Read Online In the Wake of Wanting by Lori L. Otto - Free Book Online Page B

you to read this,” Coley says.
    “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. It’s just your first impression of me… it can be completely off base. I promise not to take it personally.”
    “Do we have to go over it in the classroom?”
    “Nope,” I tell her.
    “Can we go to a bar?"
    I look at her questioningly and laugh. “I’m only nineteen. I know you’re even younger than that.”
    “I know but… I’m going to need a drink.”
    “It can’t be that bad.” I get up and gather my things. “Come on. Aside from a bar, do you have any suggestions on where to go?”
    “Somewhere private-ish,” she says. “This is going to be embarrassing.”
    “I’ve been there, Coley,” I tell her. “You heard what happened to me. I said Monica was bitchy. I said other things, too. I felt terrible. And I survived. You will, too.”
    “Right,” she says under her breath.
    “The library?” I ask.
    “No. Too many people.”
    “Back to the coffee shop?”
    “Still too many people.”
    “How about Morningside Park? Do you have a class immediately after this?”
    “No. I have a lunch break.”
    “So do I. If it’s really bad, we can go grab a bite and keep working, if you want. I’ll leave it up to you.”
    “You may change your mind about that invitation,” she says, following me down the street to the park.
    “Shit, Coley, what did I do to you on Monday to make you say such horrible things about me?” I ask her, smiling, but beginning to worry about what she could possibly have written about me. I thought we had a good interaction on Monday once we started talking.
    She covers her face with both of her hands as she walks, tripping over a crack in the sidewalk and causing her red purse to dislodge from her shoulder. Once again, the contents spill onto the ground.
    “Does that thing have a zipper?” I ask her, picking up a lipstick container and a prescription pill bottle while she chases mascara that has rolled away from her. She grabs her birth control container just as I reach for it. So she has a boyfriend.
    “It’s broken,” she tells me, clearly self-conscious, taking the items back from me and shoving everything into her purse. Of course, all I’m thinking is, why wouldn’t you get a new one? But that’s a question generated by my privileged lifestyle. Maybe she doesn’t have the money to go out and replace a decent handbag because of one inconvenient defect. If she wasn’t so skittish around me, the zipper probably wouldn’t have been needed either time.
    “I can’t fix zippers, but I have some Duct tape at my apartment. It’s amazing what that stuff can do,” I tell her, eliciting a smile from her lips. “I’ll bring a roll on Friday.”
    We come upon an empty picnic table underneath a large tree, which seems perfectly private-ish enough for our work. When I sit down, Coley seems to agree as she takes a seat opposite mine. I pull out my red pen, ready to do some markups on her work.
    “What do we have?” I ask her casually in an attempt to put her at ease, looking at the envelope she’s protecting beneath her fingers.
    “Trey, I never thought you’d read this,” she says.
    “It’s okay. Stop overthinking this. In two hours, you’re going to look back on this and realize how silly you’re being about this dumb assignment. It means nothing. Seriously.”
    Her face falls.
    “I didn’t mean that your writing has no value. I hope that’s not how you took that. I just mean you’re putting too much pressure on yourself for this one assignment. It’s really just an icebreaker for both of us. And honestly, Professor Aslon doesn’t even score this one. She reads it, but it doesn’t count toward your grade.”
    “I’m not worried about that.”
    “Okay. Well… let me see what you wrote.”
    “You were never supposed to see it,” she whispers, finally pushing her work across the table.
    When I open the envelope, I’m surprised to see stanzas on the page. It’s poetry. She