with Molly, trying in vain to convince her to ditch her family’s annual vacation to California so she could attend a lecture for a literature graduate program - it’s a clear failure from the beginning, but I owe it to my professors to actually try - when Bryson walked into the living room, pieced my dilemma together, and offered to come.
I’ll admit, I’ve been a little bit nervous about it.First, there is the whole thing where I’m extremely into him and trying desperately not to make it obvious so as to save myself the embarrassment of rejection - plus, we live together, what a terrible idea from many angles - but besides that, the concern is about the general hoity-toity attitude of my cohort.Evana is cool, I’m not worried about Evana - but the professors, the school, the whole shebang - it all screams classism.I’ve got some merit funding, but the bottom line is I’m still spending thousands of dollars to live in Manhattan to attend Columbia University to get a master’s degree in literature, and after this I’ll probably end up spending even more money to get a Ph.D.and then spend the rest of my life in academic institutions.If Bryson doesn’t already think I’m stuffy and out of touch, he probably will after this.
Secretly, I’d love to go to pastry school and work in a bakery; I hate the idea of the early hours, but I would love the work.That, though, doesn’t fit into my five-year plan.
Not that I don’t love being in school - I really, really do.It’s the thing I’ve always been best at.I’m not friendly or outgoing or naturally charming enough to be instantly liked.I’m an introvert, bossy, and particular.All of the things that have made me into a neurotic person with only a few good friends also make me an excellent student – and probably a decent teacher - so really, academic life is probably what I’m best suited for.I can live locked up in my ivory tower with all the other people who are just like me.
Bryson is decidedly not one of those people.He’s the opposite of me in so many respects - he’s funny, warm, and charismatic.He’s spontaneous, distracted, and full of life in the kind of way that the stuffy professorial types at my school would deride.He’s got a gift, a way with other people, that even with all of the training in the world, I could never learn.And whether or not he realizes it, it’ll take him anywhere he wants to go.
I’m pretty sure Bryson could turn the dictator of North Korea into being a friend.Who I have less faith in are the more conservative, uptight people in my cohort.
Of course, in the end, I’m wrong.Everybody loves him.His warm grin and easy nature are contagious, and if it wasn’t for him muttering, “I’m so damn out of place here, Carleigh,” into my ear when we walked in, I would’ve thought that it was a perfect fit from all sides.
It actually works too well.This is Columbia’s fault.They didn’t need to schedule this at a time where I have to bring my roommate that I have poorly suppressed feelings for.It didn’t need to be semi-formal in the annoying way the Ivy types like everything to be.I don’t need to be wearing this blue dress -though I do look pretty good in it: it’s dusty blue, with short sleeves, and stretches from just beneath my collarbone to just above my knees.Professional enough for the setting, but it also gathers into a knot at the left side of my waist, so I’m not completely shapeless.
Bryson doesn’t need to be dressed up either.I’m kind of embarrassed to note his being cleaned up a little is probably the most distracting thing about tonight.His hair is half-tamed, no hat, curls just wild enough to still be him.He’s wearing a pair of dress pants with a black button-up shirt tucked in, and shoes that aren’t slip-on or steel-toed work boots.It’s alternate-universe semi-corporate Bryson, kind of, and while I’m sure he’s not comfortable, he looks really, really good.
I’m not the only one who’s noticed.
I really should’ve seen this coming.I came to a party for repressed overachievers and brought a tall, well-built, good-looking man.A man who’d never met a stranger and who immediately engaged anyone interested in conversation.
So, that is how I end up here, with a vice grip on the only glass of wine I’ve let myself have tonight, standing at a reception-height table with Evana and her boyfriend, Han, watching an English-lit grad student named Ashley, who once asked me if I dressed like a nun on purpose, flirt heavily with Bryson one table over.
“Ashley’s friendly,” I observe, keeping my tone of voice as measured and careful as possible.
“More like a wolf waiting to strike,” Evana corrects, taking a large sip of bourbon.“And your roommate is a little baby deer who wandered into her territory.”
I snort.I really love Evana.
“If the wolf actually just wants to get the baby deer,” Ham adds.“More like a praying mantis.”
Evana nods and taps her index finger against Han’s thumb.“Yeah, that’s a better analogy.”She nudges me.“So, anything going on there?”
I take a small sip of wine.“We’re just friends.”
“You guys look good together.”
I smile as my head shakes at Evana.I would never introduce her to Molly.“Bryson is 6’4,” He looks good with everybody.”
“You should probably go rescue him from Ashley.”Evana raises an eyebrow in their direction.
I glance over, see Ashley laughing and touching Bryson’s forearm.It looks strong and tanned against his rolled-up sleeve - I may not like Ashley, but I have to admit, she has good taste.He’s a grown man and he can do whatever he wants.
Evana, apparently undeterred, calls over, “Hey, Bryson!Come here for a second.”
