Page 122 of The Ring
“I’m not,” I declare. “I just think it would be fun to still have some mystery between us.”
“What if I want nothing between us?” he says, moving on top of me, his face too close to mine. There’s a double meaning in his words, and I feel every inch of it.
TJ catches both of my wrists with one hand and pins them above my head. “You’re not getting out of this. I want to know.” His voice is low but playful.
He lowers his head to my neck. I think he’s going to kiss me. I wouldn’t mind if he tried to convince me to tell him that way. But instead, he blows a sharp puff of air against my skin and, with his free hand, starts tickling me mercilessly.
“TJ, stop!” I squirm, laughing so hard I can barely breathe. “I’m going to… pee the bed!”
“I’ll stop if you tell me,” he says with a smirk, enjoying my torment.
I try to push him off me, but I can’t. He’s stronger, and I’m too busy laughing to put up a real fight. “Fine!” I give up between gasps. “I’ll tell you!”
He stops, but before getting off me, he steals a quick kiss on my lips. He shifts, sitting beside me. “Go on then.”
I look at the ring and turn it around a few times. I could give him the quick answer that I like the ring, but that’s not the answer he’s looking for. I have a lot of rings I like, but I don’t wear them every day. I take a deep breath and tell him the truth. “It was a gift for my eleventh birthday—from my mother.”
As I expected, TJ’s face drops. This is the first time either of us has mentioned her since we got back together.
I continue, “I always knew Anthony bought and sent me gifts with my parents’ names on the card, but this one…” I pause and gaze at its sparkle. “He didn’t. I know because he was as surprised as I was.”
I remember how Anthony stared at the box, shocked. He almost ripped it from my hands, maybe thinking she’d sent something wildly inappropriate for an eleven-year-old and wanting to check it before letting me have it. But I was faster. I opened it, and inside was this beautiful, delicate diamond ring. It was one of the few times she remembered my birthday—and the first time she gave me something I actuallyliked.
I shake my head, looking away from the ring. “It’s stupid. I don’t even know why I still wear it.”
But I do know. I try to act like I don’t care about my parents being terrible parents, and most of the time, I truly don’t. I have Anthony, my friends, TJ, and all the money to buy anything I could possibly want. Wanting more sounds… greedy. But there’s a tiny part of me, buried deep down, that still clings to moments like that one. Moments when she acted like a real mother—barely, but still. And sometimes, for a few flickering seconds, I think that part of her isn’t lost forever.
Wearing the ring makes me feel like I haven’t given up hope entirely. I should have long ago. It’s stupid that I still feel this way when I’ve hated her for more than I’ve ever loved her. But somehow, I can’t let go.
I don’t need to explain all that. I know TJ understands. He can relate to it. Having parents who suck at it, but you still want and hope they’ll change.
“It’s not stupid,” TJ whispers. “Nothing that means something to you is stupid.”
I smile. “Let’s change topics.” I don’t want to continue talking about my mother. “What do you think Nate lost in the wager?”
I told TJ about the wager after we finished brunch. He wasn’t mad about it—just a little annoyed.
Chapter 71
Cornelia
Isit in the little sitting area at the front of the stairs on the first floor of my house. Waiting. Bored. And missing TJ.
Since we got back together, we’ve spent every waking moment together. Today is the first day we won’t be seeing each other. As I decided that today would be the day I finally tell Anthony my decision about college.
Sadly, the day I chose seems to be my brother’s busiest day of the year. I’ve been trying to meet him all day without success. But at last, two hours ago, he sent me a message saying he was almost done with a meeting and would come home.
I’m quite nervous about the talk. I hate disappointing him. I know how much he loves working with me. But after all, it’s my life, and I’ve come up with a middle ground that I hope will make things easier. If, after the summer and one semester, I haven’t figured out what I want to do with my life, I’ll go back to study business.
I hear the front door open. I get up quickly, trying to make it seem like I haven’t been waiting for him—even though I have. A moment later, I hear footsteps coming up the stairs.
“Oh, darling?—”
That’s not my brother’s voice.
I glance towards the stairs, and coming up from them is my mother. She looks like she’s wearing yesterday’s clothes—a little wrinkled, messy blonde hair, sunglasses, and an outfit that screams 70s revival. Not the least bit put together, but people online would say she looks fabulous. They love calling her a mix of Kate Moss and Jennifer Lopez.
“Can you tell one of the maids to bring me an ibuprofen and maybe something to drink to my room? I’m not feeling well,” she says to me, touching her head like she’s in agony. Knowing her, she probably is.
