The Smartest Girl in the Room (31 page)

Unfortunately, the stress of impending senior
finals combined with the memory of Emily listening intently to
Martin’s every word outweighed Mitch’s rational thoughts. He walked
to the library on Monday after his first class and stormed into the
room where Emily was studying. "You are not going to date
Martin!"

He felt like a fool as soon as the words left
his mouth. Emily put down her pen. "Thank you so much, because this
whole adult thing is much tougher than it looks. Here I’ve been
thinking about what happens after graduation and having this
existential crisis. Where will I go? What will I do? Very Scarlett
O’Hara. But then you come to tell me what I will not do, and
suddenly it’s nice and easy again. I mean, there are still some
things I have to decide, but at least one thing is off my plate.
Unless you’d like to throw around any other commands?"

He frowned. "I’m serious. You’re not dating
my friend."

She was on her feet now. "You're such a
hypocrite, you’re almost a paradox. How do you still exist?"

"I didn’t date a friend of yours."

"Am I supposed to give you points for not
screwing one of my friends, just some stranger? Because it’s okay
to blow someone off for some person you’ve never met before, but
not someone’s friend? Then you can feel betrayed?"

"I’d only just met you, too." God, why did he
speak before he thought?

"Right," Emily said, calmly gathering her
papers and books. "And I think if we count the days we’ve actually
seen each other, in the flesh, we’ve got a little less than a month
going for us. And with that person you’ve got at least three,
right? So why don’t you go back to her, or find someone else you’ve
known for a longer period of time?" She raced out the door. He
didn’t block her way because he knew that would be a deal breaker,
but he followed her out of the library.

"I don’t know what to do to tell you how
sorry I am," he said as soon as they were outside. "I wish things
could have been different."

"Again, how do you live? You are such a
victim of your own circumstances. It’s not in your power to make
things different?"

She was so fierce and beautiful. "Maybe it
was, Em, but I didn’t know it. I would have changed everything if
I’d realized I could have. I was so miserable."

"Why am I not surprised that a selfish
motivation would get the point across?"

"That isn’t what I mean." Fierce, beautiful
and exasperating. "Kyra was... ridiculous, but I was miserable
because I wasn’t with you." She looked down at the ground. "You
have to believe me," Mitch said. "I thought about you every day.
Maybe I didn’t know you for a long time, but I dreamed about you so
often, living that one perfect night over and over in my head, I
might as well have known you since the day I was born." She looked
up. "I thought I could forget you with someone else, but then I
couldn’t let myself forget. It’s my fault, and I’m sorry."

He came in closer, and she didn't push him
away.

"I don’t know what to say," Emily said.

"What do you want to say?"

"Let’s run off and stay up late again," Emily
said. "Let’s eat something this time and then go back to my place."
Mitch’s face burned. "But I don’t think I can say that right now. I
believe you, but I don’t trust you. I wish I did."

"What do I have to do?"

"I don’t know. I’m sorry."

They stood for what felt like an eternity.
Bravely, at last, Mitch took Emily’s hand in his. "Then I guess
I’ll have to figure something out."

Emily changed the subject. "Are you going to
Miranda’s thing on Thursday?"

"What ‘thing’?"

She laughed and then he laughed. "I don’t
know," she said at last. "Something about an art gallery on Newbury
Street, some artist she knows." He felt her fingers intertwining
with his. He wasn't sure who started it.

"She didn’t ask me."

She smiled. "I’m asking you."

"So I should take you there?"

"I’ll meet you there."

"Okay. I’ll meet you there." He leaned in
closer and put his chin gently on the top of her head, breathing in
the scent of her hair. She squeezed his hand tighter. "Emily?"

"Hmm?"

"Will you walk me to class?"

On Tuesday and Wednesday, Emily and Mitch
ate, studied and rode home together. It was nice to have that
routine together.

He didn’t meet her on Thursday, but sent her
a text saying that he was getting home a little earlier so he could
change. Emily bit her lip, trying to imagine what he could do to
make himself any handsomer.

