“Anastasia…” Christian says uncertainly. His gaze is almost fearful as he anticipates my reaction to this bombshell.

“Wha-” I begin in a tone that is so breathy I feel as though I’m whispering, but I can’t conjure any more strength for my voice. “Why?”

“Let’s go and eat, Ana.” He says, completely avoiding my question. He reaches out to take my hand but I yank it out of his reach and walk around him back into the restaurant.

Our food is on the table waiting for us and I see a relieved look cross the waitress’s face as she watches us sit down. She probably thought we were skipping out on our check.

We eat in silence, or Christian eats while I periodically pick at my food. I can feel his eyes on me for the duration of the meal but I can’t look at him. When he’s finished, the waitress brings us the check and he slips money inside the book. I stand before he does and march single-mindedly out to the car. As I do, I try to take inventory of my feelings. I’m overwhelmed but I don’t know by what? Am I angry, confused, hurt? Yes, I am all of those things. And disgusted. His mother’s best friend? What is she like 40? 50? How long has this been going on? I feel a cold chill run up my spine as the dark thought of an underage Christian being molested by a woman he trusted, old enough to be his mother, crosses my mind. As I get into the car, I actually feel a wave of nausea at the thought.

Christian pulls out of the parking lot and onto the street. We drive for a couple of minutes before he speaks.

“Please say something,” He pleads, but I scoff in return. “Anastasia..”

“What, Christian? What do you want me to say?” I snap, and he winces at my rebuke.

“I want you to say you’ll wait.” He says quietly, and I laugh without humor.

“You want me to wait? So I’m just supposed to sit around pining for you while you screw some woman old enough to be your mother?”

“Not exactly…” He hesitates, and I look at him expectantly, waiting for him to clarify. “I just don’t want you to disappear. I want you in my life, Ana.”

“It’s wrong, Christian and I’m not okay with it,” I say turning to look out the side window.

“You won’t have to know about it at all,” He says, and as if the universe is trying to prove him wrong, his phone rings. It’s sitting in the center console so I can see the screen and it reads: Mrs. Lincoln.

Christian frowns and then looks up at me as if he’s afraid I’m going to launch into an angry tirade.

“Well answer it,” I say irritably. “If you don’t she’ll just call back.” This I know from experience and as I remember that night in Christian’s room, the events start to make more sense. She was angry when I answered the phone because she probably thought I was screwing Christian. I did say he was in the shower.

Good. I think unkindly. Fuck her.

“Hello,” Christian says, answering the phone and I roll my eyes as I hear her voice, although I can’t distinguish the words.

“Yes, I remember. Sunday.” Christian says, concentrating a little too hard on the road so that I know he’s actively trying not to look at me. “No, I’m fine. I’m just pre-occupied with studying. Can I text you later? Thank you. Yes, you too. Good-bye, Elena.”

He sets the phone down on the center console. I can see frustration in his expression as he looks at the road ahead and he bites down on the finger that brushes across his lip as if he’s trying to prevent himself from saying something. His hand returns to the steering wheel, gripping it tightly and he looks at me.

“I’m sorry,” He says, but I don’t reply. I just look away from him. I can feel the sting of tears returning and I don’t know if it’s sadness or anger causing them.

“Will you wait?” He asks again.

“No,” I say in a weak voice that matches the strength of my resolve. No, I will not wait for him, but it’s not an easy decision. There is fire, electricity between us, something that feels inevitable but I will not wait around for him to finish fucking his Mrs. Robinson until he’s ready for me. He’s making a choice and if he wants it to be me, then he needs to choose me.

“Please, Ana.” He begs but I shake my head.

“So, that’s it then?” He asks, and there is an ignition of anger in his tone. “We’ll just go back to ignoring each other? I can’t keep to pretending to hate you, Anastasia.”

“So don’t,” I tell him. “We can be friends.”

“And Carter Reed?” He demands.

“I don’t know what will happen with Carter. I mean, it’s up to him really. I don’t even know if he’ll speak to me after what happened today.”

“And if he still wants you?”

“Then I’ll probably have fewer Friday nights available,” I admit and his jaw clenches.

We pull into the parking lot closest to Grays Hall and climb out of the car together. As we walk around the lot and up the path to the Old Yard, he reaches out and clasps my hand. I look up and see him staring down at our intertwined fingers and there is a look of relief on his face. I squeeze his hand reassuringly before I pull my own hand out of his grasp. I don’t want him to feel bad, but I also don’t want to send him the wrong signals. He looks at me, confused, and then his face hardens. I sigh and we begin to climb the steps to the main entrance of the dorm. We’re just at the top of the steps when the heavy black door opens and Carter comes out.

“Ana!” He says surprised. “I was just looking for you, Kate said you went to breakfast with Christian Grey…” He says and then he sees Christian and his face turns red. Christian glares at him and then turns to me, grabbing me gently by the arm and pulling me towards him so he can whisper in my ear.

“Don’t disappear,” He says quietly, and then he shoots one more look of malice towards Carter before disappearing into the dorm.

“What’s up?” I ask, drawing Carter’s attention away from the main door.

“I just wanted to see if you wanted to come run on the river with me this morning. Why were you out with Grey?”

“He asked me if I wanted to go to breakfast.”

“But I thought you two didn’t like each other?”

I grasp his hand. “Come with me. I need to talk to you.”

We walk to Harvard Yard and take a seat under one of the tall elm trees.

“Something happened,” I tell him, hoping it’s better to get it out in the open rather than beat around the bush.

“What?” He asks, his brow furrowing.

“When we were at breakfast, Christian kissed me. I didn’t ask him to but I also didn’t stop him.”

“You kissed?” He asks, deflated. I nod slowly and give him a moment to absorb what I’ve said and feel what he needs to feel.

“He likes you?” He asks and again, I nod. “Do you want to date him?”

“No, I don’t want to date him.” I say very clearly.

“Well… I suppose we never made any rules or anything.” He says hesitantly. “But there should be rules. Rule Number one: No Kissing Christian Grey.”

I laugh at his suddenly stern tone and nod.

“No kissing anyone but Carter Reed,” I correct him and he smiles. He leans in to kiss me and I meet him halfway. The kiss is still extremely mushy, and wet. Too wet. I pull away from him feeling the need to wipe my mouth but he looks satisfied and I don’t want to hurt his feelings any further.

“What are you doing today?” He asks.

“I think Kate wants to go shopping for Halloween costumes,” I tell him.

“Cool. Send me some pictures of what you buy.”

“Okay.”

“Tomorrow night there is supposed to be something fun going on down at Sigma Chi. Do you and Kate want to come?”

“Sure,” I tell him. “Kate will be ecstatic I’m sure.”

“Awesome. I’ll text you the details,” He says. I tell him I need to get back to my dorm and work on some homework, but I know Kate is waiting to pounce on me so I don’t know how much homework will actually get done. I leave him at the path crossing as he heads towards Holworthy and I turn to Grays. I walk up the stairs to my dorm and to my surprise, Christian’s door is open. He practically jumps out at me when he sees me pass in front of the door.

“So?” He asks expectantly. I shrug.

“I guess we’re exclusive now.”

“I see,” He says, and I notice his fingers curling into fists.

“Anyway, seeing as we’re friends now I thought I’d let you know that there is a party tomorrow night that we’ll be going to if you wanted to come. I’m going to ask Kate and Jose too.”

“I have plans tomorrow night,” He says sharply and I remember his call in the car.

“I hope you enjoy them, then,” I say with blatant insincerity and turn to open my door. For all the talk of being friends, it’s still extremely tense between the two of us and I wonder if it will always be this way, or just until he gets used to me dating Carter.

When I walk through the door, Kate is sitting at her desk on her laptop. She watches me through her study glasses as I hook my bag over the bedpost and walk around the room gathering my own things to do homework. I settle down on my bed and open my laptop and then look at Kate who is still staring expectantly at me.

“What?” I ask, exasperated but she rolls her eyes.

“Don’t act coy with me, Anastasia Steele.” She chides.

“He apologized and then brought me home,” I say and she lets out a frustrated moan.

“Details!” She groans and I look sternly at her.

“No, Kate. Everything I tell you about him, you tell to Elliot and it worries Christian’s mom. It’s fine. We’re fine. We’re going to try and be friends. That’s it.”

She narrows her eyes but I think she decides to let it go.

“Carter came looking for you,” She tells me, and I nod as I pull out my reading assignment.

“I know, I saw him outside. He wants us to go to a party with him and his friends down at Sigma Chi tomorrow.”

“Ugh… frat party,” She says almost disgustedly and I look at her confused.

“You don’t want to go to a frat party? I thought you’d be all about it.”

“I would have been three weeks ago when I was single,” She says offhandedly, as if what she said wasn’t completely news to me. I knew she really like Elliot, but Kate has never called a guy her boyfriend in her entire dating history. I smile wryly at her.

“Are you telling me that Katherine Kavanagh has finally become a one man woman?” I ask. She smiles, almost embarrassed it seems.

“There have been, discussions…” She says timidly and I smile back at her like the proud best friend I am.

“Carter made rules today, too,” I tell her.

“Already?” She asks, wrinkling her nose and I roll my eyes.

“Yes, Kate. Not all of us live in the same world as you do.”

“He’s probably just worried you’re going to hook up with Christian or something,” She shrugs.

“We’re just friends,” I say defensively.

“I know, but he’s a guy. You can say that a thousand times but he’ll still worry.”

Later that afternoon, Kate and I head into town to look at Halloween costumes. She agrees to be the model and I watch her twirl around in costumes for a sexy sailor, sexy witch, and a sexy kitten.

“This isn’t even a costume,” She says, coming out of the dressing room with an irritated look on her face. She’s dressed in tight black hot pants that look more like panties than shorts and a bright yellow corset with black strings.

“What is it supposed to be?” I ask, stifling a giggle as she pouts and discards the package at my feet.

“A bumble bee,” She says flatly and I laugh. I reach into the plastic back and pull out a black piece of foam attached to an elastic belt.

“Well, Kate!” I say with false exasperation. “You forgot the stinger!”

She glares at me and rips the package out of my hands and disappears back into the dressing room to change back into her own clothes.

When we leave the store, she pouts the entire way back to her car. I know Halloween is Kate’s favorite holiday and she’ll be devastated if she doesn’t find a costume she likes.

“What do you want to be?” I ask diplomatically.

“I don’t know,” She says sullenly. “Something really cool like a dinosaur or a Power Ranger, and not some lame sexy lingerie version, like a freakin’ sweet version that’s dope as hell.”

I laugh at her choice of words.

“Well Jay-Z, perhaps we should focus less on buying a costume and more on making one. We can hit up some thrift stores in town and see if we can find a craft store.”

She smiles with new hope and pulls me hurriedly to her car to drive to the nearest thrift store. We decide on the way that we’re going to be Mario and Luigi together and Kate is digging through the racks of The Garment District for suitable pairs of overalls while I look for long sleeved green and red shirts. Kate finds some white gloves, brown shoes, and red and green baseball caps and then we’re off to the craft store where I buy some gold paint for the buttons and some felt to make the baseball caps say “M” and “L”.

“We should get mustaches,” Kate says, hurrying off excitedly back into the aisles as I make my way up to the register.

When we get back to our dorm, she insists that we start putting our costumes together immediately. She paints the buttons on the overalls gold while I make the hats. It only takes an hour or so and while I’m putting the finishing touches on the “M” patch, Kate talks excitedly on the phone to Elliot who tells her he’ll put together a Bowser costume.

When we’re finished we both stand next to each other in the mirror. I take a picture of the two of us to send to Carter. She throws her arm around me and smirks at my reflection.

“I’m wearing overalls,” she laughs. “I guess it’s time for you to update your Facebook status.”

We both laugh and then change out of our costumes to start on our homework. The next few hours in our room are filled only by the sound of keys being pressed repeatedly on the keyboard. I’m finishing my Frankenstein essay for Survey of British Literature and it makes me wonder if Christian is doing the same thing. But thinking of Christian also makes me think about Carter and the spark that just doesn’t seem to be there. Why is it so easy with Christian but not with Carter? Why is it that every time Christian touches me it’s like my whole body becomes electrified, but when Carter touches me there’s nothing? Is that something that can come with time or getting to know someone?

“Kate?” I ask hesitantly.

“Hm?” She mumbles, not looking up from her laptop screen.

“How do you make your boyfriend a better kisser?”

She turns around to look at me with her eyes narrowed.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, Carter…” I say hesitantly. “We’ve kissed twice and it’s always so wet and mushy.”

“Ugh,” She grunts, her face turning sour. “That’s the worst.”

“I know… it’s like, uncomfortably gross.”

“Dump him,” She says for a second time, turning back to her computer as if the matter is settled.

“Kate!” I moan. “I’m asking for advice to save a relationship I’m really trying to give a chance!”

“Fine. Tell him,” She says sternly, turning back to face me. “Tell him that he sucks at kissing.”

“I can’t do that!” I say mortified, imagining simultaneous looks of hurt, betrayal and embarrassment cross Carter’s face.

“Then dump him. He’s not going to get better if you never say anything.”

“Not even with practice?”

“Do you want to suffer through weeks of mushy, wet kisses to find out?”

“No,” I admit, not because I don’t want to try for Carter, but because kissing him actually makes me uncomfortable. “But he’s so nice…”

“So, then be friends with him,” Kate says. “And date someone who turns you on and makes the world stop spinning when he kisses you.”

A vision of the kiss Christian and I shared behind the restaurant comes flooding back to me and I shudder as the erotic warmth flashes through me at the memory.

“I don’t know what to do,” I say quietly, drumming my fingers on the keys of my laptop absentmindedly.

“Well, while you figure it out do you want to go get dinner?” She asks. I nod and she stands up and grabs a jacket.

The dining hall is mostly empty as it typically is on Saturday nights. We both decide on the lemon chicken and steamed broccoli for dinner and make our way down the long aisle between the tables until we reach our usual place. Jose is already sitting there and I realize as I see him smiling at our approach, that I haven’t seen him in over a week.

“Hi Jose!” I say brightly.

“Ana!” He replies reaching out to hug me. “Where have you been stranger?”

“Study jail,” I laugh and he tells me about how stressful getting ready for midterms has been. Kate tells us about the vacation she’s taking with her family next month to the Bahamas and is in the middle of a story about the last time her family stayed at the resort there when Christian comes up and sits at the table next to me.

“Anastasia,” He says as he places his own plate on the table.

“Hey, Christian,” I say with a smile. This is good, like we’re really trying to be friends.

“How was your afternoon?” He asks.

“Fine,” I tell him. “Kate and I found Halloween costumes and then I worked on my Frankenstein essay. Have you finished yours?”

“Yes, a few days ago. I’m studying for an economics test I have on Monday.”

“Are you coming to the Sigma Chi party tomorrow, Christian?” Kate asks and I look over at her, worried she’s trying to antagonize him, but she looks like she’s really just trying to include him in the conversation.

“A frat party?” Christian ask disapprovingly. “You didn’t say it was a frat party…”

“Yeah,” Kate says. “Ana’s boyfriend know a couple of the guys that live in that house and we thought we’d check it out.”

“Well, regularly drinking with fraternity guys could explain why he seems to be unable to show up for rowing practice on time,” He says irritably.

“No, that’s mostly do to my inability to tell time,” Carter says jokingly, surprising us all by coming up behind us.

“Carter!” I say, startled. I stand up to hug him and he wraps me in his arms and holds me so that my body is flat against his.

“Hey, baby,” He says, and he mashes his lips into mine. Christian stands suddenly and storms away from the table and when Carter releases me, I look after him, concerned. Was that too much? Probably not the best way to start of this new trying to be friends thing.

“What’s Grey’s problem?” Carter asks as he takes his seat.

“His brother got all the good traits,” Kate says smugly, and she turns to Jose to see the new photo book he’s put together. We eat dinner and then I hug Carter and Jose goodbye as Kate and I return to our dorm to finish our homework. As she digs through her bag to find her keys, Christian’s door opens. He looks at me purposefully and I think Kate sees it too because when she finds her keys, she opens the door, and ducks quickly inside, closing the door behind her.

“A frat party?” Christian asks again.

“Yeah, I would have thought to give you all the details but I know you have other plans,” I say, more sharply than I intended. His face hardens so I change the topic. “Why did you leave after dinner? I liked talking with you.”

“I think our friendship will work better without the involvement of Carter Reed.”

“Well, he’s my boyfriend so he’s probably going to be around,” I tell him.

