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I scroll on my phone for a bit. Sip my beer. Try to stuff down the anxiety I’m feeling about this mysterious meeting. When I finally look up, the redhead is now sitting across from the brunette in the corner—and lucky me, she’s chosen the chair facing me.
Man, she’s pretty. Charismatic, too. She seems to be an animated conversationalist. Oh, man, when she belly laughs with her friend, she’s drop-dead gorgeous.
Shit. She’s caught me staring at her. Normally, I’d look away so I don’t come off like a creep. But she’s not looking away, so I don’t either.Holy fuck. Is she maintaining eye contact with me because she recognizes me from our summer together fifteen years ago?
I’m much taller now, and I’ve got some facial hair. Also, I’ve filled out quite a bit since age fourteen, thankfully. But in terms of my facial structure, I look basically the same as I did back then. As a matter of fact, I had a girlfriend a few years ago who easily picked me out of mykindergartenclass photo, so I think it’s reasonable to think a person who’s good with faces would be able to draw a straight line from the teenage version of me to the thirty-year-old version sitting here now.
Figuring there’s no time like the present to figure out if this woman recognizes me or not, I muster the courage to smile broadly at her. And, unfortunately, she quickly looks away.
“Hello, Augustus,” my father says. He pats my back awkwardly, settles onto the stool next to me, and orders his usual expensive Scotch, as well as another beer for me, even though mine is half-full and I’ve just said no thank you to his offer.
“So, what’s up?” I ask. I figure we might as well get straight to whatever shitty thing he came to say so I can get back home and study.
Dad doesn’t take the bait. Rather than cutting to the chase, he tells me about some big deal he’s been working on—the thing that delayed him. And since I don’t give a shit about that, as Dad talks, I let my gaze drift to the redhead again. When my eyes find her, she’s deep in conversation with her friend, which makes it easy for me to study her pretty features again, undetected.
“Here you go,” the bartender says, sliding our drinks in front of us. He’s interrupted Dad’s monologue about work, so I use the break as an opening to nudge our conversation along.
“That all sounds great, Dad. What else is new?”
“Well, I’ve got a new girlfriend,” Dad says brightly. “Cara. She’s in PR.” And off he goes, telling me about yet another thing I don’t care about. The ink is barely dry on his recent divorce from Ashley, but he’s not a man who likes being alone. Even when he’s got a wife, he’s usually got at least one secret girlfriend in the wings, too. He’s always denied that’s how he rolls. When he’s married, he pretends to be the perfect husband until he’s found out. But I’ve seen how the sausage is made, unfortunately, thanks to my big brother. I was thirteen when Max discovered indisputable evidence of our father cheating on our mother, and it’s my firm belief a cheating leopard never changes his spots.
I absent-mindedly draw a little sad-face in the condensation on my new beer glass and ask, “Is your girlfriend older or younger than me?” As of yet, Alexander Vaughn has drawn a line at thirty and never dipped below it, in terms of the women he dates. But I’ve always felt like it’s only a matter of time before he winds up dating or even marrying a twenty-something.
“She’s exactly your age, actually,” Dad says. “Twenty-nine.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m thirty. I had a birthday last month.”
“Oh, yeah. I meant, give or take.”
I sip my new beer, since it’s colder than my other one, and wait for Dad to tell me what the fuck I’m doing here. But he doesn’t. He’s now telling me the rather boring story of how he met his latest girlfriend.
As Dad talks, I glance at the redhead. And this time, to my thrill, she’s already looking straight at me. Okay, whether she’s Kelly or not, I’m feeling a full-bodied attraction to this woman. Reflexively, I smile again, this time even bigger and wider than the last time, but she not only doesn’t return my smile, she shakes head andscowlsat me. Apparently, she wants to make it clear she’s not into me, even though she was the one looking at me first this time.
I match her scowl to let her know I’ve received her rejection, loud and clear, and quickly look away like I couldn’t care less. But it’s not true, because now I’m wondering,Well, shit. What if she’s Kelly Gessler and finding out I’m Auggie Vaughn would turn that scowl into a smile?I totally get her not being interested in some random creep in a bar—fair enough. Men can be total trash. Just look at the man to my left. But if she’s Kelly, maybe she’d have a different reaction to me, if she knew my identity. Maybe, if she’s Kelly, she’d like catching up with a blast from her past.
“And what’s new with you, Augustus?” Dad asks, jerking my attention back to him.Well, that’s weird. Normally, my father doesn’t ask that question. Once it became clear I plan to help abandoned and abused animals at shelters and rescues after graduation, rather than joining a practice that caters to rich suburbanites and their designer dogs—which therefore means I’ll probably never make the kind of money my father equates with human value—Dad lost all interest in my schooling.
“Nothing much,” I say. “I’ve been going to school. Studying. Oh, I moved into Grandma’s condo six weeks ago. Did you hear about that?”
“Sorry to hear she passed. She was a good woman.”
My grandmother, my mom’s mom, fuckinghatedmy father. But I manage to say, “She was the best,” before taking another sip of my beer. “Oh, I do have some exciting school-related news. I’ve got a second interview for a really coveted summer internship tomorrow morning. It’s at this renowned animal hospital where—"
“Is it a paid internship?”
I shift on my stool. “No, but if I get it, knock on wood, all hours worked this summer will count toward class credits in the fall, which ultimately will save you money, because tuition is based on the amount of units—"
“That’s actually a perfect segue,” Dad says. “I’ve got some news I wanted to deliver to you in person, son. About your tuition.”
Fucking hell. I knew Dad asked me here to deliver some bad news. But I never in a million years thought it’d have something to do with my tuition. At Grandpa’s final birthday party last year, Dad repeated his prior promise to pay all four years of tuition, as long as I continued covering my living expenses, which I’ve done. The veterinary program is four years, and I’m only just now about to finish up my second year. So, what could he possibly have to say about my tuitionnow?
Dad calmly sets down his Scotch. “You’re on your own, kid.”
I wait for him to explain further. When he doesn’t, I ask, “What does that mean? What percentage of tuition will I need to cover myself and starting when?”
“All of it, starting now.” He’s dropped his bomb like he’s talking about the weather, rather than delivering a deathblow to me. With a shrug, he adds, “I’ve gotten you halfway there. Now, it’s up to you to get yourself the rest of the way.”
I can’t believe my ears. If I’d known Dad was going to ditch his promise halfway through my schooling, I surely would havemade some different choices. I might have worked construction this past summer to save money, the same way I did during my undergrad summers, rather than volunteering at that animal shelter for free. I might have applied for student loans, none of which are available to me now. Or perhaps I would have skipped vet school completely, opting instead to remain in my vet tech job. But what are my options now that I’m halfway through and stuck?