Smiling, she grabbed the black dress, the one
she should have worn that first night, and the black heels.

"Oh, wow!" Zainab said when she saw Emily in
the dress. "Should I make myself scarce when you get home?"

"Yeah, that’ll be hard." Richard was in
finals crunch too, and Zainab was spending more of her time at his
place than at the apartment. "Don’t change any plans on my
account."

~~~

Mitch got to the gallery fifteen minutes
early. Miranda kissed him on the cheek when he came in and grinned.
"See, I told you dinner would work out."

"We’ll see," Mitch said, but he was smiling
too.

"It’s okay-" Miranda’s phone beeped. She read
a message and stopped smiling. "Mitch, let me introduce you to the
artist." She made a quick introduction to a slightly balding, older
red haired man and then ran off. Mitch talked to the artist for a
few minutes before someone else grabbed him.

He looked at a few of the paintings. He
wanted to call them Neo-Realism but was pretty sure that wasn’t the
right term. He kept looking back at the entrance and finally saw
Emily walk in.

She was wearing the black dress she’d brought
with her that day at the café. It was perfect on her, and the heels
didn’t hurt either.

He caught her eye. She smiled then blushed.
She walked down a few steps near the table with food. He started
walking over.

She stood up straight, and then turned to the
side. Who was talking to her? It was some tall, big, dark-haired
guy. He looked familiar. Emily narrowed her eyes and stepped closer
to him. Wait a minute, wasn’t that the guy he had seen with
Miranda?

Emily shrieked as the man grabbed her hand
and literally shoved it down his own pants! Mitch pushed past the
people who were staring to get to Emily. By the time he got to her,
the man was on the floor, writhing in pain.

The man was trying to stand up but Miranda
was standing over him, screaming at him to stay away from Emily.
Emily was frozen for a second then shook her hand violently. "Eww,
eww, eww!"

"Are you alright?" Mitch asked. Emily nodded.
"What the Hell happened?"

She blinked. "He made me... touch him.
Eww!"

The man stood up. Mitch turned around and
raised his fist. "You son of a-"

"Don’t!" Emily pulled him back. "He’s not
worth it."

Miranda got between Mitch and the man. "She’s
right. Let me take care of this."

Mitch threw his arm down. "I can call the
police as well as you can."

The man laughed weakly. "You don’t want to do
that."

"Shut up," Miranda hissed.

The man smirked. "Do you want to tell them or
should I? I wouldn’t spend ten minutes at the station, assuming I
even made it there. Last time I think the nice officers dropped me
off at home. But a phone call could go badly for you. Did you want
to work in Boston?"

Emily rushed forward. "If you threaten him
again I will make sure Richard won’t speak to you."

The man said nothing as Mitch pulled her
back. "Don’t listen to him," Mitch growled. "I’m calling the
police."

Miranda closed her eyes. "Mitch, he’s
right."

"Excuse me?"

"But I can fix this. Please, trust me."

"You’re as crazy as he is," Mitch said as he
reached into his pocket.

Miranda grabbed Emily’s hand. "I am begging
you, for your sakes. Please trust me."

"Didn’t Jessie trust you?"

Miranda swallowed. Tears came into her eyes.
"She did, and I did something else. Now I can do this." She
squeezed Emily’s hand. "I can do this for her too."

"Put the phone down," Emily said after a
moment.

"Are you crazy? This creep-"

"I know! But if Miranda says she can take
care of this, I’m going to trust her."

The man snickered. "Good girl."

"Oh, shut up!" Mitch grabbed the back of his
head and shoved it into the bowl of spinach dip on the table. "I
guess no one needs to know about that, either." Before the man
could get up, Mitch took Emily’s hand and ran with her outside and
grabbed the first cab they could find.

"What was that?" Mitch asked as soon as he’d
given the cab driver her address.

"Michael Abbot, Richard’s cousin."

"Richard?!? Zainab’s Richard?"

"Yes."

"How is Miranda mixed up in all of this?"

"She and Michael were raised together."

"By what, a wolf?"

"Close enough."

Emily let Mitch make her some tea while she
changed. She had just finished telling him everything she knew
about the Abbots, Bartolomes and the Hendricksons when Richard
called. "This is really not a good time," Emily said.

"Tell me about it."

"I finally got to meet Michael."

"What?"

"And I can see why you guys wanted to keep me
away from him."

"No, how could you? He left!"

"It’s a long story."

"Really? Well, I’ve got a short story. He
took them before he left."

"Took what?"

"Took them."

Emily stopped breathing. "How...?"

"I put them somewhere he and I used to play
when we were little. I didn’t think he remembered... He must have
found them before he left, because the door to the room was open
and now they’re gone."

Emily’s lip started trembling. "Where’s
Zainab?"

"In the other room. She doesn’t know."

"Get off the phone then. I’ll talk to you
later." Emily hung up and sipped her tea.

"What did Michael take?" Mitch said after a
minute.

Emily exhaled. "Everything."