“Isn’t it a little soon to call him your boyfriend?” He asks, the tension around his eyes becoming more and more pronounced. I shrug.

“I’ve got a lot of essay to finish before the party so, since I won’t see you tomorrow night, I guess I’ll see you Monday.”

“Have fun at your party,” He says.

“You too,” I say automatically. I stop and shake my head with disgust as I realize what I just said.

“Goodnight, Anastasia.”

“Goodnight.”

The next night, I let Kate get me ready for the party again. She’s toned down the look from our last party, I think because for the first time ever, she has a steady boyfriend so she’s not trying to attract attention. I leave the dorm dressed in casual but flattering jeans and a t-shirt, my makeup is done, but much more understated, and I’m wearing Chuck Taylors rather than the sky high stilettos. I stare worriedly at Christian’s door as Kate locks up, wondering idly if he’s there or if he’s already left to meet Mrs. Lincoln. I push that thought aside. I’m glad for this distraction tonight. The last thing I want to be thinking about is what Christian is doing right now.

Sigma Chi is a tall, skinny, three story house in the middle of a busy neighborhood. I can hear the music playing before I’ve even rounded the corner to the street and I’m pretty sure the cops are going to be called before this party is over. When we enter through the front door, we wade our way through the crowd of drunk college students until we find Carter with a group of his friends near the back of the house.

“Hey, babe,” He says, reaching into a box and tossing me a PBR. I smile at him and sit on the arm of the chair next to him. He hands Kate her own beer and we stand around awkwardly straining to hear his conversation through the too loud music.

“Oh my god, I love this song!” Kate squeals as the tell-tale It’s Britney Bitch echos through the house. She grabs my hand and drags me out to the living room and we dance to the electric techno beat. Kate is hilarious when she’s not trying to impress a guy on the dance floor. I laugh uncontrollably at the facial expressions she makes to match the ridiculous dance moves she’s busting out. She grabs me by the hands and we pull each other back and forth. When the song changes, she doesn’t stop dancing. I don’t think she’s interested in sitting around drinking beer with Carter all night and to be honest, neither am I. I need something much more interesting to distract me and suddenly I secretly thank whatever divine force it was that made the ever entertaining Katherine Kavanagh my best friend.

“Do you want to go outside?” Kate asks when the song changes again, and I nod, grateful for a break from dancing. She grabs my hand and leads me out the back door where we find even more people swarming about the small, square backyard.

We take a seat on the edge of the back porch and watch, interested, as a group of guys burst through the back door carrying another guy struggling to release himself from their grip. They take him to one of the maple trees near the fence and two of the guys hold him flat against the thick trunk while the rest of the guys Saran wrap him to the tree. Kate and I laugh as the now completely subdued guy screams and curses as he struggles to get free.

“I’m out of beer,” Kate says after she drains the can in her hand. “I see people walking around with plastic cups, is there a keg around here?”

“Let’s go look,” I suggest. We both jump up and I follow her into the house. We find the keg in the living room and Kate takes two cups out of the plastic package and pours us both a drink. We walk back through the house to find Carter but he isn’t where we left him and we can’t seem to find him in the sea of people.

“I need to pee!” Kate shouts over the loud bass pounding from the speakers. “Wait here for me and watch my drink!”

“Okay!” I yell back and she squeezes through a gap in the crowd and disappears. I try and look over the crowd to spot Carter, but I think it probably hopeless.

“Anastasia,” A voice says behind me, and I turn in surprise because the voice doesn’t belong to Carter.

“Christian?” I ask, unbelieving. “What are you doing here? I thought you were…”

“I know,” He interrupts me. “I couldn’t go.”

I stare at him, feeling as though I’m not comprehending the words he’s saying.

“Why?” I ask.

“I don’t know,” He replies hesitantly. I see the blackberry he’s holding in his hand light up as a call comes in. He looks down at the screen and for the first time since I’ve known him, he ignores the call and puts his phone back in his pocket.

“Do you want to dance?” He asks, and he reaches his hand out for mine.

Next Chapter

 

When I wake up the next morning, I lie there reliving the best parts of my dream so I don’t forget them. I can hear Kate’s slow steady breathing in the bed next to me and it makes me feel guilty ruminating over every touch, every brush of Christian’s lips. I feel my teeth sink into my lower lip as I picture his hand caress the skin on my stomach as he moves his fingers lower, lower, lower…

A sudden quick procession of knocks on the door pulls me out of my fantasy and I look at the alarm clock, which tells me it’s 07:15 AM, and then at the door. Who would be bothering us at this hour?

Kate sits up in the bed, being jarred awake by the sound, and looks around the room dazed.

“Was that someone knocking on the door?” She asks sleepily.

“I think so,” I say, and we hear another string of knocks as if in confirmation. Kate throws her blankets off of her as she storms angrily towards the door, obviously ready to let whoever woke her up have it. She pulls open the door and her face hardens even further.

“What, Grey?” She snaps.

“Is Anastasia awake?” I hear him ask.

“No,” Kate says shortly and begins to shut the door.

“Kate!” I exclaim and she shoots an incredulous look at me. I climb out of bed and go to the door.

“What is it, Christian?” I ask.

“Come to breakfast with me,” He says, not a question.

“It’s too early, Annenberg isn’t even open yet,” I tell him but his face doesn’t falter..

“Come to breakfast with me,” He says again, and I can hear the purpose behind his words. I pause for a moment, pondering whether or not I even want to spend time alone with him until I decide my need for answers is more pressing than my concerns about his attitude

“Let me get dressed,” I tell him and I close the door, turning to face Kate as I walk to my dresser. She watches me skeptically as I dress and when I turn to leave she gets out of bed to stop me.

“You’re really going to go with him?” She asks incredulous.

“It’s just breakfast, Kate,” I say defensively.

“Just breakfast? Ana, after these last few weeks I don’t know why you’d ever speak to him again. Besides how would Carter feel if he knew you were going out with another guy?”

“It’s not a date,” I argue.

“Ana,” Kate she says in a tone that tells me she doesn’t believe for a second Christian just wants to have a friendly breakfast together.

“Kate,” I say in the same skeptical tone as I open the door. Christian is waiting for me in the hallway and when I close my door behind me, he begins walking at a brisk, purposeful pace down the hall.

He leads me out to the parking lot and I nearly roll my eyes when he pulls out his car fob and the car that beeps to life has the unmistakable four rings of an Audi on the front. He walks to the passenger’s side and holds open the door for me. I slide into the roomy leather seat and wait patiently for him to take the driver’s seat. Without a word, he pulls out of the parking lot and turns onto the main road. I look out the window as we pass restaurant after restaurant but he doesn’t stop. Instead, he begins pulling on the freeway.

“Where are we going?” I ask finally.

“Out of town,” He says

“Why?” I ask. “Are you going to kill me and dump my body?”

“You think I would have let Kate see you leave with me if that’s what I was doing?” He responds dryly and I narrow my eyes at him.

“Glad to see you’ve put some thought in it at least.”

“I know a lot of people in Cambridge,” He explains flatly. “I don’t want to be bothered or interrupted.”

“Or overheard?” I ask speculatively, but he doesn’t respond. He just continues to look somberly towards the road. I feel more often than not, I’m confused by Christian. Asking him questions is like navigating through a minefield. Clearly he wants to talk to me, otherwise we could have just gone to breakfast or Annenberg or somewhere in town, but he’s also being very obvious about the fact that he doesn’t want to talk… I don’t know, maybe he did just want someone to go to breakfast with and he doesn’t want people to overhear me and my questions. Or maybe he just wants to thank me for taking care of him last night. Resigned to silence and the fact that I’m probably not going to get any answers to my questions, I too just look out the passenger window and watch Cambridge disappear behind us.

It looks like it rained last night and the last of the dark storm clouds are still lingering overhead. As we get farther north though, the sun begins to break through the blanket of gray above us and Christian groans and reaches over to the glove box. I move my knees out of the way so he can open the hatch door and he reaches inside to pull out a pair of sunglasses. I turn to look at him as he puts them on and I realize for the first time how different he looks. He must be extremely hung over, I mean just hours ago he could barely walk. He’s wearing a tshirt and hoodie rather than the smart button up/jacket/sweater combination that I’m used to. Rather than looking as though he just finished a photoshoot for GQ, as he usually does, he looks like any other guy you would find on a college campus after a rough night of partying.

“I’m sorry,” He says quietly, taking me by surprise. I look at him confused. I’m sorry was definitely not what I was expecting.

“What?” I respond, and he continues without looking at me. His mouth tightens and I see him swallow hard as if he’s trying to hold back words… or vomit maybe.

“I’m sorry,” He says again, more firmly this time. “You wanted an apology, fine. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I lost my temper, I’m sorry I touched you, I’m sorry I kissed you. It was wrong, unfair of me, and I’m sorry.” His fingers grip the steering wheel so hard I watch as his knuckles turn white.

“Um… thank you,” I say hesitantly. He glances over at me quickly, probably to see my reaction to his apology and then turns his eyes back to the road as he continues.

“I’m also sorry about what I said to you on the quad that day after class. I was cruel and it was a lie. I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you since that day. I don’t want to stay away from you, Anastasia. I want us to be… friends.”

I stare at him, dumbfounded. Where is this coming from? I think Christian might actually be the most confusing man on the planet. One minute he’s angry with me for violating his privacy, the next he’s completely ignoring me and now he’s apologizing and wants to be friends?

“You want to be friends?” I ask skeptically.

“Yes,” He says and takes a deep breath to continue. “Look, it’s complicated. I can’t be around you the way that your other guy friends can. I’m not like that Jose guy you know or even Elliot.”

“What do you mean?” I ask. He swallows hard and sighs with resignation before he speaks.

“I’m fucked up, Ana. I’m really fucked up and if you were smart, you’d stay away from me. I tried to stay away from you, to let you be, to keep you away from all of my bullshit, but I can’t do it. I want to know you, I want to be around you and talk to you and listen to you, and I can’t keep ignoring you. But there are things about me, about my life, that I can’t tell you and I need you to be okay with that if we’re going to be friends.”

“What can’t you tell me?” I ask

“Ana…” He pleads and I narrow my eyes at him.

“Is it about Mrs. Lincoln?” I ask, and his jaw tightens.

“I don’t know how I can make there are things I can’t tell you any more clear, Anastasia,” He reiterates, and I roll my eyes.

“So you want to be friends, but you don’t want to tell me anything about yourself and I’m just supposed to be okay with that?” I ask, and I can hear the anger I’m feeling starting to leak into my tone.

“Just some things,” He clarifies.

“Some things like Mrs. Lincoln?”

“Yes,” He says, and in that moment, I feel as if all the fears I have and all of my speculations are confirmed. Christian can’t tell me about Mrs. Lincoln because whatever they are doing is wrong and there aren’t many things a middle age woman could be doing with an 18-19 year old boy that he would want to hide.

“I’m not okay with that,” I say quietly, and his head turns sharply to look at me.

“Anastasia…” He pleads, but I cut him off.

“No, Christian. I’m not going to be try and be your friend when you’re living some secret double life that I can’t know anything about. You’ll be lying to me and I don’t make it a habit to maintain relationships with liars.”

“I can’t talk to you because everything I do tell you, you immediately turn around and tell Kate who is dating my brother,” He says in a low, hostile, growl.

“So tell me not to tell her and I won’t,” I say and he takes a sharp, hopefully calming breath through his nose and turns is focus back on the road. I too look forward and realize we are in a small town made up of small red brick buildings.

“We’re here,” Christian says quietly as he pulls into the parking lot of a small diner. I open the door to the Audi and climb out onto the wet pavement. Christian walks around the car to meet me and we go into the diner together.

The hostess leads us to a booth near the window and asks us for our drink order. Christian takes off his glasses and again, I notice how rough he looks. His eyes are bloodshot with dark black circles and he’s paler than I’ve ever seen him.

“I’ll have a tomato juice if you have it, otherwise orange juice, a black coffee, and ice water.” He says hoarsely, and then looks at me.

“Uh… what kind of tea do you have?”

“We have Black, Green, English Breakfast, Chai and Black Currant.” The hostess recites.

“English Breakfast please, and could you just leave the bag out?”

“Sure thing.” She says brightly. She sets our menus on the table and then hurries away to fill our drink orders.

Christian rubs his hands over his face as if he’s trying to invigorate himself and then he picks up a menu. We glance over the selection in silence until a different woman who introduces herself as our waitress returns carrying a tray of drinks. She sets the tomato juice, coffee, and ice water in front of Christian, and the mug of hot water and tea bag in front of me. Christian immediately reaches out for the glass of water and gulps the whole thing down.

“Have you decided yet?” The waitress asks. Christian looks expectantly at me and I gesture for him to order first.

“I’ll have the vegetarian omelet with hash browns, a side of bacon, and wheat toast.” He says. The waitress writes down his order and then turns to me.

“I think I’m just going to have a bowl of fruit,” I say and when I turn to look at Christian he glares at me.

“That’s it?” He demands and I shrug. “No,” he continues, “She’ll have whatever your standard breakfast is. Eggs, hash browns, toast…” He turns to look at me, “Do you prefer bacon or sausage?”

“I’m really not that hungry,” I protest.

“Anastasia,” He chides me and I roll my eyes.

“Bacon,” I acquiesce and he confirms my choice with the waitress.

“How do you like your eggs?” she asks me.

“Scrambled is fine,” I say, and she picks up our menus.

“I’ll bring you some more water,” The waitress says to Christian.

“Bring a pitcher,” He tells her, and she nods before disappearing into the kitchen.

“I really don’t need a big breakfast,” I tell Christian and he turns his head which is resting in the palm of his hand to glare at me.

“You need to eat,” He says flatly and I shrug, deciding it’s better to just drop it than get into an argument in a restaurant in a strange town. Besides, from the looks of him, I don’t think Christian is up to it.

“Are you feeling okay? Maybe we shouldn’t have come so far,” I say.

“The food will help,” He says sitting up, I think doing his best to concentrate on me.

“What were you doing last night that got you so drunk anyway?” I ask. It takes him a moment to answer and even when he does, his voice is still hesitant.

“I’ve been having a… difficult week. There are some things that have come to my attention that I seem to be having trouble accepting.”

“Such as?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll get over it,” He says shortly.

“What, is this one of those things I’m not supposed to ask about?”

“When did you start dating Carter Reed?” He asks, and the sudden question takes me off guard.

“I… uh, we’re not, I mean, really, we’re not dating, just, I suppose technically, uh… We went on a date on yesterday.”

I see a muscle clench in his jaw and raise an eyebrow at him.

“What? You don’t like Carter?”

“No,” He says, his voice actually full of malice.

“Why?”

He snorts. “You mean besides the fact that he seems to have never met a cardigan he didn’t like?”

I glare at him and he shakes his head and continues.

“He’s regularly late for rowing practice, he can’t keep time, he’s crude and immature, and intelligence-wise I’m convinced he only got into this school because his father is a legacy.”

“I think he’s nice,” I say defensively.

“That’s because he wants to sleep with you,” He says and I feel the defensiveness turn to anger. I cross my arms as I reply.

“So?” I ask sharply.

“So, are you going to?” He asks, narrowing his eyes.

“Why would I tell you that?”

“Because we’re friends now.”

“Are you going to tell me why you’re sleeping with Mrs. Lincoln?”

If possible, the color in his face fades even more and his eyes widen.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He says quickly and I glare at him.

“I think you do, Christian.” And as if to prove my point, I hear his cell phone ring. I smile at him smugly and hold my hand out as if to say go ahead answer it.

He glares back but he does reach into his pocket and as he looks at the screen on his phone, I see relief cross his face.

“It’s my mother,” He says smugly and I feel my face shift with chagrin. He presses a button and lifts the phone to his ear.

“Hi, Mom,” He says and then pauses while she speaks. As she does, I see his mouth set in a frown and the gray in his eyes hardens.

“No,” He says finally. “I don’t know what she’s talking about. I didn’t even see Katherine Kavanagh last night.” He looks up at me and glares.

“I don’t know Mom, maybe she’s just a liar,” He continues. “No, I don’t need another session… No, I’m fine. Mom… Look, can I call you back? I’m out to breakfast with a friend. Yes, see, I told you, I’m fine. Okay, I love you, too. Bye.”

He hangs up the phone and looks sourly at me as if to reiterate his point in the car. I can’t talk to you because everything I do tell you, you immediately turn around and tell Kate who is dating my brother.

“That’s your fault,” I tell him. “I didn’t say anything to her, she heard you come home last night, just like everyone else in Grays hall.”

