Robin Wasserman - Envy

No matter what she may have been fantasizing about in her most secret, most ridiculous daydreams, she never would have acted on it. Never.

She just wished she could go back in time and make sure it never happened.

But going back not being an option, she resolved to go forward. Forward meant acing AP French, and forward meant sticking it out on the newspaper, for the sake of her college applications, if nothing else. Forward meant looking him in the eye every day and never saying anything to anyone about what had happened, until she forgot it herself. Eventually she would forget. It had just been a kiss. One kiss. She would forget all about it. Soon.

And today moving forward meant returning to the newspaper office, alone. Doing what she’d signed on to do-run the paper, make it great. She forced herself to return, hating the sound of her key in the door, hating the sight of the couch she used to nap on, the table at which she’d spent so many hours lost in her work. She was so different now-but everything there, it was exactly the same. And maybe in the end, she just couldn’t stay away.

Neither, it seemed, could he.

She’d spent half an hour staring blankly at the computer screen, trying to finalize the page one layout for the next edition, but mainly just concentrating on keeping her body calm and still-she felt that if she relinquished control for even a moment, she’d start to tremble uncontrollably. Or just flee.

Maybe she’d known that he was on his way.

Because at the sound of the knob turning, the door opening, she didn’t need to turn around-she knew it was him. Not by the jaunty footsteps or the faint whiff of his Calvin Klein cologne. She’d just known. As if the room had suddenly gotten chilly, or the walls had begun to press in.

“Beth,” he said quietly.

Still she didn’t turn around.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said, finally.

“You noticed,” she said drily, her back to him. She focused on keeping the pain and panic out of her voice-she knew, somehow, that if she could pull this off, if she could face him without crumbling, prove to both of them that she could do it, that this could be the end of it.

“Beth, if I did anything that made you feel uncomfortable… If you thought that I-well, sometimes it’s easy for people to get the wrong idea about situations, imagine that certain things happened, when they didn’t, really. Blow things out of proportion…”

She grabbed the edges of the desk, pressing down until the tips of her fingers faded to white, and forced herself to take a deep breath and turn around slowly.

“What is it, exactly, that you think I imagined?” she asked in a measured tone.

“Well, you obviously thought that things somehow crossed a line, and if I sent you any confusing signals, I just want to apologize-I’d just hate to see you overreact.”

“Overreact?” Her voice almost broke on the last syllable, and again she forced herself to breathe. She would not yell, and she would not cry, even if it killed her. She hoped that from across the room he couldn’t see that she was shaking.

“You’re obviously upset,” he pointed out, taking a step toward her. “If we could just-”

“Stay away,” she blurted out, jumping out of her seat and away from him.

He backed off, holding his hands out in front of him as if to demonstrate they weren’t hiding a secret weapon. Of course, he didn’t need one.

“Okay, okay, I’m back here, okay?” he retreated to the doorway. “Just tell me, what can we do to fix things here? How can I convince you I’m not the big bad wolf?” He cocked an eyebrow and gave her a patented Jack Powell grin, and Beth suddenly realized that this was a man who’d discovered that, with his accent and his dimples, he could get away with pretty much anything.

She also suddenly realized that he needed her help to get away this time-that he was running scared. She had the power, and she could use it.

“There’s nothing you can do,” she said simply. “Just stay away from me. I’m not dropping out of French and I’m not dropping the newspaper-but I don’t ever want to be in a room alone with you again. So make sure that doesn’t happen, or I’ll make sure of it for you.”

He took a step toward her again.

“Are you threatening me?”

She was almost as surprised as he was.

“I’m just explaining things for you,” she replied. “Stay away from me, or I’m going to the administration.”

“And say what?” he asked, in a low, dangerous voice.

“You know what.”

He came closer, and closer, until he was looming over her, only a few inches away.

“That I came on to you? That I wanted you? That I fell madly in love with you and you rebuffed my nefarious advances?” he hissed, curling his lip in derision. “Is that what you’ll say?”

She stayed silent, lip trembling, back now pressed against the wall, eyes searching for an escape. He was blocking her path to the door.

“Because I’ll tell you what I’ll say,” he continued. “I’ll say it’s a silly schoolgirl crush gone out of control. That I made the mistake of getting close to you, helping you out, not realizing what a sad, pathetic, unstable little girl you really were. Prone to tears and hallucination.” He smiled coolly. “What do you think they’ll say to that? Who would you believe?”

“Stop,” Beth begged, hating the soft, whispery sound of her own voice. “Just stop.”

“Because I think they’ll believe me,” he pressed on. “I think they’ll ask themselves, why would he ever risk everything for someone like her ?”

Beth had no response-it was all she could do just to stand there, stare up at him, not lose control and break down. But her control was slipping. He reached a hand toward her, and she skirted away-but there was nowhere to go.

If he touches me, I’ll lose it , she realized. I can’t stop myself.

But she couldn’t stop him, either, and he smiled cruelly and put a hand on her shoulder as she felt her knees buckle and-

“Am I interrupting something in here?”

Mr. Powell jumped back from Beth and spun toward the door. Kane stood in the doorway, one arm slung against the frame, a quizzical expression painted across his face.

“That’s up to Ms. Manning.” Powell turned back to Beth. “Are we done here?”

“We’re done,” she murmured, forcing herself to meet his gaze.

“Okay, then. I’ll be happy to honor your request, Ms. Manning-but I’d advise you to remember what I said here.”

Beth nodded, and Mr. Powell strode out of the room. As soon as he was gone, the last of Beth’s energy disappeared, and she sagged against the wall.

“What was all that about?” Kane asked, hurrying over to her. He put an arm around her and guided her to a chair. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she whispered, as a tear escaped from the corner of her eye and spattered on the table.

“Okay, that’s obviously a lie, but we all know I don’t feel all that strongly about the truth,” he said gently. “So I can deal with that.”

In spite of herself, Beth smiled. “What are you doing here?” she asked, hoping he wouldn’t notice her surreptitiously wiping her nose with the edge of her sleeve. She brushed another tear away.

“Looking for you, actually. Swim practice let out early, so I thought I’d come see if I could bully you into another study session. I know we weren’t due to meet until tomorrow, but…” He grinned and pulled a brown paper bag out of his backpack. “I even brought a bribe.”

She looked inside and gasped in delight.

“For me?”

“Chocolate chip cookies and chocolate milk-that’s right, isn’t it?”