Better than Him

Keep Up

MARA

"Are you sure you want to wear that?"

Derek asked it so softly I almost missed it. We were standing outside the restaurant, and his eyes had gone from my face to my dress and back up again, quick, like he was checking a price tag.

"It's just a dress," I said.

"It's a nice dress." He smiled and tucked a curl behind my ear. That was my nervous habit, but somehow his hand made it feel like his. "I just think it's a lot for dinner with the guys. I don't want anyone getting the wrong idea."

"You said it was just us."

"It was. Then a few of them asked to come." He kissed my forehead. "I'm only thinking of you, babe. I hate it when people look at you the wrong way."

He held the door open and I walked through it. That was how most of our arguments ended. Not with a fight. With me walking through a door.

The table was a set for six. Two of Derek's frat brothers were already halfway through their first drinks, and Jade waved at me from the far end in her red lipstick and her everything-is-fine smile.

"Surprise," she said. "Derek invited me."

"The more the merrier," Derek said, pulling out my chair. Then, loud enough for the whole table, "I saved a seat for Ethan too. Wanted him to come. But I guess he's busy."

The sixth chair sat empty beside Jade. A cold little pinch went through my chest. Derek had invited Ethan? And Ethan hadn't told me?

Jade kept looking at that chair. She looked at it while she laughed and while she stirred her drink, and she checked her phone three times in ten minutes like she was waiting for something that wasn't coming. I noticed it in the same way you notice a picture hanging a little crooked. Then the food came, and I forgot.

Dinner was a performance, and Derek was the star. He told the story of how we met. He put his hand on the small of my back and called me a genius. He told everyone I was going to be a famous journalist someday. He didn't mention the award ceremony he skipped. Nobody ever remembers what Derek skips.

"You're so lucky, Voss," one of his friends said. "She's out of your league."

"Don't I know it." Derek squeezed my hand.

Lucky. There was that word again. I smiled and said thank you. I had learned the right answers like lines in a play.

My phone buzzed against my leg. I slid it out under the table. An email from Professor Adkins, subject line: ‘Your Big Assignment.’

"Who's texting you?" Derek asked. He wasn't looking at me. He was cutting his steak. But the question landed like a hand on my wrist.

"Professor Adkins. The assignment came out." I tilted the screen toward him. He read it out loud, in a game-show voice. "'Campus investigative piece. Find a story this university would rather you didn't tell.'"

The guys laughed. "Do the cafeteria," one said.

"Do parking tickets," Derek said. "Safe."

"I was thinking something real," I said.

A bea followed. Derek smiled. "Real is great, babe. Just make sure it's something you can finish."

I couldn't tell if it was an advice or a warning. I put my phone away, but my fingers were itching. It was the first thing all night that felt like mine.

"A toast," the loud-laughing frat brother said, lifting his glass toward me. "To Derek's best bet ever."

Everyone laughed. Derek's eyes flicked toward his friend, sharp and fast, then smoothed over like water closing after a stone.

"Best decision," Derek said. "Not bet. Decision."

"Yeah, yeah. That's what I meant."

I laughed with them. It was just an expression. Best bet. It didn't mean anything to me.

By dessert, Derek was watching me with his head tilted. "You okay? You keep shivering."

I hadn't been. But I reached into my bag, pulled out my cardigan, and buttoned it all the way up to my collarbone. Derek smiled at me like I had done something clever.

I couldn't have told you when I decided to put it on. My hands just did it.

It was almost midnight when I got back to my room. I should have gone to bed. Instead I opened my laptop, found the university's public records portal, and typed my first search. Budgets. Donor lists. Committee reports. For two hours I forgot to be careful. I could feel my brain waking up, stretching like it had been asleep for months. No counting seconds. No checking moods. Just me and a story I hadn't found yet.

My phone buzzed at 12:03am.

Derek: ‘You were quiet tonight. Did I do something?’

I stared at it.

Quiet? I had talked all night. I had laughed at every joke. I had even told the story about the broken projector in Adkins' class.

But my thumbs were already moving. ‘No!! I'm so sorry. I think I was just tired. Love you.’

I hit send and sat there, heart thudding, with no idea what I was apologizing for.

Three dots appeared. Then a heart emoji. Then; ‘Good night, beautiful.’

I should have felt

relieved. Instead, I felt like I had just passed a test nobody told me I was taking.