“Well, I wish she would stop giving Elliot a running commentary of my life. My mom is obviously using him to keep tabs on me and the last thing I need is for this to get back to…” He pauses, pressing his lips together in a tight line and looks out the window.

“Back to Mrs. Lincoln?” I ask and he takes a deep, almost resigned breath.

“Last night,” I continue. “You kept saying, you can’t tell her, I’m not allowed, if she finds out I’ll be in trouble…“

“I said a lot of stupid things last night,” He says quietly.

“Were they untrue?” I ask, his erotic words flooding through my mind once again and bringing back the warm feelings from my dream.

“Please stop biting your lip,” He says hoarsely and when I do, he glares at me darkly for a moment, but his gaze isn’t angry, there’s something else there. I stare back at him for a moment and in the intense moment between us I feel my teeth sink into my lip again. He nearly growls as he stands from the table and grabs my hand, leading me out of the restaurant.

“What are you doing?” I ask, surprised, as he makes his way around the back of the restaurant. He looks around as if he’s trying to make sure no one is watching and when he knows for sure we’re alone, he pushes me hard, although not in a way that hurts, against the wall.

He restrains my arms against the red brick wall and pins my body with his own and then, his mouth claims mine. His tongue desperately invades my mouth, probing me, greedily taking all I have, and I feel desire course within me. It burns through me, hotter and hotter like wildfire uncontrolled in the dry August heat. I struggle against his grip on my arms, wanting desperately to touch him, to run my fingers through his hair and hold him in this kiss forever, but he does not release me. I feel his teeth graze my lower lip, pulling it away from my teeth and then his tongue claims me again. His hands shift so that he’s holding both of my wrists with one hand and his free hand travels down my arms, bringing up goose bumps where his fingers brush over my skin. Down and down, I feel his hand graze over my sides, tracing the lines of my breast before continuing on down my back and over my backside where he grips me firmly and pulls my leg forward, hitching it around his waist. I can feel his erection pressing into me and in this moment, I don’t care that he hasn’t given me the answers I want or that we’re in a back alley in a town I’ve never been in. I want him. I need him. Everything else but this evaporates and I’m left only with my burning desire and need, but the kiss ends and he releases my leg, leaving me wanting.

“Christian,” I plead softly and he presses his forehead against mine, his panting breath matching my own.

“Wait for me,” He says, desperately.

“What?” I breathe, unable to comprehend his request through the haze of the desire still burning inside of me.

“Wait for me. It ends this spring, and I won’t sign again. Wait for me, Anastasia.”

“What ends?” I ask, my thoughts getting clearer the more time passes from the kiss but he shakes his head, a symbolic gesture to let me know he can’t tell me.

“I won’t tell, Kate.” I promise and he inhales and pulls away from me so I can see the battle in his eyes as he wars with himself over whether or not to speak.

“Please, Christian.” I beg, preying on his moment of weakness. He inhales deeply, and shockingly, he speaks.

“I’m sleeping with her,” He says, and all the heat from his passionate kiss fades, leaving me cold.

Next Chapter

“That’s all for today class, have chapters 13-20 read by Tuesday,” Dr. Collins says.

I close my copy of Frankenstein and place it into my bag. Once the other people from my table have scooted their way past me and I’m able to push my chair back, I join the throng of students milling their way towards the door. Two guys, who sit in the back of the class, are laughing and when I turn to investigate the noise I see one of them push the other. My first reaction is to intervene, or call the attention of someone who can, but once I realize the confrontation is nothing more than meaningless play, I roll my eyes and continue forward. However, just as I’m about to make it through the doorway, one of the guys in the rough-house match falls into me and I’m pushed into the person next to me.

“Hey!” I complain.

“Sorry,” He says indifferently, not even bothering to look back at me as he smiles wickedly and launches himself at his friend.

I scowl after him and then turn to apologize and thank the person who caught me and who is still holding me upright by my upper arms.

“I’m sor-” I start, but freeze when I see Christian looking down at me, his eyes hard and cold. He drops his hands and looks away from me disinterested.

It’s been a month to the day since I last actually spoke to Christian. It’s actually been several days, maybe a week, since I’ve even thought about him. He’s become so good at ignoring me, or avoiding me rather, that I haven’t even seen him in the last few weeks, other than in this class and during class he sits on the other side of the room and ignores me completely. The first few weeks were rough as it felt childish and… mean, for him to just pretend I didn’t exist, but as the weeks went on and his weird behavior became normal, I found myself paying less and less attention to him

“Uh… thanks,” I say awkwardly. “For not letting me fall, I mean.”

He takes a deep breath in what I guess is irritation or impatience with me speaking to him and steps aside to let me pass through the door. I shake my head incredulously as I walk forward and stride out of the building and towards my dorm.

As I’m walking, I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket but before I pull it out to read the text, I hear Christian speak behind me.

“Hi,” He says quietly, and at first I think he’s speaking to me but a quick glance over my shoulder tells me he’s just answered his own phone. “I can’t fly home this weekend. I have a test on European Market Fluctuations on Monday. Here? Uh, yeah… I could do one night, I suppose. Saturday? No, you’re right, whatever you want. Yes, I will make Sunday work. No, you know that I’m happy to do whatever you need. Yes, I’ll see you this weekend. Bye.”

When he stops speaking I focus very hard on keeping my eyes forward so he doesn’t suspect I was listening to him. As usual though, he stops at the main intersection of walkways in the quad where, today, Ros is already waiting for him.

“Hi, Ana!” She says brightly as I walk past but I don’t stop. I know it may come off as rude, but I also know that if I stop, I’ll have to face Christian again and quite frankly the confrontation we had after class is enough for today.

When I’m back in my dorm, Kate isn’t there which is odd because her classes end earlier than mine do on Thursdays. Usually, we both come back here to do homework until dinner.

Taking advantage of a rare moment alone, I open all the windows and plop down on the bed, letting the too-warm-for-mid-october air breeze over me. It is then that I remember the text I got walking back from class and pull out my phone, maybe it was Kate telling me she’d be back late.

Hey, what’s up?

I smile as I see it’s not from Kate, but from Carter.

Just got out of class, what are you up to?

It takes only seconds for a response to come back through.

Thinking about you. I had a lot of fun last weekend. I’d like to see you more 🙂

Last weekend, Carter and I, along with Kate, Jose, and a group of his friends, spent the afternoon exploring downtown Cambridge. It was a great time, and Carter had been so great. When we went to lunch, he held my hand and told me the next time we should do something, just the two of us. I feel my teeth sink into my bottom lip as I try to reign in the outrageous smile that crosses my face at the memory and it’s good that I do as in that moment, Kate comes in. She’s clearly been out for a run as she’s dressed in gray jogging pants and a baby blue t-shirt, her hair is pulled back in a tight ponytail and her ipod is fastened to the band around her arm.

“What?” She asks, her face breaking into a smile as she sees the ridiculous overly-pleased look on my face.

“Nothing.” I say coyly as I look back at my phone to type a reply to Carter.

Me too.

“Carter again?” She asks smugly. I know that the fact she introduced me to a guy I actually like and who seems to be well on the way to becoming my boyfriend gives her an immeasurable sense of satisfaction.

“As a matter of fact, it is.” I say and she nods.

“Just don’t let him plan away your whole weekend if you’re going to go out with him,” Kate says. “We’ve got to go shopping downtown. Halloween is only a couple weeks away and if we don’t start thinking about costumes now, all the good stuff is going to be cleaned out.”

“Isn’t Elliot coming this weekend?” I ask, Christian’s phone conversation on the way back from class coming back to me in a rush. .

“No… he’s coming next weekend. Why?”

“I thought…” I begin, and then realize on my own that he couldn’t have been talking to Elliot. Why would Elliot fly all the way here for just one day? I quickly think of another answer to the question and blurt out the words a little too quickly for the transition to be natural.

“I thought he would because it’s been over a month since his last visit.”

She looks at me suspiciously and then shrugs. “He had some stuff to take care of and apparently Christian has to study for a test or something so he’s not coming til Halloween.”

I nod as she pulls out her homework and settles down at her desk. He did say something about a test, maybe it was Elliot on the phone. But no, it couldn’t be because someone is still coming this weekend and now something seems off to me. If Elliot isn’t coming to visit Christian this weekend, who is?

I suppose it could be his parents, he did say something about not being able to fly home… but if his parents were coming, wouldn’t Elliot have said something to Kate? I mean all we’ve heard for the past week or so is how desperate Mrs. Grey is to meet her, which aligns well with what Elliot told me in the diner the last time he was here. But who else would fly from Seattle to Boston for one day? Unless it’s… Mrs. Lincoln? She does live in Seattle and in my experience, every time his phone rings it’s her…

I shake my head. What’s wrong with me? A) Why do I care and B) I need to stop finding ways in my head to make this Christian/Mrs. Lincoln thing weird. I can’t blame this on her… He didn’t like me, he’s moved on and I’m moving on.

I’m distracted by my phone buzzing again and I reach down to read the text from Carter.

Can I take you out tomorrow night?

I beam to myself, knowing Kate can’t see me with her back turned to me at her desk and type a quick response.

I’d really like that.

Yes, I’m definitely moving on.

Then, it’s a date! Meet you at Grays at 6?

Sounds good!

I set my phone slowly down on the bed and look at the back of Kate’s head.

“Kate,” I say casually. “You didn’t plan on going shopping tomorrow night, did you?”

“I don’t know, maybe,” She responds, not looking up from her homework. “Either tomorrow night or Saturday, why?”

“Because I have date tomorrow night, so I won’t be available,” I say, unable to stop my smile. Kate turns around, her mouth open and face bright with jubilation.

“Really?”

I nod my head.

“Ahh!” She squeals and launches herself across the room at me. I laugh as she practically tackles me in my bed and wraps her whole body around me, hugging me tightly.

“Just think,” she says, “If you do get married, it will be because of me.” She squeals and the joy in her voice is almost funny.

“Slow down, Kate,” I laugh. “It’s a first date.”

“But you like him, right?” She asks, sitting up and looking more serious now.

“Yeah, I think so,” I say. “He’s funny and smart and we had a good time together last week when we all went out together.”

“I’m happy for you,” She says with a smile and I smile back as my phone buzzes again. Carter asks if I want to meet him in the morning and watch his rowing practice and I tell him I’d love to. Kate agrees to go with me and the next morning we wake up early and head down to Newell Boathouse before breakfast.

We lay a quilt down over the grassy hill that slopes down to the river and we talk together until we hear the doors to the boathouse open and we can see the long rowing boat slide down the cement ramp. A group of 8 guys push the boat off the dock and into the river. They carefully climb into the boat and push off into the water with their oars.

“You know they’re supposed to be really good,” Kate says to me quietly as we watch them dip their oars in the the water and slowly move to the middle of the river. “I’ve heard they might be olympic contenders.”

“Really?” I ask, impressed. I squint at the boat, trying to decipher which one is Carter and see him in sitting in the middle. He looks over and waves at me and I smile and wave back.

“Reed, pay attention!” The guy sitting in the back screams at him and I look over and see the yeller is Christian. Crap. I now remember seeing rowing practice on his schedule. Why didn’t I remember that? I don’t know if I’m prepared to deal with him this morning. Christian turns around to glare at us while Carter turns his attention back to what he’s doing and I smile at him hoping to diffuse the situation. He looks at me for a moment and then glances back and forth between Carter and I before turning his attention back to rowing.

“I forgot Christian rowed crew,” Kate says, with her brow furrowed. “What’s his problem?”

“Me, probably,” I say as the boat gets into position and they begin the strenuous strokes to move the boat upstream. While they practice, I notice Christian barking orders and yelling at different members of the team, especially Carter. After about an hour, they pull the boat back to the dock and head into the boathouse to clean up. Carter is one of the first people to come out and he waves as he runs up to me.

“Hey, Ana,” He says, wrapping me in a hug and kissing my hair. “Thanks for coming out.”

“Yeah,” I say, “It was fun to watch. Besides, from what I hear we could be watching future olympic contenders.”

He laughs. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. We’re just hoping to win our meet next weekend.”

“I think you guys were awesome,” I say. “I was surprised by how smooth the boat moves, almost like it’s gliding. How do you keep it from rocking on the water?”

“Oh that’s the job of the guys in the front and in the back. I’m a power rower, the steam engine.” He laughs.

“Ok,” Kate says looking down at her phone. “I’ve got to get to class.” She steps forwards and hugs him. “You did great, Carter. I’ll see you tonight?”

“Yeah,” He says. “Have a great day, Kate.”

“I will. Bye, Ana. I’ll see you at lunch.”

With that, she turns around and rushes up the hill towards campus. I reach down to pick up the blanket folded on the ground at my feet.

“I’ve just got to go drop this off and then do you want to go get breakfast in Annenberg?” I ask.

“Sure,” Carter replies and he looks down at the ground. “Did I bring my bag out of the locker room?’

“I didn’t see…” I begin but stop when I look over his shoulder and see Christian storming up the lawn towards us. Carter turns just in time for Christian to shove a backpack, roughly into his chest.

“If you can’t learn to keep time, Reed, we’ll find someone who can,” He says coldly. He glares down at me and then continues to walk angrily up the hill in Kate’s wake. What’s his problem?

“That’s my captain,” Carter explains, “Lovely fellow.”

“Yeah, I know,” I say, staring after Christian. “He lives across the hall from me and he’s not my biggest fan either.”

“Well, should we drop that off so we can get something to eat?” Carter asks.

“Sure,” I agree and we walk off towards Grays hall.

That night, Kate helps me get ready for my date with Carter. I borrow a little black dress from her that has classic lines but is still a little sexy. Carter picks me up at seven and drives me to a restaurant just off campus in his cobalt blue Mazda 6. I wonder, as my fingers caress the fine leather upholstery, if everyone I know drives a nice car. This car isn’t nearly as nice as Kate’s Mercedes, but it’s new. I’ve never owned a new car in my life. In fact, I’ve never even owned a car at all.

When we get to the restaurant, we sit at a candlelit table and as we glance over the menus, there is an almost awkward silence. The waitress takes our order and Carter launches into a long diatribe about himself: high school, rowing, his friends back home, all the things he hopes to accomplish in his time here at Harvard, and his plans for the future. I don’t get a word in all night and by the time the check comes, I’m really struggling to pay attention to what he’s saying. I don’t understand. I’ve been out with him in a group before and he was so good at conversation then. Is he just nervous because this is the first time we’ve been alone together or because we’re on a date?

When he’s paid the check, we walk out of the restaurant and back to his car. I’m wondering what else he has planned for the night, hoping it’s more exciting that dinner was, but he just steers the car back to campus. Is that it?

I try not to look disappointed or ungrateful as he opens my door for me when we’re parked in the parking lot closest to the dorms. I mean, he did buy me dinner. He takes me by the hand and walks me back to Grays hall, stopping at the main doors.

“I had fun tonight,” He says, and I have to stop myself from raising a disbelieving eyebrow at him.

“Yeah…” I say, trying to hide my disappointment. “Thanks for dinner.”

“Anytime,” He says, and he leans forward, closing his eyes. He’s going to kiss me. This is it, put up or shut up. I close my eyes and meet him the rest of the way. He lips push softly into mine, almost too softly. The kiss feels a little mushy even and it lasts only a second or two. He pulls away, brushing his thumb lightly over my cheek in an affectionate gesture. I force myself to smile back at him, feeling very confused about the kiss. It wasn’t good. That was our first kiss and it wasn’t good. This whole night has been, well very bland and I’m left bereft. I wanted so much for this date to go well… were my expectations too high?

“Good-night, baby,” He says sweetly, and I smile back at him, hoping my discontent doesn’t show in my expression because I really do like this guy. I want this to work.

“I’ll see you later,” He tells me as he makes his way down the stairs towards the yard. I wave at him as he leaves and then turn to walk into the building. My movements seem almost mechanical as I try and work through the lackluster date in my head. Where did it go wrong?

When I get back in the room, I can hear Kate in the shower so I take off my shoes and sit on my bed, pulling my laptop out to check my email. After a few minutes, I hear the shower turn off so I prepare myself to face the Katherine Kavanagh Inquisition.

“Oh, you’re back,” Kate says with a tone of surprise when she comes out of the bathroom. She looks at me puzzled for a minute, clearly addled as she wasn’t expecting me home, probably for hours. She walks across the room to sit on the bed across from me and towels her hair dry as she waits expectantly for me to speak.

“How was your date?” She asks impatiently when I don’t immediately say something.

