“I’m sorry too. But listen, you don’t even need us anymore. You’ve volunteered for over a year. I’m going to write you the best letter of recommendation that ever was, and I just know you’ll get that internship with Horowitz, Ross, and Shore.”
She didn’t know it had already been awarded to someone else. I hadn’t even told my parents. I needed this on my college application more than anyone knew. What the hell was I going to do now?
“Right. Of course.” I smiled and got to my feet, my hand sliding out from under hers the same way the floor felt as if it were sliding out from under me.
The dress was squeezing all the air out of my lungs; my vision was starting to blur at the edges. I needed to get out of there immediately.
“See that man in the pale blue suit? He’s had three champagnes, and I know for a fact this is his sweet spot for opening his wallet. Go schmooze him into a donation for the center.”
“Donna, I’m not worried about that right now. Are you OK?”
“I’m totally fine.” I squeezed her shoulder; my breaths were coming in shorter and shallower. “I’d introduce you myself, but I really need to go to the bathroom. Sorry.”
I turned on my heel and rushed away before she could stop me.
Avoiding everyone’s eyes, I took purposeful steps across the foyer. Joseph Frydenberg and Raine Clayton were standing in the corridor leading to the powder room, locked in an intense-looking conversation, but I hurried past, too weighed down by my own shit to worry about Will’s dad having another affair.
I managed to control my steps and my breathing until I was in the kitchen with only the catering staff to witness my face falling, my shoulders slumping, my breaths turning to desperate pants for oxygen. But they were all too busy to notice me at all. I stumbled to the back door, steadying myself on the frame while clawing at the front of my dress.
I couldn’t breathe. Why couldn’t I breathe?
Rushing into the dark night, my vision flickering in and out, I walked past the patio and reached behind me with frantic fingers to yank down my dress’s zipper. The pressure that had been cutting into my waist all night finally eased, and I gulped down cold air, my feet still carrying me away from the light and noise spilling out of the main house.
My heel caught in a groove between pavers, so I kicked off my shoes and continued down the path barefoot, relishing the sting of the cold night air as my dress slipped down my shoulders.
I walked to the pool and dropped the dress at my feet. My toes touched the curved edge of the pavers in the same spot Hendrix’s boots had been that night.
At the thought of him, a sob tore from my throat.
More uncertainty, more confusion.
I wanted him here, but I hardly knew him. He’d probably make me feel worse, but I just wanted him to hold me the way he had at the Halloween party.
I hated that I wanted that, that I craved comfort from some guy. I was supposed to be strong, independent, smart. How the hell was my life falling apart this badly?
I didn’t know what to do with myself. Going back to the party was not an option. Finding my friends in this state was not an option. There was only one thing to do—keep moving forward.
I stepped off the edge and into the frigid black water.
It enveloped me, wrapped its smooth coolness around every inch of my body, muted the faraway noises of the party. It wasn’t his embrace, but it was an embrace of sorts. A muted oblivion I craved more the longer I held my breath and stayed under.
The burning in my lungs made me feel alive. I opened my mouth, squeezed my eyes shut, and screamed. Air bubbles burst from my mouth, floating up, up, up as I released all the pent-up ugliness inside me into the water.
Once I had no air left, my body reacted on instinct. My feet and arms pushed me to the surface, and I gasped, spluttering and coughing, taking air into my lungs once more. But I felt cleansed. I’d let all that other, ugly air out, and I was taking this new, fresh air in.
My limbs felt drained when I reached the edge, and I leaned on the side of the pool to catch my breath.