Falling into Forever (Falling into You) - By Lauren Abrams Page 0,77
both laugh. I groan and nestle myself into the crook of his elbow, letting his warmth envelop me.
“I never thought of myself as someone who was all about the drama. And yet, here I am, with twelve million half-eaten pints of ice cream, pouring my heart out to my best friend. It’s been three months since I dumped my boyfriend. It’s not even like I got dumped. I dumped him. I’m whining like a toddler here.”
Ben doesn’t say anything.
“But I mean, actually, the real question is why on earth you would even put up with it. You were the one who wanted me to transfer to Ohio State with you. Maybe you weren’t aware that you were going to have to put up with months and months and months of listening to me moan and cry and whine. And there are probably more months to come. Because I’m a brat.”
“Dear lord, let’s hope not.” Ben looks heavenward and makes the sign of the cross in an exaggerated gesture. I punch his arm.
“That’s the fighting spirit.” He winks at me. “I knew if I kept you around long enough, you’d at least take a peek out of the bell jar.”
I bury my head in my hands. “I’m sorry, Ben.”
He tweaks my nose affectionately. “Yeah. You should be. Brat.”
“Nerd.”
“I know you are, but what am I?”
We both laugh.
“I’m turning over a new leaf. No more whining.”
He’s dubious. “Really? But you’re so good at it.”
“At least that’s one thing.”
“Hey. Moaning is also a strength. Crying. Sobbing. Laughing when you’re not a total mess. Pretty much anything that involves making noises.”
“What a great talent. I should take it on the road.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. There are any number of lucrative careers built around making noises.”
“Like what?”
“Train conductor.”
“I don’t think train conductors actually use their own noises. They have whistles for that.”
“Porn star.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Maybe. I need a name, though.”
“Isn’t there a formula already established? Your first pet and the name of the street you grew up on?”
“Ducktales Spruce Street.”
“Um, maybe not.”
“Okay. You pick the name, I’ll make the noises.”
He laughs, lightly, and turns back to his computer. “We’ll have to work on that. But thesis first. Don’t you have a paper to write or something? No papers from student teaching to grade?”
“All done. No more teachers, no more students, no more books. No more sitting in lecture halls. Maybe never again.”
“I thought you were going to take what was supposed to be your fourth year of college, but isn’t, since you’re some kind of genius when you’re all lovelorn, which totally disgusts me, by the way, and do the master’s in counseling. That was the plan as of last week. New York. Teacher’s College. Sam and you tearing up the dance floor.”
I give him a secret little smile. “Decided against it.”
“What?”
“I went to the interview at Two Rivers in Ann Arbor for the math teaching job at the school you’re going to work at, and guess what? I got the job. So, you’re stuck with me for another year, at least.”
“What?” He places the computer on the coffee table and fixes his eyes on mine. “Hallie, why didn’t you tell me that?”
“Because I just decided. You need someone to keep you in line. I think the classroom will suit me, at least for a little while. It’ll be fun. Don’t you think? Maybe we can even be roommates.”
He looks slightly sick to his stomach. I thought he would be ecstatic that I was going to come with him, but he doesn’t exactly look thrilled at the prospect of working with me.
He squeezes his hands together and stares up at me. “Hallie. I wish you had told me.”
“I’m telling you now.” I search his face, my resolve crumbling. “I can probably still go to New York, though, if you don’t want me around. I thought it would be fun. But maybe I was wrong.”
“It could be fun.” His voice is strained, and it doesn’t match his words.
“Ben, come on. What’s wrong? If you don’t want me interfering with your job, just say so. I can still tell them no. I can take rejection. I’m not going to crumble.”
“It’s not that.”
“What is it, then?”
He takes a deep breath. “I think I need a break from you.”
That stings. A lot. “Oh.”
I turn my head away and start to put my computer back into its bag.
“Don’t do that. You wouldn’t…” He looks up at me once, an unreadable expression in his eyes.