“It was fine,” I tell her. “He took me to dinner and then brought be home.”

“That’s it?” She asks, wrinkling her brow as if she’s confused by the very notion that a date could include nothing more than just dinner.

“That’s it. He walked me back here and…” I trail off, not really feeling the need to tell her about the kiss-that-missed. Kate, however, is having none of my reticence.

“And… did he kiss you?” She presses. I shrug.

“How was your night?” I ask, using my patented diversion tactic to change the subject.

“Fine, just homework mostly. Elliot called around eight and we talked for a little bit. But, we’re talking about you now. Why don’t you want to tell me about your date? You were so excited about it this morning. Did something happen?”

“No…” I hesitate, slightly surprised that my diversion didn’t work because it always works. “It was just kind of… blah. I don’t know, I was kind of bored to tell you the truth. We went to dinner and talked about his rowing and how he’s trying to get into some secret society here on campus. He didn’t even really ask anything about me and the kiss… I just, didn’t feel anything. There was no spark, no fire. It felt like kissing my brother or something.”

“Dump him,” Kate says immediately.

“Kate!” I admonish mildly. “I’m not going to dump him, he didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You can’t force passion, Ana. If it’s not there, cut your losses now before it gets anymore serious. Trust me, you don’t want to invest months of time and emotion into a relationship that isn’t going to work. It’ll just be that much harder on you in the end. Relationships can’t survive without some kind of spark. What is going to keep the relationship together when you fight if there isn’t something good to work it out for?”

She’s right, I suppose. But does every relationship have to be based on carnal attraction? I mean, Carter is a good guy, I don’t want to give up on him just because we had one bad kiss. I mean, sure, when I’ve pictured what my relationship would be like with my first boyfriend, I always thought it would be the irrational, head-over-heels, can’t-live-without-you kind of love but maybe that doesn’t happen right away. Maybe that’s something that comes with getting to know someone.

“I don’t know, Kate.” I say uneasily.

“Do what you feel is best, Ana, but I’m telling you, if you don’t feel a deep, guttural passion in the beginning, it’s only downhill from here.”

“We’ll see,” I say finally. “I’ll give it a couple weeks to know for sure.”

Kate shrugs and heads back into the bathroom to dry her hair. I change out of the dress I borrowed and into a pair of pajama shorts and tank top and crawl into bed with my copy of Frankenstein. When Kate comes back out, hair now completely dry from her blow dryer, she too crawls into bed.

“Good-night, Kate,” I say, turning out the lights.

“Night, Ana,” She replies and I roll over, feeling my head sink deeply into the pillows and letting all of the stress and tension of the day go as I drift into an easy sleep.

I don’t know how long I’m asleep before I am abruptly awaken by a loud bumping sound outside of my dorm. I sit upright and listen. It sounds as if someone is fumbling their way up the hallway, and not very gracefully. I listen hard to the voices coming up the hall, trying to make out what they’re saying through the walls.

“You can’t tell her,” I hear a very drunken voice mumble.

“No, Christian, I’m not going to tell her. Stand up, I can’t carry you. Come on, we’re almost there.”

Christian? I throw back the covers and walk across the room to the door, opening it slowly to look out into the hall. Christian has his arm slung over Ros who is struggling to both hold him up and haul him down the hallway. I can tell by the droop in his eyes and the lack of coordination in his movements that he’s clearly drunk.

“I’m not allowed,” He continues to slur, emphasizing the word “allowed”. “If she finds out, I’ll be in trouble.”

“I’m not going to tell anyone, Christian,” Ros says. “Where are your keys?”

Ros tries to hold Christian upright and dig in the pockets of his jacket for the keys to his room. I can see that she’s struggling so I open the door all the way and step out in the hallway to help her. I grab Christian’s other arm and drape it over me, taking as much of his weight as I can manage.

“Thanks,” Ros says gratefully as she can now turn her body to more easily look for his keys. Christian rolls his head over to me and as he does I can smell the very strong scent of liquor on his breath.

“Anastasia,” He says, elongating the syllables of my name.

“Yes, Christian.” I respond, just as Ros is able to fish the keys out of the pocket closest to me.

“Here you go, Christian.” She says as she opens his door and we slowly maneuver him inside. We walk him over to the bed, where we let him collapse onto the mattress.

“I didn’t think I’d be able to get him here,” Ros admits. “I was in bed when he called. He was all the way across town.”

“Where do you live?” I ask.

“Stoughton,” She replies.

“That’s a long walk,” I say, remembering that Stoughton Hall is one of the farthest dorms from here.

“I know, I wish he would have picked a different night to do this. I have an early appointment and should be sleeping, not taking care of his drunk ass.”

“I can get him into bed if you want,” I offer and she smiles gratefully at me.

“Really? Oh thank you, Ana. I owe you, huge.”

She gives me a quick hug and rushes out the door, leaving me alone with Christian, who may or may not be unconscious. I reach out to pull his jacket off, and as I grab him he stirs awake and pulls away from me. He rolls onto his side and stares at me with alarm.

“I’m not going to touch you, Christian.” I say, remembering his fear of being touched. “I’m just going to take your jacket.”

“Anastasia?” He asks, as if he’s not quite sure it’s me.

“Yes, Christian. Come on, work with me to get into bed.”

“You’re trying to take off my clothes,” He says wryly. “Is that what you want, Anastasia? To take my clothes off?”

“Right now, Christian, yes. I want to get you out of this jacket and your shoes so you can get into bed.”

He smiles wickedly at me and reaches out to grab me by the arm. When his fingers wrap themselves around my forearm, he pulls me swiftly and gently onto the bed next to him and rolls over slightly so that he’s partially on top of me.

“Oh, Ana.” He practically moans. “I wish you knew the things I want to do to you. The things I could do to you. The things I could make you feel.”

“Let me up, Christian,” I demand trying to worm my way out from underneath him. He looks down at me more sternly.

“She won’t always be in charge, you know. One day I’ll be in charge. Would you like that, Ana? Would you like it if I told you what to do? If I made you mine?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Christian. Let me up,” I say firmly.

“Mmm, Ana. Let’s just fuck. Right now…” He says, inching his face closer to mine. “I can do things to you Carter Reed could only dream of doing. Let me prove that to you. Let me make you come, Anastasia.”

“Christian!” I exclaim, pushing hard against him and successfully getting to my feet. He turns around to face me, a longing in his eyes.

“Anastasia, please,” He says. “I want you, need you. I don’t care what she says. I don’t care what she does.”

“What who does, Christian?”

“Ana…” He mumbles and I can see I’m losing him again. His eyes close and his head droops but he doesn’t seem to be having any trouble breathing so I grab hold of his jacket and am finally able to get it off of him. I turn around and hang the jacket on the hook by the door and then return to remove his shoes. He falls back on the bed and I’m able to push him so that he’s laying on his side correctly on the bed. Once I stuff a pillow under his side so I’m sure he won’t roll off and will stay laying on his side, I find a glass and head into the bathroom to fill it with water from the sink. I also find some tylenol in a basket on a shelf and bring the bottle and the glass of water and set them both on the nightstand next to his bed.

“Goodnight, Christian,” I say when I’m sure he has everything he needs, then turn out the light and close his door behind me.

“What’s going on?” Kate asks. She’s sitting up in bed, the lamp on the table next to her turned on.

“Christian came home drunk. His friend Ros brought him home but she lives across the yard so I told her I’d get him sorted out if she wanted to head back.”

“Hmmm…” Kate says disapprovingly.

“What?” I snap at her, not appreciating the judgemental look in her eyes. She’s been in that same state plenty of times and I always take care of her. Christian doesn’t have a roommate, why shouldn’t I help?

“No, it’s not you,” She says quickly. “It’s just, Elliot said Christian used to have a problem with alcohol when he was in high school but that all go sorted out when he was about 15. I guess it didn’t, he must have just gotten better at hiding it.”

“Well, it’s really none of our business.” I say, crawling back into my bed and reaching over to turn the lights off.

“I guess,” Kate says, though I can tell by her tone she thinks it’s very much her business, or at least something she should tell Elliot. I don’t say anything to her though, my mind is racing with the words Christian said to me.

Let me make you come, Anastasia

A shiver runs up my spine as my mind very clearly pictures his lips forming the words. I can feel a deep ache in the pit of my stomach that brings up some strange but welcome heat deep inside of me. Just those words stir me more than the kiss or any other physical touch I’ve ever shared with Carter. I close my eyes and dream of all the things Christian said he wanted to do to me and realize, I want them too.

Next Chapter

 

“Call me in the morning, Elliot. We’ll get breakfast,” I hear Kate say as I bury my face into my pillow sobbing uncontrollably. She closes the door and crawls into bed next to me, rubbing her fingers through my hair.

“What happened, Ana?” She asks softly, but between the horrible shallow and broken breathing and the cries of despair, I can’t answer her.

“Did he hurt you?” She asks, more serious now.

I shake my head and she wraps her arm around me, lying next to me in silence while I cry myself to sleep.

I wake up in the morning to the sound of Kate’s ringtone. The bed shifts as she turns over to reach for her phone on the nightstand and I realized she slept next to me all night.

“Hi, Elliot,” She says quietly, and I feel her get out of bed and rush to the bathroom. When the door closes, I turn onto my back and stare up at the ceiling.

My face feels really tight from the tears drying on my cheeks and I feel flushed. I brace myself for the tears to return, but the more I think about last night, the less I want to cry and the more I want to go across the hall and hit him as hard as I can.

How dare he talk to me like that! How dare he take me home, invite me into his room, kiss me and practically feel me up, and then just reject me like that! How dare he treat me the way he did, yell at me the way he did, when all I was trying to do was help! I lay there, fuming, when Kate sticks her head out the bathroom door.

“Hey do you want to go get breakfast downtown?” She asks softly.

“With Christian’s brother?” I snap, the disgusted tone in my voice really unwarranted as none of this is Elliot’s fault.

She nods her head and I’m going to tell her no, but I decide otherwise. I do want to go get breakfast, I haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday and I’m hungry. I’m not going to let Christian Grey dictate the things I do or make my decisions for me.

“Yes, I would like to get breakfast,” I say, sitting upright and stomping over to my dresser to pull out clean clothes. Kate closes the door to the bathroom to finish her conversation while I run my fingers through my hair and throw on a t-shirt and a well-worn in pair of jeans.

Kate looks much more put together coming out of the bathroom, her blonde hair in a ponytail and a subtle layer of makeup on her face. She pulls out a pair of jeans and a racer back tank top and she’s ready to go. We leave the room and as we do I glare at the door across the hall, almost willing him to come out so I can give him a piece of my mind, but the door stays closed and Kate and I make it out of the building and to her car without a Christian Grey spotting.

She drives through town to a restaurant I’ve never seen called The Friendly Toast. We walk inside the retro themed dinner and find Elliot already sitting at a table near the back. Kate smiles broadly as he waves to us.

“Hey, Elliot!” She says brightly as she takes a seat in the booth next to him.

“Hi, baby,” He says, kissing her on the hair. “How was your night?”

Kate looks worriedly at me and then give Elliot a tight smile. He turns to face me, grinning broadly.

“Hi Ana,” He says.

“Hi,” I reply as I reach out for the menus, but before my fingers touch the laminated paper, I freeze and stare back at him, perplexed.

“What did you just call me?” I ask, and he looks at me guiltily, probably worried he’s offended me.

“Uh… Ana? I’m sorry, do you prefer Anastasia?” He asks.

“No, I prefer Ana, it’s just that… your brother always calls me Anastasia even though I’ve asked him to call me Ana at least three times. I figured your parents just raised you to be really formal or something.”

To my surprise, Elliot laughs. “Oh no, Christian is just really annoying about stuff like that.”

And that’s when it hits me. I’m sitting across the table from Christian’s brother. His warm, friendly, outgoing, completely opposite from the closed off, tight lipped person I kissed the night before brother, who surely has answers to all of the questions that have been burning inside of me since I ran into Christian the first day we met.

“What do you mean?” I press him, trying to hide my eagerness.

“Christian has always been difficult. He came from a really bad family situation and it messed him up pretty bad. When my mom and dad got him, they tried to reverse all that damage that was done to him as a small child, but he was never really able to get over it.”

“Wait, Christian’s not your real brother?” I ask and then blush as I realize what I just said might come off as rude. “I mean uh, biologically speaking.”

“No, we’re all adopted. My mom can’t have kids. She got me when I was about two, Christian when he was four, and Mia was only just a few months old.”

“So if he wasn’t adopted until he was four, what happened to his biological mother?” I ask.

“She died of an overdose. She was a prostitute and a crack addict and just overall terrible person. When they found Christian he was starving and showing signs of neglect and physical abuse. He still, to this day, won’t let people touch him.”

When Elliot finishes I hear Christian’s words ring in my ear. I don’t like to be touched. I think about the way he grabbed my wrist to prevent me from touching him. It wasn’t about me. He doesn’t let anyone touch him. That doesn’t explain the rejection from the kiss though. That was all about me and with that thought, the anger from this morning courses through me again as I remember how it felt when he practically launched himself across the room to get away from me. I snatch up the menu and begin angrily scanning through it, barely comprehending what I’m reading.

“So when are you coming home next?” Elliot asks, turning his attention back to Kate. There is a soft affection in his voice that would normally warm my heart but right now, I find it irritating. Christian pursuing me was the first time anyone has ever showed preference for me over Kate, or at least I thought it was. Clearly, he wasn’t interested at all and Elliot’s obvious affection for Kate is really driving that home.

“I don’t know,” Kate says regretfully. “My family is going to the bahamas on vacation for Thanksgiving. Christmas maybe?”

“Would it make me seem desperate if I asked you to dinner one of the nights I come and visit Christian?”

“No, of course not!” She beams. “When will you come back?”

“I don’t know. My mom is really big on keeping the family close, especially with Christian because he’s always so ready to seclude himself, so I’ll probably be here fairly often. One weekend a month or so. Getting Christian to come home or even come to Stanford for a weekend is pointless, so I’ll be the one doing the leg work.”

“Monthly cross country plane trips?” Kate asks, wrinkling her nose. “That doesn’t sound fun at all.”

“It looks like it may be worth it,” He says, and I look up to see him brush Kate’s hair behind her ear, the way Christian did to me right before he kissed me. Kate’s smile is dazzling and I wonder if Elliot is about to kiss her. Kate has never been one to hold back on the PDA and I don’t think I can handle that right now.

“Christian’s flying back to Seattle at the end of the month,” I say, hoping to distract him. “Won’t you see him then?”

Elliot turns to me, looking confused.

“I haven’t heard that… and I’m sure I would have. Are you sure?” He asks.

“Yeah, it was on his schedule.” Kate affirms, clearly remembering reading it from the excel sheet.

“I’m sure my mom would have said something…” He hesitates but before we can say anything else, the waitress comes to take our order. Kate orders pancakes and eggs, Elliot goes for the country fried steak, but as I look down at the pictures of food on the menu, I think the only thing I can manage is a bowl of fruit. The waitress takes our menus and I reach out to take a drink of water. Just then, we hear the bell over the door jingle and we turn to see Christian in the doorway, scanning the restaurant.

Shit! Elliot didn’t say he invited Christian! Then, I feel stupid for not anticipating this. Of course Elliot invited his brother to breakfast the morning he was leaving town. Christian is probably the one taking him to the airport. I feel myself go red as my emotions bubble up to my face and I don’t know if I want to cry or storm across the restaurant and punch him in the face.

“Christian!” Elliot calls, waving his arm to attract his attention, but when Christian sees Kate and I, his eyes widen and he hesitates for a moment before turning around leaving the restaurant.

“Jesus, hold on.” Elliot says irritably, climbing out of the booth and running across the restaurant after his brother.

“Perfect,” I say and I reach out for my water and slam it down.

“Is he mad at you, or you mad at him?” Kate asks.

“Both, I think.”

“Are you okay, Ana?” Kate asks again, her voice is concerned and she strokes the back of my hand trying to comfort me. “You can talk to me.”

The bell jingles again and Elliot comes back into the restaurant, shaking his head in frustration.

“So, Christian’s not coming to breakfast,” He says, irritated.

“Good,” I snap back.

“What happened last night?” He asks me. “I’ve never seen him act like this.”

I really hadn’t planned on saying anything. I mean, it isn’t Elliot’s fault or problem, but I’m all befuddled after Christian’s unexpected entrance and perfectly predictable departure, so I launch into the story.

