Page 2 of City of Love
My phone chirps, and I look down at it, only to see that the number is unlisted. I groan as a sick feeling starts to churn in my gut; for most people, an unlisted number usually means it’s a telemarketer. But for me?
For me it usually means Marcus.
Marcus Finnegan has a soft spot for me. To be fair, he has a soft spot for all women, but he doesn’t treat them all the way he used to treat me. He’ll hit on anyone, offer to show them a good time, put on his nasty face when rejected. But with other girls, he never really pushes it past that.
With me, he’s different. I never told anyone about him; not really. Jade knew a little bit, and so did Cohen, but both of them would have flipped if they knew how bad things had gotten last year. Noel was the only one who knew everything—the things Marcus said, the notes he wrote, the pictures he sent—everything his disgusting mind conjured up. She was the one who helped me figure out how to make it stop. I don’t think I would have had the courage to turn him in—and, yes, give him afirmtalking to—if it hadn’t been for her.
At this thought I grimace, and I’m pulled back to the present. Because guess who’s also going on this trip to France? That’s right—Marcus. My goal is just to avoid him at all costs, although I have to admit it would be funny to get him and Noel in a room together. She hasstrongfeelings about him. Personally I’m just annoyed that I’m going to have to spend energy worrying about him when I could be doing more enjoyable things, like eating pastries. I guess it’s a good thing that even though this is a class trip, most of it will be spent with our respective pen pals.
My worries aren’t helped by the fact that Marcus has texted me twice in the week since graduation. Two times doesn’t sound like a lot, but it’s more than I’ve had from him in over a year. I finally did something about him when we were juniors, confronting him and reporting him to the principal. That along with blocking his number got him to stop contacting me, although there was nothing I could do about seeing him at school. The fact that I’m hearing from him again—and from a new number now—makes me a little nervous. His texts haven’t been offensive, but I wonder if it’s only a matter of time.
I shake my head, trying to dislodge thoughts of Marcus from my mind, and I tuck Noel’s earrings in the inside pocket of my carry-on. It’s the backpack I’ve used for the last four years, and it feels weird not to be hauling around a load of textbooks inside. I don’t know what I’m doing with my life yet, but whatever I decide to study in college, I think this bag has earned its retirement.
Mina and Jade both know what they want to do with their futures, although Jade’s parents one hundred percent are not on board with her art. Still, at least she knows. So does Cohen, for that matter. Me? I have little to no idea. In fact, my main goal going to France will be to figure out my life. By the time I get home in one month, I’ll know what I want to be when I grow up—or rather, when I’m more grown up. I’ll be nineteen in a few months, and lately this adulting business is causing me a lot of stress.
But that’s what France is for. A time to explore, to think and figure out what I want to dedicate my life to. I considered becoming an esthetician, and it’s still not off the table. I love making people feel confident—making them feel good about themselves and helping them find the power to be who they want to be. But I just feel like there might be more options for me.
I’ll find it. I’ll figure it out.
After Mina and Jade leave, hugging me tightly and planning a video chat session for when I get to France, I’m left with my brothers. They sit on either side of me on the bed, and I slump sideways slightly, resting my head on Ian’s shoulder.
“You’re going to be careful, right?” he says, his voice serious.
I look at him. “Of course,” I say gently, because I know how he worries. And I can’t blame him. He’s a cop; he’s seen some messed up stuff. Not in Stone Springs, of course; he only just transferred here from Denver. He’s the first to join in fun and games, but he’s also unfailingly devoted to and serious about the people he loves most. I’m lucky enough to be one of those people.
“Because you’re way too trusting. People could take advantage of you,” he goes on.
“I’ll be careful,” I reassure him, trying not to sound irritated, because I know his words are coming from a place of love.
He just nods, though he doesn’t look any less worried.
“When does your flight leave?” Cohen says.
“Late tonight,” I say. “From Jackson Hole. It’s something like a sixteen-hour trip. I’ll get to Paris at five tomorrow evening.”
Cohen’s nose wrinkles. “That sounds horrible.”
“It does,” I say, nodding. Still, I smile. “But it will be worth it.”
“I’m glad you get to meet your pen pal,” Ian says. Then he heaves a sigh. “Well, go ahead and finish getting your stuff ready, I guess.”
With a kiss to the forehead from both Cohen and Ian and a promise to keep in touch, I’m left alone. I look around my room, feeling strangely lost—like I don’t belong here right now. Like I just want to get to Paris already. The feeling makes me antsy, and I tap my foot the same way Jade does when she’s having trouble sitting still for too long. My eyes catch on my desk, and to give myself a project while I’m waiting to leave, I grab a piece of paper and a pen. I’m trying to figure out what to do with my life; I may as well start now, and I’m going to do things Mina’s way. I’m going to make a list.
I’ve got a bit of a thing about my handwriting—I like it to be nice, or I’ll be tempted to start over—so I take my time as I begin.Possible Careers, I write at the top.
1) Esthetician.Helping people feel beautiful and instilling confidence. That’s clearly right up my alley. I go on.
2) Event planner.Helping people celebrate, helping them make special memories—also something I would love to do.
3) Social worker.I add this one with some hesitation, but I’m not committing to anything by putting it on my list, so it’s fine. There are aspects of social work I think I would like, but there are also aspects that might bother me. I’ve heard it’s the kind of job you have to leave at the office—the kind of job that often comes with baggage—and I’m not sure I’d be capable of that.All I know is that I’d like to help people—reallyhelpthem.
I bite my lip, still thinking, and then decide to leave it at that for now. I can add more options later if I want. I fold my paper neatly and tuck it into an outer pocket of my backpack. Then I pull out my phone, and I shoot a quick email to Noel.
I’m leaving to go to the airport soon! I have a bit of a drive. I’m so excited to meet you in person. We have one month of nonstop girl talk ahead of us! I will also be following you around like a puppy dog. Be prepared.
I pause when my phone chirps, and for one wild second I think it’s Noel, just because I’m in the middle of emailing her. It’s not, of course; we never text or talk on the phone.
When I see that it’s just a reminder that I’ve got a text from an unlisted number, my heart sinks. I open the message, and with one glance I know I was right; it’s from Marcus.
