He didn’t look up as he said this, thumbing through a handout. She felt all ability to speak rush away from her, down her throat like a drain. Her silence made him glance up. Their eyes met and she felt an intense heat course through her nerves.
“Wren,” she finally answered.
“This is the first time I’ve heard you speak in this class.”
“I’m more of a listener, I guess.”
He smiled and she thought it was one she would do anything to see again. Not because of his striking appearance. That was the least of it. It was the idea that she could have roots, that she felt the need to stay put once and for all.
“Don’t apologize for being a listener. That’s a skill most of us never really acquire.”
She nodded and he placed both hands on his desk, tapping it lightly.
“So . . . Wren. What is it that I can do to help you?”
This was the part she hadn’t thought about. She should’ve prepared a question to ask him that would show how attentively she had listened, how much she was there for him.
“I . . . I was wondering . . .”
“Yes, Wren?”
She wondered right then if he would actually remember her name. Or if he was really good at making people—people like her—feel important.
“I was wondering if you had any additional textbook recommendations?”
He smirked. “You want more readings?”
“Why, yes.”
“My assigned reading is getting too light for you, huh?”
He was smiling and she sighed slightly.
“It’s just—I find it all so very fascinating. I would really love your advice on what else to read.”
He seemed put off for a split second. As if she was burdening him with more to do. But it was quickly hidden with another grin.
“Sure. Absolutely. I’ll bring you a list next week. Does that sound okay, Wren?”
It was all she needed to hear.
He made good on his promise. He didn’t forget. When she descended the steps again, he held up a handwritten list—in pencil on a piece of lined paper. He waved it like a prize and winked.
“I expect you to read this, Wren. All of this.”
Another wink. It was their little joke. Their own secret.
She spent the whole week reading as much as she could from the list that she could find in the library. She wanted to impress him. But she couldn’t contain herself until the next class. She went to his office instead. The door was slightly ajar. She was about to knock when she saw a flash of red.
A curtain of wavy tendrils passed by. A girl sat on his desk and leaned forward. He looked so engrossed as the girl whispered something in his ear. His hand reached up and brushed one of the curls.
Wren dropped one of the books she was going to show him. She didn’t remember the walk home. Only that she found herself in Julien’s apartment. She wanted warmth. She wanted a blanket to get rid of the sting that invaded her every thought. Her body. She wanted her body to feel anything or anyone.
As he started to kiss her, she pushed him back abruptly.
This wasn’t the way.
She was determined to stay the course. The seat creaked again at the lecture the next morning. But this time she was glad. This time she wanted to make noise.
CHAPTER 25
ISLA
2001
Mom handed me a white paper shopping bag. She looked away as if something was about to pop out of it. I half expected to see a snake slither out, but instead found a row of pink training bras still on their plastic hangers.
“Is this absolutely necessary?” I held one of them up and rubbed the material as if it were rough and unwearable.
“Isla, you can’t . . . jiggle around anymore. Especially with school starting.”
“Did you just use the word jiggle to describe me?”
“You know what I mean.” Her eyes drifted to my chest and then looked away.
I had studied myself in the bathroom mirror the night before, foggy from my shower. The area around my belly button was soft. I poked it with a few fingers, feathery and light with my touch. My legs had widened at the top, dimpled around the thighs like the surface of a golf ball. Puberty had added weight to every part of me.
Weight.