“…and when the phone rang a third time, I answered it. I thought maybe something was wrong. I didn’t know who Mrs. Lincoln was, she could have been a member of your family. What if your mom or dad or sister was hurt? I mean, I don’t even know what was wrong. She just told me to have Christian call her back.”

“Why is Mrs. Lincoln calling Christian?” Elliot asks. “I mean, it’s not like he can do any chores from Cambridge.”

“Chores?” I ask, but at that moment the waitress comes up and puts plates in front of us. After we assure her we have everything we need, she leaves and I look expectantly at Elliot.

“He like, cleans her pool and fixes shit around her house.” He says as he digs into his breakfast. “Mrs. Lincoln is my mom’s best friend and my mom sends him over there all the time because she’s pretty much the only one who can put Christian in his place when he gets into his moods.”

“Oh,” I say, “But if she’s just your mom’s friend, why would he get mad that I answered the phone?”

“You’re looking for another reason besides the fact that my brother is like, clinically insane?” Elliot asks, and then laughs at his own joke. I wonder if this is all a little heavy for what is really his first date with Kate. Oh no, this is his first date with Kate. Should I have stayed home?

“Don’t worry about it, Ana.” Elliot says, wrongly reading the guilty expression on my face. “He is probably just worried she’s going to tell my mom that he has a girlfriend. He’s always been weirdly private, even with us, and if my mom thought Christian had a girlfriend, she’d probably fly out here to take you to lunch and ask when you wanted to start planning the wedding.”

“I’m not his girlfriend,” I say sourly, stabbing at my fruit.

“No, you can do much better,” Kate says firmly, and she gives Elliot a look that says stop talking about Christian.

Despite both Kate and I’s protest, Elliot pays for breakfast and I wait awkwardly in the car while they share a long, passionate kiss outside the restaurant. Just before we received the check, Elliot got a text from Christian saying he’d pick him up from his hotel in an hour to take him to the airport. I think Kate wants to take him, but she probably doesn’t want me to have to wait with her at the airport. Normally, I would let her know that I didn’t mind but I do have a lot of homework I have to catch up on today and really all I want to do is get in my pajamas, put some break up songs on my iPod, and forget this weekend ever happened. Elliot waves goodbye to me through the car windshield as Kate walks back to the car, and despite how horrible I feel today, I can’t help but smile and wave back. Elliot really is a great guy and I’m happy Kate found him. I hope she sticks with this one.

Kate climbs into the car and looks after Elliot sadly. His hotel is just across the street from the restaurant and when he goes through the door and we can’t see him anymore, Kate sighs and drives away.

“I think I really like him,” She says as we pull back into the parking lot closest to Grays. “I think he might even be relationship material.”

“I like him too, Kate.” I assure her with a smile.

We both spend the day in bed catching up on homework. Kate urges me to go to dinner with her around six but I just don’t feel up to it. By the time the sun goes down I’m exhausted, not having slept well the night before, so I decide to call it a night and turn off my lamp to go to bed.

The next day passes by in a daze and for the first time since I’ve been to Harvard, I feel as though I’m just going through the motions of the day: attend class, work at the library, do homework. Fortunately, I don’t see Christian at all that day, but I know that I will tomorrow. There is no avoiding it. Even without the study session that we scheduled for tomorrow night, I’ll still see him in class that afternoon.

But maybe that’s not a bad thing… Maybe avoiding him is the wrong approach to this whole situation. We live across the hall from one another, we’re going to run into each other eventually. Maybe the best thing to do is just confront him, give him a piece of my mind, get everything in the open, and move past it. So he’s not going to be my boyfriend, does that mean we can’t at least be civil to one another?

I spend Tuesday morning rehearsing what I’m going to say to him but I know that saying it in my mind and saying it under the penetrating gaze of his hard, gray eyes will be another thing entirely. But by the time Survey of British Literature rolls around, I’ve resolved to settle the issues between us.

When I get to class, I sit in the same seat I sat in last week, where Christian sat next to me, in an attempt to make it clear that I’m not intimidated by him or willing to let him dictate my actions. I pull out Great Expectations and the paper I’ve written on social constructs, and wait for class to start. When Christian does get to class, he sits on the opposite side of the room from me, staring down at his own paper on his desk, refusing to even look at me. The entire class is spent like a cold war, each of us refusing to make eye contact first. When Dr. Collins releases us, Christian is the first person out of his seat and out the door. He successfully avoids the now standard bottle neck of students that forms at the door and by the time I make it out of the building, he’s so far ahead of me he’s nearly out of earshot.

“Christian!” I yell angrily as I march quickly up the walk, trying desperately to outpace him. Begrudgingly, he stops and turns to wait for me, an impatient look on his face.

“What?” He snaps when I catch up to him.

“What you mean, what?” I say with equal contempt. “You don’t think you owe me an apology for Saturday?”

“I owe you an apology?” He asks, flabbergasted, as if what I’ve said is the most absurd thing he’s ever heard. “You violate my privacy, get involved in my personal affairs, talk to my family about my personal life without my consent and you expect an apology from me?”

“I was looking out for you, I thought there might have been an emergency! And, I’m sorry that Elliot hooked up with my best friend and was talking to me about you, but maybe if you were more open with your family you wouldn’t have to worry about what people say to them. The way you treated me that night was unacceptable and if you’re not going to apologize, the least you can do is give me an explanation.”

“The explanation is that we can’t be friends,” He says shortly.

“Friends?” I scoff. “We can’t be friends?”

“No, Anastasia, we can’t. Look, I think you’re a good person. Smart, witty,  beau—but I can’t see you anymore. I’m not good for you and I just…” He hesitates as his phone rings.

“Mrs. Lincoln?” I ask angrily as he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

“I have to take this,” He says, turning away from me.

“Yeah, I bet you do,” I snap, and my tone is so full of venom it even surprises me.

“Good-bye, Anastasia,” He says and he turns towards the library, bringing the phone to his ear as he walks away.

I stare after him seething. He doesn’t want to be friends? Fine with me. I storm angrily to my dorm, stomping up the stairs.

“What’s wrong?” Kate asks when I slam the door closed.

“Nothing,” I lie, “I’m fine.”

Unfortunately, Kate knows me better than that and she shuts her book and sits on the edge of her bed, staring at me expectantly.

“I yelled at Christian after class today and it didn’t go the way I had planned.”

“What happened?” She asks.

“He told me we can’t be friends.”

“What do you mean?”

“He said, ‘I’m not good for you, and we can’t be friends’.” I quote him.

“And that’s it? No apology, no explanation?”

“Nope,” I say sourly, pulling books out of my bag in harsh, angry movements.

“He kissed you though… He invited you into his room and he kissed you.”

“I know. Believe me, I know.”

“This whole thing is very strange. I mean, okay… I talked to Elliot today and he said Christian has never had a girlfriend, ever. His family thought he was gay and… maybe he is. Maybe he’s confused or something.”

“That makes me feel great… ‘Oh, I wonder if I’m gay, I better kiss Ana. Yep, definitely gay’.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Kate says trying to backtrack. “And maybe that’s not it. Elliot says Christian has been fighting with their parents since he graduated last spring. Apparently, he really doesn’t want to be here at all but they told him if he didn’t go to college, they would cut him off. So maybe he’s just made up his mind to be unhappy here and you were getting in the way of that. You were giving him a reason to want to be here and it freaked him out.”

“Well if he’s so damn unhappy here, maybe he should just leave. Some of us had to work excruciatingly hard to get here. Some of us weren’t handed an ivy league education on a platter,” I say bitterly. Kate just stares at me, giving me the chance to vent if I need to but to be honest, I’m exhausted. This whole ordeal is just too much to handle and quite frankly, I’m ready to move on. Christian has been an unwelcome distraction from what I’m here to do anyway and that is build a life for myself where I can be free to do whatever I want and to take care of my family.

“Whatever,” I say, picking up a book and plopping down on my bed to begin my reading assignments for the night. “Let’s just forget about it. I don’t want to think or talk about Christian Grey anymore.”

“Good,” Kate says. “More frogs to kiss, more chocolates to try.”

I nod in agreement but really, I think this whole thing has put me off from dating for a while. Ray had it right. Focus on my studies, the relationship stuff will happen when it happens.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Kate says. “One of the guys in my journalism class invited us to a bonfire Sunday night. Should be a fun way to relax, and you could invite Jose. What do you think?”

“Sure,” I say, though I immediately wish I would have been less committal. The last party I attended with Kate, didn’t go so well.

“Good, I’ll let him know.”

I spend the rest of the week burying myself in my studies, doing everything I can to forget and move on from the Christian ordeal. Unfortunately, I see him everywhere. I find I’m running into him in the halls of Grays much more often than I ever did before, I pass him in the quad between classes, and whenever I’m at work, he’s there. In Survey of British Literature on Thursday, I repeatedly get the feeling I’m being watched and sure enough, when I glance over at Christian, I see him staring at me. He’s like a ghost, a haunting figure that I can’t talk to or interact with, but is a constant presence around me. Or a stalker.

But on Friday night, as Kate and I head out to dinner, Christian comes out of his room with a full duffle bag over his shoulder. He looks apprehensive as he glances over to us standing across the hallway from him, but then he disappears down the hall and that’s the last time I see him all weekend. I don’t see his light come on under his door that night or on Saturday and I don’t see him in the dining hall, which is odd considering I couldn’t shake him during the week. On Saturday afternoon, I even spend most of the day in the common area downstairs studying and doing homework, but I never see him come in or out of the building. I almost wonder if he had a bag with him because he went home for the weekend, but then I remember Elliot saying that getting Christian to come home was nearly impossible and on Sunday morning, Elliot tells Kate that he’s been trying to get a hold of him all weekend but his phone keeps going to voicemail.

“No, I haven’t seen him,” Kate says into her phone and I look at her, perplexed as she listens to whatever Elliot is saying on the other end.

“Well, it’s not as if we’re really on speaking terms right now. I guess the last time we saw him was when he was leaving his room Friday night. He had a bag with him, maybe he just got out of town for the weekend. Yeah, if I see him, I’ll text you.” She promises as she says good-bye, she shrugs as she hangs up the phone. Part of me wonders if I should be concerned, if I should be doing something, but a nasty voice in the back of my head reminds me that that is something a friend would do and he doesn’t want to be friends. In the end, despite my unkind thoughts, I decide that if I don’t see him by Monday night, I’ll talk to someone.

That night, Kate, Jose and I head down to a sandy spot on the banks of the Charles River. There is a huge bonfire surrounded by 4 or 5 students drinking vodka out of plastic water bottles. At first I was a little hesitant to join Kate here tonight. I’m never really comfortable in intimate settings with people I don’t know but everyone is nice and welcoming and the warmth from the fire and the vodka makes me relax and let my guard down..

There is a guy named Logan who plays guitar for us and Jose has everyone laughing when he tells a story about how the parents of his high school girlfriend had parental controls on her phone that allowed them to view every text message she got, including pictures.

“Needless to say, we had some awkward dinners after that.” He says to a chorus of laughter. He winks at me and I smile, glad to see him enjoying the attention. Jose is an entertainer and he’s in his element. Kate spends a good deal of time trying to get me to talk to a guy named, Carter who is studying pre-law and comes from a wealthy family from Georgia. I tell him about my mother’s idea of moving to Savannah and he promises me a personal guided tour on my first trip. When we leave that night, he asks me if I want to get coffee or something on campus and I can barely take the look of smug satisfaction on Kate’s face as I write my number on a scrap piece of paper he fished out of his backpack.

When it starts getting a little too late, we head back to the dorms and Kate and I wave goodbye to Jose as we walk through the door to Grays. We’re laughing together, retelling our favorite stories of the night, but stop when we hear the melancholy tones coming from the piano in the grand foyer. We look to see who is playing and I feel a flash of relief when I realize it’s Christian. I guess I had been more worried than I let myself realize, and I’m glad to see he’s okay.

I’m no longer angry with him, no longer saddened by what happened last week, but it feels uncomfortable being around him now because deep down, I feel there is something between us that is unfinished. Besides, without the red haze of anger obscuring my view every time I look at him, for the first time in over a week I can truly appreciate how beautiful he is again. I glance over to him and as he sits in the dark room, flooded with moonlight from the oversized window, I can see that he looks… sad. I can’t be sure, because the room is so dark, but I think I see a red mark covering most of the left side of his face, like he’s been in a fight or something. What has he been doing? Maybe he isn’t okay after all, did he get into trouble over the weekend?

“Come on,” Kate says sourly, interrupting my thoughts and motioning for me to follow her as she storms towards the stairs, purposely refusing to look at Christian.

She stops at the bottom stair and turns to look at me, imploring me to join her with her eyes, so I nod and walk towards her. She continues up the stairs but before I reach the first step the music from the piano stops.

“Ana,” Christian whispers, and I can hear a desperate pain in his voice. The surprise of him calling my name, not just my name, but ‘Ana’, makes me pause. He’s never called me Ana, never. After all this time, everything that we’ve said, or haven’t said, everything that has happened, now he’s speaking to me?

I wait for him to continue but he says nothing. I know he knows that I’m still standing here, I know he knows I’m waiting for him to speak, but he doesn’t say anything more. We stand in silence, facing away from each other, on opposite ends of the room for a moment, and then the music starts again. I take a breath, reach out for the railing and continue up the stairs after Kate, leaving Christian alone with his music in the dark room below.

Next Chapter

I went to bed Thursday night disappointed, not having received an email from Christian, but when I wake up the next morning, his email is waiting for me in my inbox.

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Survey of British Literature, Study Sessions

Date: September 7th 2007 02:16 AM

To: Anastasia Steele

Attachment: September_2007.exe

Anastasia. I have an open evening on Mondays around 7:00 PM or Tuesdays 6:00 PM. Please let me know if these times fit into your schedule. If they do not, I have attached a copy of my schedule so that you might find a more suitable time. Please keep in mind, I try to schedule as little as possible on the weekends as I may need to clear my schedule at a moment’s notice. My brother’s flight comes in at 04:45 Friday evening, please forward me the details for the party on Saturday.

-Christian Grey.

Holy cow, he sent this at two-sixteen in the morning? I wonder why he was up so late last night? I suppose a double major in economics and politics with electives in literature and god knows what else probably does create a lot of homework but two AM? Yikes!

It just so happens that Tuesdays at 6 work fine for me but before I email him back I decide to take a quick peek at the schedule he’s sent to me. When I do, I’m floored by the number of things he packs into one day.

Monday:

05:00 AM-06:30: Gym, Regimented Weight Training #3

06:45 AM- 08:00: Team Rowing Practice, Newell Boathouse

08:30 AM- 09:00 Breakfast, Annenberg Dining Hall

09:10 AM – 10:10: Economics 1010A: Microeconomic Theory

10:20 AM- 11:20: Economics 1035: Market Failure, The Economics of Regulation

11:30 AM- 12:30: Government 10: The Foundations of Political Theory

12:30 PM- 01:40: Lunch, Annenberg Dining Hall

01:50 PM-02:50: Economics 1393: Poverty and Development

03:00 PM- 04:00: Government 20: Foundations of Comparative Politics

04:00 PM- 05:00: Study, Library

05:00 PM- 05:30: Dinner, Annenberg Dining Hall

06:00 PM- 07:00: Standing Appointment, Dr. A. Fisch.

07:00 PM -09:30: [OPEN]

09:30 PM-10:30: Scheduled Session, Paine Hall

10:30 PM-12:30: Homework

Tuesday:

05:00 AM-06:30: Gym, Kickboxing session with J. Waithe

06:45 AM- 08:00: Team Rowing Practice, Newell Boathouse

08:30 AM- 09:00: Breakfast, Annenberg Dining Hall

09:10 AM – 10:10: Government 40: International Conflict and Cooperation

10:20 AM- 11:20: Government 94au: Political Economy

11:30 AM- 12:30: Economics 1389: Economics of Global Health

12:30 PM- 01:40: Government 94bp: Business, Power and American Politics

01:50 PM-02:50: Lunch Study Group, Economics 1035, Salts Restaurant

03:00 PM- 04:00: English 131: Survey of British Literature

04:00 PM- 05:00: Business Development Research and Drafting

05:00 PM- 05:30: Dinner, Annenberg Dining Hall

06:00 PM- 07:00: OPEN

07:00 PM -09:30: Study Group, Government 40

09:30 PM-12:00: Homework [Available per E. Lincoln Schedule]

Wednesday:

05:00 AM-06:30: Gym, Regimented Weight Training #6

06:45 AM- 08:00: Team Rowing Practice, Newell Boathouse

08:30 AM- 09:00 Breakfast, Annenberg Dining Hall

09:10 AM – 10:10: Economics 1010A: Microeconomic Theory

10:20 AM- 11:20: Economics 1035: Market Failure, The Economics of Regulation

11:30 AM- 12:30: Government 10: The Foundations of Political Theory

12:30 PM- 01:40: Lunch, Annenberg Dining Hall

01:50 PM-02:50: Economics 1393: Poverty and Development

03:00 PM- 04:00: Government 20: Foundations of Comparative Politics

04:00 PM- 05:00: Study, Library

05:00 PM- 05:30: Dinner, Annenberg Dining Hall

06:00 PM- 07:00: Standing Appointment, Dr. A. Fisch.

