him to move to New York and start his own company.” And I also smile as I recall the first time he told me about it. “You know, he was the first person from his family to emigrate and the first to become financially successful.”
“Wow. I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah, we even went to pay tribute to her grave in Valhalla. So believe me, it’s a bit like a religion for him.”
Matthew seems to ponder something, and, after seeing my hand resting on the table, he reaches for it and says, “Look, I promise we’ll work as hard as possible to do the best study we can on objectivism. Even if I hate it to its core.”
I feel the urge to ask him why he hates it so much, but since he didn’t bring it up, I decide to bite my tongue and close the subject once and for all. “Thanks,” I tell him, keeping my smile just as a big. “It means a lot.”
After lunch, as I see everyone getting ready to leave, I can’t help but ask, “Where are you guys heading now?”
“Matthew and I are heading to the library. We’ve reserved two seats there,” Sarah replies.
“Really? The library is open?” I ask instantly.
“Yeah, but you have to book a spot in advance to get in.” And my hopes are crashed just as fast.
“And I booked a table at the cafeteria,” David adds, a big grin on his lips. “You wanna join us?”
Looking at my watch, I see I still have two hours before my next class, so why not? “Of course. I miss the smoothies they used to serve.”
Matthew Bradford
Damn it! My feelings toward Petra are more serious than I thought. As soon as I saw her welcoming us into her house with her beautiful wavy black hair, her big blue eyes, and the cute little smile on her face, I knew I had never stopped having feelings for her. But how come she woke up from the coma just a couple of days ago and is now engaged?
I try to focus on page fifty-four, analyzing the supply and demand market and governmental intervention in the ’70s, but I can’t. After all, I’ve never thought getting engaged was something Petra had in mind. I mean, she’s not even nineteen! Why the hurry? Maybe it was the coma that gave her boyfriend the courage to get down on one knee so fast…
And who is her fiancé, by the way? She’s never given us any info about him. What’s his name? What does he do? How old is he? I said he’s fifteen years older than Petra, but it might be even more… Is he that superficial and shallow that he needs to pick her up in a Rolls-Royce? Jeez, if I knew it had belonged to him, I’d never have looked at it.
One thing is for sure: after my terrible douchebag attitude this morning, Petra won’t be sharing any info about him with me anytime soon. But she might have shared some with Sarah and Katrina… Looking at Sarah, who’s right in front of me, I ask, “Sweet Sarah, how are you?”
She suspiciously raises an eyebrow as she stares at me from behind her big, rounded glasses. “What do you want to know?” Putting down her book, she leans back in her chair, folding her arms. “Who’s the man behind Petra’s engagement ring?” She knows me so well.
“Yes, pleaaaase,” I assert instantly, rubbing my hands together.
“Not happening.” And she dives back into her book.
“Why?” I lean forward, lowering my voice. “Did she tell you who is he? At least his name?”
“Not even his name, no. You know her. She’s closed up like a shell. Katrina and I have nicknamed him Mr. No Name. I just know he works on Wall Street, a hedge fund manager like her dad.”
“Impossible to find out with so little…”
Sarah sighs loudly. “Matt, for your own sanity, forget her, alright? She is into someone else.”
“It’s not that easy.” I pause for a beat. “Petra is perfect for me. She’s really my type. She is smart, kind, funny, humble, modest…” I let out a breath, probably sounding pathetic as I look at Sarah’s unimpressed face. “She is just confused, I’m sure. No one gets engaged after waking up from a coma.” And before Sarah can say a word, I ask, “Did she give you any details about how he proposed?”
Sarah chuckles at me like I just said the stupidest thing in the world. Did I? “She