~~~

Every time Mitch saw Emily that week, she
ended up receiving at least two texts from Richard. Whatever was
going on, he understood that Emily thought it was much worse than
being assaulted by that creep.

"Wait," Mitch said the next Thursday. "Does
Richard know what Michael did to you?"

"What? I don’t know. Maybe Miranda told
him."

"It didn’t occur to you to mention it?" Mitch
was outraged. The law was imperfect, but why did that mean Emily
and Miranda were responsible for making sure anyone got justice?
She couldn’t even mention it to her friends?

"Please don’t say anything to him-"

"It’s not like we hang out."

"-or Zainab."

Mitch sighed. "Emily... when are you going to
tell me what’s going on?"

"As soon as I figure out how to fix it."

On Friday he’d had enough. "We need to go on
a date, just the two of us, for a few hours, no cell phones."

Emily smiled a little bit. "Where?"

"Anywhere. I don’t care."

He called her that night. "How about a yoga
class?"

She looked at the phone. "Really?"

"I know how much you like yoga, and don’t get
mad, but it seems like you could use something to relax you."

"I don’t want to make you do anything you
don’t-"

"No," he said quickly. "I mean, it might be
fun." They set up a time to meet on Boylston Street before yoga
class. She wondered why he wouldn’t want to meet closer to home,
but didn’t question him. She didn’t want to worry anymore than she
needed to.

He was waiting for her right outside the
studio the next day. "Come on, the class starts in two minutes!"
She wondered why he’d told her to meet him then instead of twenty
minutes ago, but she ran in and set up her mat next to his while he
registered them. He had just settled in next to her when the
instructor walked in. "Welcome to Couples Yoga."

Emily’s eyes widened as she turned to Mitch,
who was grinning like the Cheshire Cat. She could have run out, but
he had placed them in the middle of the room and it would have been
impossible to leave without creating a scene.

All of the couples were directed to sit back
to back for the opening breathing exercise.
Good
, she
thought,
now I don’t have to look at him.
But when the
instructor told them to link arms while they breathed and try to
feel their partner’s energy, Emily scowled.

They turned back around and stood up to face
each other. Then they had to take each other’s hands and squat and
stand in synchrony with their breathing. "Usually, we can practice
this with our eyes closed, but when you do it together, please keep
your eyes open." Emily squeezed her eyes shut, but then the
instructor, who must have seen her, repeated the instruction.

Defiantly, she locked eyes with Mitch.
Go
ahead
, she tried to transmit.
You’re not going to embarrass
me
. His eyes smiled back and he squeezed her hand, as if to
tell her that he didn’t want to hurt her.

They sat on the floor, cross legged, knees
touching, fingers intertwined. The instruction was to grind their
spine, first in one direction, and then the other. Because of the
winding, they were told to close their eyes. Emily felt her hands
and fingers tingle, and by the way Mitch rubbed his hands, she
thought he felt the same.

Feet to feet, hands held, moving back and
forth. Mitch had to bend his long but inflexible legs and winced a
little bit as they began flexing back and forth. Emily tried to
focus on that and not the rhythmic, syncopated breathing between
the two of them.