07:00 PM -09:00: Study Group: Economics 1389

09:00 PM-12:00 AM: BLOCKED [Per E. Lincoln]

Thursday:

05:00 AM-06:30: Gym, Cardio

06:45 AM- 08:00: Team Rowing Practice, Newell Boathouse

08:30 AM- 09:00: Breakfast, Annenberg Dining Hall

09:10 AM – 10:10: Government 40: International Conflict and Cooperation

10:20 AM- 11:20: Government 94au: Political Economy

11:30 AM- 12:30: Economics 1389: Economics of Global Health

12:30 PM- 01:40: Government 94bp: Business, Power and American Politics

01:50 PM-02:50: Lunch Study Group, Economics 1035, Salts Restaurant

03:00 PM- 04:00: English 131: Survey of British Literature

04:00 PM- 05:00: Investment and Acquisition Strategy, Ros Bailey

05:00 PM- 05:30: Dinner, Annenberg Dining Hall

06:00 PM- 07:00: Open Session, Paine Hall

07:00 PM -09:30: Study Group: Government 94bp

09:30 PM-12:00: Homework [Available per E. Lincoln Schedule]

Friday:

05:00 AM-06:30: Gym, Regimented Weight Training #1

06:45 AM- 08:00: Team Rowing Practice, Newell Boathouse

08:30 AM- 09:00 Breakfast, Annenberg Dining Hall

09:10 AM – 10:10: Economics 1010A: Microeconomic Theory

10:20 AM- 11:20: Economics 1035: Market Failure, The Economics of Regulation

11:30 AM- 12:30: Government 10: The Foundations of Political Theory

12:30 PM- 01:40: Lunch, Annenberg Dining Hall

01:50 PM-02:50: Economics 1393: Poverty and Development

03:00 PM- 04:00: Government 20: Foundations of Comparative Politics

04:00 PM- 05:00: Study, Library

05:00 PM- 05:30: Dinner, Annenberg Dining Hall

06:00 PM- 07:00: Standing Appointment, Dr. A. Fisch.

07:00 PM -09:00: Study Group: Economics 1035

09:00 PM-12:00 AM: Homework

---

How many credits is he taking? It’s almost as if he is trying to graduate in two years rather than four. And the schedule? He even schedules his free time! The whole month of September is here, and I notice each week is different. Besides class today, he has scheduled to pick his brother up from the airport and dinner in town. It looks like he’s flying home in a couple of weeks, but it still doesn’t tell me where home is. I wonder what his standing appointment with Dr. Fisch is? And what is an Economics major doing in Paine Hall? That’s the music hall. Maybe I’ll ask him when I see him next time I see him. Okay, Ana, focus.

I minimize the spreadsheet and pull up my email again to type a quick reply.

From: Anastasia Steele

Subject: Don’t get lost

Date: September 07th 2007 09:15 AM

To: Christian Grey

Tuesdays at 6 work great for me! The party is at 86 Brewster St. at 8:00 PM. Call me if you get lost. (360) 945-6682.

-Ana

Once the email sends, I pull up his schedule and debate whether or not I should save it to my computer.

No Anastasia, you will not use this to stalk him.

I move the mouse to close out of excel, but I can’t help myself. Instead of save, I hit print and then stare guiltily at Kate’s printer on the other side of the room. Apparently even cosmic intervention isn’t enough to stop my madness because when the document doesn’t print, I go back and hit the button again. When finally, the printer hums to life and gives me the spreadsheet, I stuff it into my bag and head out the door for class.

During the day, I find myself looking at buildings I pass simply because I know Christian is there. I almost skip my 12:30 class just so I can happen to stop by the dining hall and have lunch with him, but I’m afraid if I let it happen now, it’ll become habit and I pay way too much for these classes to just bail.

When I get back to my dorm that night, I don’t fiddle in the doorway with my keys as usual because it’s 4:15 and Christian’s schedule tells me he has gone to pick up his brother from the airport. I sigh as I realize how crazy I’m starting to sound, then open the door to my room and see Kate sitting at her desk, her hair piled on top of her head with wispy strands hanging down over her face. She’s wearing her thick black rimmed glasses that she only wears when she’s in investigation mode.

“Ana!” She cries, jumping up and pushing papers aside as if I’ve caught her doing something she wasn’t supposed to be doing.

“I just got out of class, what’s up?” I ask suspiciously. Her face falters slightly and then hardens with determination.

“Where did you get this?” She demands, and she holds out a copy of Christian’s schedule to me. My face goes red. How did she get that? Oh crap, the 2nd copy must have printed after all!

“He sent it to me to set up a study time.” I explain, wanting to rip the paper out of her hands, but I know the damage has already been done. She smiles and sits back at her computer typing furiously.

“This is a gold mine,” She says happily. “I haven’t been able to find anything on E. Lincoln, too vague, but Ros Bailey is a student here. I looked her up on Facebook and she’s from San Francisco, California, which doesn’t help us at all because Christian already told you he’s not from California.”

“I met her,” I say, almost a little smug to know something the great sleuth Katherine Kavanagh had yet to uncover. “She’s an economics major here, too. They have several classes together and are in the same study groups.”

“Oh,” Kate says. “Well, I don’t think it matters. From her pictures and her relationship history, I think she’s gay.”

At these words, I turn away from Kate to put my backpack down and hide my ridiculous grin. Sure, I knew that they were studying together because they had the same classes, but the fact that Ros was a very pretty girl did shake my confidence a little.

“Has he told you about Dr. Fisch?” Kate asks slyly, and she’s piqued my interest so I turn around to face her.

“No,” I say and her face lights up.

“Well, he’s a psychiatrist here in Cambridge. Granted he deals with everything from bipolar depression to psychopaths so it doesn’t give us much, but he is in therapy. From this schedule, I’m guessing it’s OCD.”

“A lot of people are in therapy, Kate, and I don’t think you should rule it out,” I say.

“Touchy,” She says. “I’m just trying to help.”

“And I appreciate it, but I don’t need you to help me by stalking our neighbors. Come on, let’s go get dinner, I’m starving..”

“Are you sure you don’t want to wait another 30 minutes so we don’t miss Christian?” She smiles slyly.

“No,” I say. “Besides, if your read the schedule you would know that he’s having dinner at Hungry Mother with his brother tonight.”

Kate laughs, rolls her eyes, and then gets out of bed to follow me as I lead the way from our dorm to Annenberg Dining Hall.

When we get back from dinner, Kate insists my make-over must start now. She deep conditioner my hair with some conditioner that comes out purple and smells like jasmine. After I’m shaved to perfection, she exfoliates the skin on my face, legs, and underarms, and begins work on a manicure and pedicure. I go to bed that night with some kind of cream on my face that smells like Peonies, which makes me dream of fields full of wildflowers.

The next morning, Kate and I eat an early breakfast and then lay in bed all morning watching Breakfast at Tiffany’s. The movie is just about over when someone knocks on our door. Kate jumps up and opens the door and squeals in delight as her dad wraps his arms around her.

“Hey, Sis!” He says, as he hugs her tightly. When her feet are back on the ground, he takes a step back as if to examine her.

“Hmmm…” He says thoughtfully. “Nope, you definitely don’t look any smarter. Harvard must not have worn off on you yet.”

“Dad!” Kate protests, and she playfully slaps him on the arm.

“I’m just kidding, honey. You look great.” He kisses her on the forehead and then looks past her to see me sitting with my legs crossed on her bed.

“Hi Ana, how are you sweetheart?” He asks, and he holds his arms open for me too. I spring off the bed and let him envelope me in a hug as I answer.

“I’m doing great! How are Mrs. Kavanagh and Ethan?” I ask.

“Great, they’re doing great. They’re just a little sad that they couldn’t make it this weekend.”

“Right Dad,” Kate says sarcastically. “I’m sure Ethan was so upset that he couldn’t fly home to see a football game. I do hear Italy is a terrible place to spend a semester.”

“You’re right, what am I doing here? I should have definitely gone to visit Ethan this weekend,” Mr. Kavanagh jokes as he turns around and pretends to walk back down the hall.

“Dad!” Kate says again, giggling as she grabs his arm to pull him back into the dorm. Mr. Kavanagh laughs as Kate drags him.

“Come on kids,” He says warmly. “I want to take you girls out to lunch before my alma mater shows Princeton how to play football.”

Kate and I grab our bags and rush out the door after him. The drive out of campus is a joy as Mr. Kavanagh has rented a convertible for the day and we drive through town enjoying the cool fall air. We eat lunch at a restaurant called Oleana and Mr. Kavanagh makes us both laugh when he enters the restaurant with an over the top flourish of importance and jokingly demands their best table.

Kate and I both order Quiche Lorraine and it is so delicious we are nearly finished before we are able to hold up a conversation with her dad.

“The food they serve you kids can’t be this terrible,” Mr. Kavanagh jokes. “What am I paying $40,000 dollars a semester for?”

“It’s not bad, Dad,” Kate says as she eats her last bite. “We just didn’t eat very much at breakfast.”

“I see,” He says and launches into a lecture about how breakfast is the most important meal of the day. When he’s finished and we’ve both promised not to skip a meal again, he happily moves on to other topics.

“So how are your classes going, Sis? Your mother told me you have a couple classes you’re not too pleased with.”

Kate tells him about how much she hates her Organizational Communication class while I scan the room to see what an upscale French restaurant looks like on a Saturday morning in Cambridge. I glance past dozens of faces of people I don’t recognize until my gaze falls upon a familiar pair of steel gray eyes. Christian is sitting a few tables away from us across from a young man with curly blonde hair. He seems to only look at his lunch companion when he has to participate in the conversation, otherwise he’s looking at me. Eventually, the person across from him turns around to see what he’s looking at and I see that blonde haired young man, who I assume must be his brother, is also very handsome, around 20 or 21 years old, and has bright, friendly, blue eyes. His brother turns around and points at me over his shoulder and Christian nods and gets up from his table.

“Kate!” I hiss, turning back around. “Christian is coming over here.”

“What? Chri—” She begins but stops as he comes up to the table and reaches his hand out for Kate’s dad.

“Alec Kavanagh,” He says, very formally. “My name is Christian Grey. I just have to say that I’ve followed your career extensively and have found Kavanagh Media’s expansion during the past seven years to be rather impressive.”

“Um… Thank you, young man.” Mr. Kavanagh says as he shakes Christian’s hand with confusion.

“Christian goes to school with us, Dad. He actually lives across the hall from Ana and I.”

“Oh,” Mr. Kavanagh says, more brightly this time. “Are you studying Mass Communication, Christian?”

“No, Sir. Economics. Though I am interested in development in Telecommunications.”

“Well then,” Mr. Kavanagh says as he reaches into his wallet and pulls out his business card. “Take my card and let me know if you have any questions. I’m always happy to help any friend of Katherine’s.” Christian smiles politely as he reaches out to take the card.

“Thank you, Sir. Katherine. Anastasia. I’ll see you this evening,” He says with a nod, and he leaves the table to return to his brother.

“Quite the formal young man.” Mr. Kavanagh says. “Is he a boyfriend of yours, Kate?”

“He’s actually into, Ana.” Kate replies with a satisfied smile.

“Handsome, well mannered, Harvard education,” Mr. Kavanagh says as if he’s running through a check list. “Better than anything this one has ever brought home. Good choice, Ana.”

Kate rolls her eyes as her dad signals for the check and I bite my lip as I turn to look back at Christian, who is staring at our table with an expression of satisfaction.

After lunch, Mr. Kavanagh takes us to a store in town that sells Harvard gear and he buys us each a sweatshirt to wear to the game. We drive over and after we spend a half an hour trying to find a parking place, we pick up our tickets and follow the crowd towards the stadium.

Harvard Stadium is packed and the atmosphere is electric as we take our seats. Jose finds us just before kick off and he seems to join in with the excitement in the atmosphere, but by the middle of the first quarter, it’s very clear that he’s bored as he begins playing a game on his cell phone. When the game is over Harvard beats Princeton 27-10 and the stadium erupts with cheers. Kate’s dad is high fiving everyone within arm’s reach and Kate is bouncing up and down, holding me by the upper arms.

We leave the stadium to a chorus of “Fight Fiercely, Harvard” which Kate and her dad sing happily at the top of their lungs. I have a feeling the party tonight is going to be crazy with this much excitement buzzing through the air.

Jose and I walk back to the dorms alone so that Kate can say goodbye to her dad in private.

“I’ll meet you at the house tonight,” Jose says as he hugs me good-bye once we’re standing outside Gray’s Hall. “Do you know where you’re going?”

“I think Kate does,” I say. “She knows a few people from the Journalism department that are going.”

“Cool. Bye, Ana,” Jose says, and he waves as he turns to leave.

“Bye, Jose!” I say waving back to him, and I turn and make my way up to my room.

I’m in the shower when Kate gets back and the moment I’m out, she pounces on me, makeup and hair tools in hand.

“Hold still, Ana!” Kate whines as I try to struggle out of her grip.

“That’s way too much, Kate.” I protest, trying to fight off her and the lip gloss wand in her hand.

“Trust me, you look hot,” She says once she’s able to get around my flailing arms and finish applying the candy flavored goo to my lips. She stands back and smiles, and when I look in the mirror, I have to give it to her.

My long brown hair, which normally hangs in loose waves, is now silky, straight, and shiny. My eyes are smoky and my skin looks bright and flawless. Surprisingly, the tight black jeans I managed to squeeze into bring out feminine curves I hadn’t anticipated and the taupe sequin tank top is flattering and… sexy. Besides the straps that go around my shoulders and one thin strap that connects each side of the top, my back is completely exposed. Kate pulls out a pair of killer red stilettos that have a platform under the toe and a heel that must be at least six inches, but I’m able to successfully talk her down to a more sensible nude pump.

Kate puts on her own sparkly gold jacket over the tight black dress she’s wearing and after she’s added a dab of perfume to each of our pulse points, we’re headed out the door.

The party is off campus but only by a couple of blocks. Still, by the time we reach the house and meet Jose, my feet are desperate for a break.

“Get Ana a beer, Jose.” Kate giggles. “It’ll dull the pain from her shoes.”

Joes smiles and leads me through a crowd of people dancing and grinding against each other to T-Pain’s Buy You a Drank.

After Jose artfully pours me and Kate a beer from a keg against the wall, we head back into the crowd to find Kate. She’s dancing with a guy with dark hair and broad shoulders, so I simply hand her the red solo cup, which she takes with a smile before turning her attention back to her dance partner. Jose grabs my hand and pulls me close to him to dance, what he wasn’t prepared for was how awful I am at dancing.

I take approximately two steps before I stumble and, as I try and prevent myself from falling, I pour most of my beer down Jose’s front.

“Ana!” He cries, jumping back to avoid the flow from my cup.

“Oh my god, Jose. I’m so sorry. Come on, let’s find something to clean you up.”

I grab him by the hand and lead him through the crowd of people towards the kitchen where we find some paper towels. I rip off a handful from the roll and begin dabbing them on his shirt, desperately apologizing over and over again as I do.

“It’s fine, Ana.” Jose says with an exasperated smile after my 10,000th “I’m sorry”. “Look, it’s practically dry. No harm done. Come one, let’s dance some more.”

“Are you sure?” I ask skeptically.

“Of course. Just… leave your beer here.” He laughs. I laugh too and set my now empty keg cup on the counter and follow Jose back out to the living room where everyone is dancing. We sway together, me trying to move as little as possible, and watch the people around us. There is a guy doing a keg stand in the corner to a chorus of cheers, a girl crying over her cell phone on the stairs while her friend tries to comfort her, and Kate, dancing with a different guy across the room from us.

The song changes to The Sweet Escape by Gwen Stefani and girls all around us start squealing and singing along with the song as they dance. I don’t see Christian anywhere and I’m starting to think he changed his mind and decided not to come. I stop dancing with the music and reach into my back pocket for my phone to check the time, but it’s not there. Crap, I think I left it on the desk.

“Do you have your phone?” I shout in Jose’s ear so that he can hear me over the music.

“Yeah, why?” He asks, but he pulls it out before I can answer.

“What time is it?”

He holds the phone up so I can see the time. It’s 10:45 which I’m sure means Christian isn’t coming. My heart sinks with disappointment as I realize how much I had been looking forward to seeing him tonight.

“Do you want to get a drink?” I ask Jose and he smiles and leads me through the living room back to the kitchen. Kate is sitting at the counter with a group of people and I once again find myself amazed at how easily she seems to make friends. It seems every person she meets immediately falls victim to the charm of Katherine Kavanagh.

“Ana!” She cries with delight. “We’re gonna do a shot, do you want one?”

“Sure,” I say, and the guy with the Grey Goose bottle in his hand hands me a shot glass filled to the brim. I take it hesitantly but when Kate hands me a wedge of lime, I find new conviction and slam it down with the group. It burns and tastes horrible but the lime helps, and when they pour a second round I take it without complaint.

“Let’s get a beer,” I say to Jose as Kate gets up to dance and mingle some more.

“Don’t you think you should slow down?” Jose asks, concerned.

“I’m fine,” I say, motioning for him to follow me to the keg. And I’m trying to crush the feelings of disappointment from Christian not showing up.

I try to pour myself a beer, but end up with 80% foam, so Jose is kind enough to pour another one for me. We stand together talking for a while, away from the speaker in the living room and about half way through my third or fourth beer, I feel the alcohol hit me. My body gets warm and I feel woozy.

“Do you want to dance some more?” Jose asks.

“Um… No. No, I think I need to sit down.” I say, and I feel a pair of strong hands on my upper arms, holding me steady. But, when I look up, I’m surprised to see they aren’t Jose’s.

“Come on, let’s get you outside for some fresh air,” Christian says, and I nod and follow gratefully after him.

“Hey! I’ve got it. We were in the middle-” Jose yells, but Christian ignores him and leads me through the living room and out the front door.

“Are you alright?” He asks as we sit on the step. I breathe in the crisp night air and nod.

“Yeah, thanks,” I say. “It was getting kind of stuffy in there.” I shiver slightly as the cool air brings Goosebumps up on my arms and Christian sighs as pulls his jacket off and drapes it over me.

“How much have you had to drink?” He says, with slight irritation.

“A couple shots and… four beers, I think.”

“And when did you last eat?” He asks.

“Umm… Lunch.”

“Do you know how dangerous it is for a person of your size to drink that much alcohol with no food in their stomach? There are people here trying to take advantage of drunk girls, Anastasia.” I stare down at my fingers while he lectures me and after a moment’s pause, he puts his arm around me rubbing my shoulders to cause friction.

“Are you still cold?” He asks.

“No, your jacket is just what I needed,” I say diplomatically, hoping we can move onto subjects that make me feel less like an errant child.

“When did you get here?” I ask.

“A while ago. I just came inside to find you, I had to take a phone call. Elliot is in there somewhere. I’ve tried calling you for the past hour. You told me the party was on Brewster St. This is Berkley St.”

“Oh,” I reply, my cheeks reddening. “I left my phone in my dorm.” I want to apologize but the sensation from the alcohol is getting stronger instead of fading and I’m now finding it difficult to sit up straight.

“Come on,” He says. “Let’s get you home.”

“But Kate…” I protest.

“I’m sure she’ll be fine. Mr. Rodriguez can help her home.”

I nod and take the hand he holds out for me. We take the quick walk through campus in silence, but I’m perfectly content as he holds me against him, supporting most of my weight and holding me up as we go. I can feel the hard muscles under his black and white checkered button up shirt but when I reach my hand out to touch his chest, he grabs me by the wrist to stop me.

“What are you doing?” He asks, looking down at me with something close to panic in his eyes.

“I-uh. I was just…”

“I don’t like to be touched,” He says flatly and he pulls away from me and reaches out to open the door to Gray’s Hall for me.

I walk through the door and I don’t know if it’s the walk through the cool night air or Christian’s rejection that has sobered me up some, but I’m feeling much more stable on my feet. There is an awkwardness between us now, but I feel it lessen a little as he takes my hand and leads me up the stairs. However, once we’ve walked down the hall to our rooms, I realize very quickly that I don’t need to worry about Kate making it home from the party okay. She’s already here, I can hear her through the door… loudly.

“Do you want to come in and… um… wait?” Christian asks once he’s unlocked his door. I nod my head and follow after him, for the first time, into his dorm.

The room is much more spacious than mine as there is only one bed and one desk occupying the space. Everything is immaculate: clean, neat, and orderly. I suppose I’ve got another personality trait to add to the list, Christian Grey is very organized.

“Make yourself comfortable,” He says as he pulls his jacket from my shoulders and hangs it on the hook by the door. I cross the room and sit on the bed, watching him take his blackberry, wallet and keys out of his pocket to set on the desk. The walls of the room are covered in an eclectic mix of decorations.

There is a bulletin board over the desk with pictures of Christian all over the world and several with the same group of people, who I assume must be his family. There are a couple pieces of framed sheet music across from the bed and in a frame on the nightstand, there is a cutout from a map of the state of Washington with a heart drawn over the Seattle area. In the corner is says, Forever your home sweet home, we miss you. Love Mia.

“You’re from Seattle?” I ask, turning to look at him astonished. I think my voice is a little too bright with exultation as I’ve finally uncovered the mystery of where he’s from.

“Yes,” He says, coming to sit next to me on the bed.

“I’m from Montesano,” I tell him, but he doesn’t seem to be surprised.

“I figured you must be from somewhere in Washington, having Katherine Kavanagh as your best friend. Her dad is a big name in the Seattle business world.”

“I know,” I say smartly, but the irritation I have with Mr-Know-It-All quickly fades as I lock eyes with him. There is something there, something behind the cold steel that makes my heart quicken.

“Your hair is different,” He says, capturing a lock of it between his fingers.

“Kate straightened it,” I answer.

“I think I like it better natural,” He says. He tucks the strand behind my ear and shiver runs through me as his fingers caress the skin down my neck. He’s staring into my eyes, and then suddenly, his lips are on mine. He kisses me with a kind of fierce hunger that I cannot explain but desire explodes within me at his fervor. I feel his tongue brush softly across my bottom lip and as I open my mouth to accept him, he pushes me slowly backwards onto the bed.

My heart is racing and I can feel my body flush with heat at his touch. This is it. After all these years, I’m about to lose my virginity to Christian Grey, and I’m astounded with how utterly pleased I am with the idea. I want this, I want this so badly. My hands reach up to his face to hold him in this kiss for as long as possible. While my fingers curl in his hair, his hand travels down, brushing the bare skin on my sides beneath my top, but just as he’s about to cup my breast, he stops. The kiss ends and he leaps off the bed, backing several paces away from me.

“I’m sorry, I can’t.” He says, clearly confused and frustrated. “I shouldn’t have, it was wrong… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Anastasia.”

“I’m fine, Christian. I wanted you to do that,” I say defensively but he looks away from me.

“I know you did and I… but I just… can’t.” He stutters, running his hands through his hair. It’s strange seeing him so addled, he normally seems so sure of himself.

I too have to look away as I feel the threat of tears begin to prick my eyes. There is a dry stinging sensation in my throat and I take a deep, purposeful breath to try and bury the feelings of hurt and rejection. He doesn’t want me. It was all in my head. He had his chance to have me, he knew I wanted him, but he didn’t want to take it.

“Look,” He says uncomfortably. “I’m going to… take a shower. If Kate isn’t, uh… finished soon, you can stay here tonight. Elliot has a hotel room and I can stay with him.”

“Okay,” I croak, unable to hide the now eminent tears.

He looks at me, his expression sad and almost confused, as if he’s battling with himself, but then he turns to the bathroom and closes the door behind him.

I lay back on the bed and listen to the sound of the running water from the shower, tears flowing silently down the sides of my face. After a minute or two, I hear Christian’s phone ring on the desk across the room and it gives me something to concentrate on besides the aching hurt inside of me. It rings for about thirty seconds and then goes to voicemail. When the sound stops I sit up, determined to stop feeling sorry for myself, and decide to look more closely at the pictures on his bulletin board, but before I’ve even gotten out of bed, his phone rings again.

The caller ID on the screen shows “Mrs. Lincoln” and I think back to that time I saw him texting this same number back in class. For a moment I’m wondering who would be calling him this late. It’s now past midnight after all, but then I remember that in Seattle it’s only 09:00 PM. The call goes to voicemail again and now the screen shows “2 Missed Calls: Mrs. Lincoln”. I turn my attention back to the bulletin board but as I do, the phone rings for a third time. It’s Mrs. Lincoln again and now I’m sure something must be wrong, so I decide to answer the phone, at least to tell the other person that Christian is in the shower.

“Hello, Christian Grey’s phone,” I answer hesitantly, but I hear nothing on the other end. “Hello?” I repeat.

“Who is this?” A woman’s cool, even voice responds.

“This is Anastasia Steele. I’m Christian’s um… neighbor.”

“And where is Christian?” She asks.

“He’s in the shower,” I tell her and once again I’m met with radio silence.

“Tell him to call me back, immediately,” She says after a few moments, and then I hear a click and the phone goes dead. I stare down at the phone with confusion. That was weird. I hope everything is okay. She did say call her back immediately. My thoughts are cut short when the door to the bathroom opens and Christian steps out of a cloud of steam, a towel wrapped firmly around his waist.

“What are you doing?” He ask when he sees me holding his phone.

“Um… You got a call. Several calls actually. Mrs. Lincoln wants you to call her back, immediately.” I recite nervously.

The color drains from Christian’s face. He looks horrified as he takes the blackberry from me and looks down at the missed call notification. I stare at him awkwardly for a moment and watch as his newly pale skin begins to redden. He looks up at me with a fiery rage in his eyes.

“You answered my phone? Why would you do that?” He demands.

“She kept calling, I was worried there was an emergency.”

“That is none of you concern, Anastasia.”

“I’m sorr-“

“Get out,” He says in a voice that is so quiet and controlled it’s almost scary.

“Christian?”

“Anastasia, get the fuck out!” He screams, and he charges over to the door and throws it open. I move as quickly as I can to get out the door, but before he is able to slam it shut behind me, my door opens to reveal Kate giving a guy I recognize as Christian’s brother, Elliot, a goodbye kiss.

“What’s going on out here?” Elliot says in a cheerful, satisfied voice that contrasts horribly with the hostile atmosphere behind me. Christian slams his door closed and I’m left standing in the hallway, confused and bereft. Elliot and Kate stare at me questioningly but before I can answer their inquisitive looks, I burst into tears.

Next Chapter

 

The next morning, I’m rudely awaken by the sound of the door slamming shut. Kate moves across our dorm like a tornado as she strips her clothes off and tosses them callously around the room. I bolt upright and blink while my eyes attempt to adjust to the sunlight in the room. I’m still slightly confused by my abrupt awakening.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” Kate snaps. “The next time you see your boyfriend across the hall, you tell him that there is a 30 minute limit on the treadmill for a reason. I’ve been down there waiting for him to finish for an hour and a half and now, I’m going to be late.” She slams the bathroom door closed and I look at my alarm. It’s 07:30 and my first class isn’t until 10:00 today.

I groan and plop down back into my pillows, trying desperately to find sleep again, but it doesn’t come. Resigned, I roll out of bed and decide to take what’s left of my reading assignments down to breakfast with me. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, Kate has earlier classes than I do, so I’m eating breakfast alone anyway.

08:00 AM doesn’t seem to be a popular time in the food hall as the normally packed dining room is only partially filled with bleary eyed students, some still in their pajamas. I take the bowl of oatmeal that I dished for myself and begin to stir in the brown sugar and dried cranberries I had sprinkled over the top of it. When I’m satisfied, I dunk my English Twinings Breakfast tea bag in my mug of hot water, swirl it around for a brief moment, and then scoop it out.

Voila, breakfast.

I pull out The Awakening and begin to read, but I’ve only made it two pages before I’m interrupted.

“The voice of the sea is seductive, never ceasing, whispering, clamoring, murmuring, inviting the soul to wander in abysses of solitude.” A now familiar voice says, and I look up to see a pair of bright gray eyes staring down at me. He smiles an enticing half smile down at me, clearly pleased with his ability to quote 19th Century American Classics.

“Kate Chopin is not British literature,” I say to him speculatively as he sits down next to me.

“Believe it or not, I actually had read a novel or two before signing up for that class, Anastasia,” he replies. He takes a drink of coffee, his eyes baring into me over the rim of his mug. There is an egg white and spinach omelet in front of him. This and an hour and a half on the treadmill, no wonder he looks so delicious.

“I just figured you signed up for that class because you preferred British literature,” I say, blushing under his gaze.

“Actually, I chose it because it’s not a genre I’m familiar with, barring a few key exceptions,” He says.

“Such as?”

“The over inundation of Shakespeare in high school English courses, obviously. Also, Oscar Wilde, George Orwell, Joseph Conrad, and of course Harry Potter.”

“I wouldn’t picture you as a fan of The Boy who Lived.”

“My sister was really into it. I read it with her so she would have someone to talk about it with.”

“You have a sister?”

“Yes, Mia,” He says, and a small smile creeps across his lips as he says her name. It’s endearing.

Hm, another personality trait, Christian Grey is sentimental.

“And you have a brother…” I press him. The smile he has for Mia falters slightly as he continues, but there is still warmth in his normally cold grey eyes.

“And two parents if you’d believe it,” He says wryly, and I laugh to fill the brief moment of silence that exists before I continue my barrage of questions.

“And what do they do?” I ask.

“My mother is a pediatric surgeon and my father is a criminal defense attorney.”

So he comes from money. Although, I don’t know how I didn’t assume that from the Ralph Lauren pajama bottoms and the J Crew logo on his messenger bag. I think I remember from the phone conversation I overheard that his brother goes to Stanford. Two children in top tier schools, one being the crowning jewel of the Ivys. I imagine he comes from New York City and his mother is the top pediatric surgeon on the East Coast and his father represents all the big Wall Street names or Rupert Murdoch or something.

“What about you?” He asks, cutting into my fantasies. “Do you have any brother or sisters?”

“No, just me. Although, I always wanted siblings.”

“And what do your parents do?”

“Well, my father died when I was a baby. I have a step-dad, Ray, who practically raised me. He’s in the military. He’s being deployed again next week.” My voice chokes off a little as I think of the sacrifice my father is making for me. I swallow hard, trying to rid myself of the lump in my throat.

“And your mother?”

“Mom does all kinds of things.” I sigh. “Really she’s just a bored housewife who jumps from one enterprise to the next. Candle-making, party hosting, home staging… it changes so often I’m not sure what she’s into anymore.”

“Yes, I know the trouble caused by bored housewives,” He says dryly, but as he does, his face hardens and he sits up straighter, like he thinks he’s said something he shouldn’t. I hope he doesn’t think he’s offended me.

“I’m glad she’s finally married to someone who can keep her under control and make sure the bills get paid,” I say reassuringly.

“And when your step father is gone?” He asks. “What will she do then?”

“Oh, my mom and Ray have been divorced for years now,” I say. “Ray was husband number two and Mom is on husband number four, Bob.”

“And husband number three?”

“Is the reason why I was raised by Ray,” I say flatly, unwilling to go into the dark days of husband number three. “I’m glad, though. I was devastated when Ray and my mom got divorced. I need him in my life, you know? And he needs me. He’s my dad, and he always will be, no matter who my mom is married to.”

“I see,” He says. “And what about Bob?”

“Ana!” I hear a voice call behind me and I turn to see Jose coming towards me. He pulls up the chair next to me, scooting it rather close to my side, and he pulls me into a one armed hug.

“Hi, Jose,” I say, shifting uncomfortably, but he doesn’t let me go as he turns his focus to Christian.

“Jose Rodriguez,” He says. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

“Christian Grey,” He responds coolly, a little too coolly. I turn to look at him and the warmth in his eyes that has been present since we talked about his sister is gone. They’re back to the cold, hard steel gray and his mouth is set in a tight, thin line. I can feel Jose withdrawal from Christian’s glare, but he recovers and turns to look at me.

“Are you all set for the party on Saturday?” He asks.

“Yes. Kate has bought a new outfit. She’ll be on the prowl.”

Jose laughs and digs through his bag for a sharpie which he pulls out and removes the cap with his teeth. Once again, he takes my arm but instead of a phone number he scribbles an address on my palm.

“This is where you’ll want to go. We can meet up beforehand and go to dinner if you’d like.” He suggests.

“Aren’t you going to the game?”

“What game?” He asks.

“Harvard vs Princeton!” I say with false exasperation. “First football game of the season? Harvard! Harvard! Rah! Rah! Rah!”

“No,” Jose says. “I hadn’t planned on going to the game.”

“Elliot and I are going,” Christian interjects. “Perhaps you and Katherine would like to go with us? Then we can all go to the party together since Mr. Rodriguez was kind enough to provide you with the address.”

“Sorry, dude. The party is invitation only,” Jose says, the regret in his voice blatantly insincere.

“And Katherine and Anastasia were kind enough to extend an invitation last night,” Christian says coldly.

“Actually, I think Kate’s dad is flying in for the game,” I say quickly. “She’ll want to go with him, but we can all meet up afterwards and go together.” I hope the suggestion comes off as a neutral compromise, there is a tension building between Jose and Christian that is reaching alarming levels, though I don’t understand where it’s coming from.

“And miss the chance to meet Kate’s dad?” Jose says. “Tell you what, I’ll go to the game, for you, Ana.” He turns to look at Christian. “I’ll email you the address and maybe we’ll see you there.”

Christian scowls, but his answer is interrupted by his cell phone ringing. He looks down at the number, and his expression changes to something just off of frustration or agitation and he begins picking up his things.

“I’ll see you later tonight, Anastasia,” He says, and he answers the phone as he rushes away from the table.

“You have plans to meet him later?” Jose asks.

“Not exactly,” I admit. “We have a class together this afternoon and he lives across the hall from me.”

“I see,” He says. I look down at my watch and thankfully, it’s time for me to leave for class. I reach down for my bag and stuff my book back inside of it. Jose stands and I’m going to wave goodbye to him but he pulls me into a hug. Oh no…

“Have a good day, Ana,” He says.

“You too, Jose,” I say awkwardly, and I leave.

The day passes by so slowly I’m sure I’ve entered some kind of Star Trek like dimension where time has actually stopped. Truthfully, I just can’t stop counting down the hours until two o’clock when my Survey of British Literature class starts. I’m tapping the pads of my fingers on my desk, staring at the clock rather than my copy of “The Awakening” while Dr. Ladino talks about Chopin’s use of birds to symbolize the entrapment of Victorian women.

“Perhaps Miss Steele could give us an example of this?” The Professor asks, and I’m pulled roughly from my thoughts and immediately feel myself start to redden. Crap, are we still on the birds?

“Um… Professor?” I ask. Her eyes narrow and her lips form a tight frown.

“We were speaking, Miss Steele, of the importance of the sea and how Chopin uses it to symbolize freedom and escape. I was wondering if you’d share with the class what you thought about the first time Edna is able to successfully swim in the sea?”

“Oh, I uh…” I have to shake my head slightly to center myself. You can do this Steele. “In those terms, I suppose her finally being able to swim in the sea is her breaking free from the bonds the life of a Victorian woman gives her. She doesn’t enjoy being a mother, she doesn’t enjoy being married to her husband, she wants out. She feared the sea because, although she desired freedom, she feared what that freedom would mean. Personally, I think the sea represents emptiness, or solitude that comes from independence and her ability to put aside her fear and swim in the sea is representative of her overcoming the fear of being alone or having no one support her.”

“So you view this act as a sign of rebellion rather than liberation.”

“Yes. She says she wants to swim “where no woman has swum before”. It’s a rather rebellious mindset, don’t you think?”

Her eyes narrow again, but not in disdain. It’s as if she’s analyzing me, sizing me up. Her eyes glance up to the clock and she places her book on her desk.

“Well, it looks as if that’s all the time we have for today. Please read through the end of the novel by Tuesday and have your first drafts for theme analysis ready for review.”

I hastily throw my books into my bag and bolt for the door. I’m not sure why I’m in such a rush as I still have an hour before my class with Christian but being on the move seems to help with the anxiety.

I eat my lunch so fast that I don’t even really taste it. Kate looks at me, her fork held motionless in the air, as if I’ve grown two heads.

“Hungry?” She asks, a slight chuckle in her tone.

“I just really want to get to my next class,” I say through a mouthful of food. I reach out to take a drink of ice water as Kate smiles at me knowingly.

“Your next class or Christian?” She asks. “Perhaps you should stop by the health clinic on the way to class, Ana. You can’t always expect the guy to bring condoms now-a-days.”

I choke on the water at her words and spend the next few seconds coughing dramatically.

“Jeez, Ana.” Kate says, reaching over to pat me on the back. “It was a joke.”

“It’s not like that,” I say defensively, glaring at her.

“I know,” She replies. “You’ve made it this far without sex, I can’t imagine you’re just going to give it up to a guy you barely know your first week into college.”

I sigh and take another drink of water, more carefully this time.

“You should though,” Kate continues, as I set down the glass. “I mean, he’s like ridiculously hot, Ana. It doesn’t get much better than that.”

“I don’t just want…” I say, and pause as I realize I don’t know how to say what I feel. Kate furrows her brow at me in confusion and then her face lights up as realization dawns on her.

“What a minute…” She begins. “Are you telling me that Anastasia Steele, the girl who turned down at least eight different dates in high school, skipped her senior prom, and somehow managed to be the only girl in her senior class not to make it to the backseat of Corey Landry’s Camaro, suddenly wants a boyfriend?”

“Kate…” I start dismissively, but as she raises her eyebrows, the deep red blush in my cheeks gives me away.

“Oh my god, I never thought I’d see the day,” She says with overt satisfaction and she reaches down into her purse and pulls out a tube of mascara and lip gloss.

“Use these,” She says. “And just remember, don’t give anything away. If you want a serious relationship you have to show him that is what want, not just sex. Make him sweat a little.”

I give Kate a quick hug and then rush away towards the girl’s restroom. As I stare at my reflection in the mirror over the sinks, I wonder if I should have asked Kate to help me. I’ve never been any good with makeup so I suppose it’s good that she only sent me with away with the basics. I take a calming breath and pick up the mascara. When I’m finished, my lashes are full and dark and my lips are slick and taste like cotton candy. I tuck the tubes into my bag and dart out the door for Survey of British Literature.

Unlike Monday, I am the first person to arrive in class and I’m now presented with a conundrum I hadn’t considered before, will Christian sit by me? I remember he sat towards the back last time and so if I sit up front again, he might not, but if I sit close to where he sat in the last class, he might think I’m expecting something. I shake my head with dread, knowing I’m only having these concerns because of what Kate said. I ultimately decide to sit on the opposite side of the room, towards the back. As I take my seat, I bury my head in my arms, feeling like a coward because ultimately I know the reason I’m so concerned is because I know a guy like him couldn’t possibly feel about plain, book-worm me like I feel about him.

As I sit there growing steadily more and more insecure, I hear other students begin to enter the room. I ignore them mostly, satisfied that no one can see my face, but it’s only a few minutes before I hear a bag drop on the floor and Christian’s voice as he takes the seat next to me.

“Bad day?” He asks, and I’m relieved he has joined me and pleased that there seems to be actual concern in his voice. I sit upright, hoping the blush has faded from my cheeks.

“Not really,” I reply. “Just a long one. My morning was started rather early when Kate came barging into our room furious about someone very rudely going over the allowed time on the treadmill in the gym.”

“How very inconsiderate of them,” Christian says with wry amusement.

As the rest of the class files in we discuss the reading assignment until Dr. Collins enters and begins class. Half-way through the lecture, Christian and I have a full page of notes each. Just as Dr. Collins begins a discussion on social class, Christian reaches into his pocket and pulls out his cell phone. Out of the corner of my eye, I look over and see he’s texting. The name of the recipient at the top of the message is “Mrs. Lincoln” but I’m unable to see any of the actual message before he hits send.

Jeez Ana, stop trying to read his text messages, you stalker. I scold myself.

Dr. Collins must have noticed Christian’s phone too, as the second he slips his phone into his pocket, Dr. Collins asks for Christian’s input on the discussion.

“Dickens’ vision of social class is not rigid,” Christian says, in response to Dr. Collin’s question. “As many of his characters are regularly earning and losing fortunes, he dissects social class from wealth altogether and builds the idea as more of an achievable construct rather than a birthright. A character’s social standing may be either created or destroyed.”

“Interesting interpretation. Do you agree with Mr. Grey’s sentiments, Miss Steele?” Dr. Collins asks, his attention turning to me. My eyes shoot to Christian as I feel myself begin to blush and then back to the professor.

“Not exactly,” I say. I can feel Christian’s steely gaze on me but I refuse to back down, he may be some kind of up and coming business savant or something, but books are my thing.

“Do go on, Miss Steele,” Dr. Collins says.

“I believe that one of the basic questions Dickens explores with this text is ‘How does one judge the value of other human beings?’. Social class is an arbitrary standard, externally constructed but universally accepted. Unlike, Mr. Grey, I find Dickens does depict social standing as a rigid concept associated with education, which for 19th century England was directly tied to wealth. Dickens criticizes Social Class as a criteria by which we evaluate human value by creating characters in both low and high born classes with good and wicked intentions.”

“I see,” Dr. Collins says. “So if not social class, what criteria would one use to judge the worth of another?”

“I believe that Dickens ultimate point is that there is no external criteria or standard. Judgment of worth is made in your own conscious.”

Dr. Collins nods with a smile and then looks at the clock. “I’d like you all to consider how social construct plays a role in determining the value of the characters in Great Expectations and what part it plays in our own judgments. Explain your conclusions, reactions, thoughts in no less than six pages to turn in on Tuesday. Enjoy your weekend.”

There is a flurry of commotion as once again people swarm for the door. Christian follows closely behind me.

“I’m impressed,” He says as we leave the English Building and step into the bright sunlight in the courtyard. “It’s not often someone is able to prove me wrong.”

“I’ve read the book before,” I say, blushing. “Knowing how it ends and what happens to all the characters might give me a little more perspective…”

“Don’t make excuses, Anastasia,” He scolds me. “You’re smart and shrewd. Be proud of that, it’s what will set you apart from the others.”

I bite my lip to try and cover the satisfied smile that creeps across my face and as I do, Christian surprises me by reaching over and grasping my chin, freeing my lip from my teeth.

“I’d like more of your insights, Anastasia. Perhaps we could study together one night a week and you can show me whatever else I’m missing.”

I stare at him blankly for a moment before my elated smile returns. “Uh sure, when?” I ask, excitement apparent in my tone.

“Christian!” A female voice behind us says, and I whirl around to see a pretty, tall, red headed girl walking towards us, waving her arm. She’s looks very well put together, her jeans look like they might have a designer label stitched on the inside. She takes a long drag from a cigarette and exhales the smoke just far enough away that we don’t breathe it in as she approaches.

“Put that out,” Christian says disgustedly, and the girl rolls her eyes and flicks the cigarette to the sidewalk, which she grounds out with her brown leather boots.

“You’re so touchy, Christian,” She says, and she looks down at me, “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“Anastasia, this is Rosaline Bailey. Ros, this is Anastasia Steele.”

“Pleasure,” She says, shaking my head with a wide smile. “She’s cute, Christian.”

I divert my eyes immediately as I feel myself blush and Christian shuffles uncomfortably.

“Yes, well, come Ros, we’ve got work to do,” He says and then turns back to me. “I’ll email you later, we can set up a time.”

I nod my head and Ros looks between the two of us and smiles again.

“It was nice to meet you, Anastasia,” She says, “I hope to see more of you.”

“It was nice to meet you, too,” I say still blushing from her earlier comment. Christian pushes her elbow to get her to move and I watch them walk away. As I walk back toward Grays, I feel like my stomach is doing backflips. He wants to see me, hang out with me, outside of class. Sure, it might only be for studying, but romance has to start somewhere… right?

When I get back to my dorm that afternoon, it’s empty. For the first time since Kate has arrived, I have the place to myself. I flop down on my bed and close my eyes. Really, I should be reading. My mountain of homework is still looming over me, but it’s nice to relax. With classes, homework, my work study, my concern for Ray, and the longing I feel for Mr. Mercurial across the hall, I feel like I’ve lived through the longest week of my life, and it’s only Thursday.

Just as I’m starting to drift off into a mindless sleep, my phone rings. I roll over and pull my cell phone out of my back pocket to ignore the call in favor of a nap, but it’s Ray .

“Dad!” I gasp as I answer the phone.

“Ana!” He gasps back, mocking my surprise.

“How was your drive home?” I ask.

“Lonely without you, kid,” He says. “How are your classes? Your first week at Harvard, I can’t hardly believe it.”

“It’s been good, I guess,” I laugh. “I have a lot of homework but I like my professors and I think my work study is going to be very useful.”

“Have you made any friends?”

“Well there is this new guy I met…” I hesitate. No, now is not the time for that. Luckily, I have a back up. “He was the first person I met actually. His name is Jose Rodriguez and I think we’re going to be really good friends really quickly.”

“Just friends?” He asks suggestively.

“Just friends, Dad.” I assure him. “Kate says I’m missing the “need a boyfriend” gene.”

“Well, I can’t say that I’m disappointed by that. You’ve got the right idea, Annie. Just focus on your studies, get good grades, and there will be no limit to what you will accomplish. All of the relationship stuff will happen when it happens. You can’t change fate’s plan.”

“I’ll remember that, Dad.” I say. We talk briefly about the physical he had that day and I tell him about the party I was invited to this weekend before he has to get off the phone for a very important Sounders game. I hang up the phone, set it on the dresser and head to my desk to start my homework. I open my computer to play some background music while I take notes on Great Expectations for my essay. An hour later, Kate walks in, weighed down with shopping bags and smiles at me.

“How was your day?” She asks.

“Productive. I think I’m actually going to finish my homework,” I say.

“Oh, good!” She beams. “So nothing to keep you busy this weekend!”

“Well it was due tomorrow so I wasn’t really concerned about that.”

“Speaking of this weekend,” She says conspiratorially, “When I was out shopping, I may have found the perfect outfit for you to wear to the party.”

“Kate…” I hesitate. “You know I can’t afford to buy clothes. Just the books for my classes nearly cleaned me out.”

“I know. That’s why I… bought the outfit for you.” She smiles and she grips tightly to a plastic, fuchsia bag.

“Kate, you really shouldn’t have,” I start but she silences me with a wave.

“Oh please, Ana, it’s really not a big deal. I just really couldn’t pass it up and if you wear this and let me make you up a little, you’ll pay me back in happiness.”

“Thank you, Kate,” I mutter, still unsure how okay I am with her buying me clothes. After I model the outfit, and Kate tells me exactly how she plans on doing my hair, I settle down to get a start on the homework I was assigned for next week, and while I read through the final chapters of The Awakening, I find myself refreshing my email every few minutes, desperate to hear from Christian Grey.

Next Chapter

 

I let out an accomplished sigh of relief as I make the very last edit on my Eighteenth Century Literature final. I’ve done it. I’ve completed my first year at Harvard University. A broad smile crosses my face as I stand from my seat and hand my blue book to the professor at the front of the class. He wishes me a good summer, a gesture I return, and then… I’m free.

The warm late May air feels extremely comforting on my face as I walk back to Grays Hall. Birds are chirping, flowers are blooming, and everything is right with the world. That is until I see Christian moving up the walkway across the yard from me carrying a heavy looking box.

While I was taking my final exam, he and Elliot have been helping the movers load the moving truck that will take all of the things from our dorms to the new house. Unfortunately, these past couple weeks haven’t exactly been the easiest between Christian and I. I’m not over what happened in the trial and even though we’ve tried to sit down to talk it through, multiple times, nothing he says or does makes it okay for me and I can’t bring myself to say the things I need to. It hurts too much, especially when I think about what this has done to his family. It always ends the same way. He gives me the excuse that he did what he truly felt was the right thing and I get too frustrated arguing with him about Stockholm Syndrome that I have to end the discussion before I can even tell him how much this has hurt everyone he loves, including me.

Carrick still isn’t talking to him, and I don’t see that changing anytime soon, Grace has had to take a sabbatical from work she’s been so upset over it all, and poor Mia has just been confused and anxious since she has no idea what’s going on. She’d called Christian in tears when she found out he wasn’t coming home for the summer, but he couldn’t change that now even if he wanted to. Carrick doesn’t want him home for the summer.

As for us, I really don’t know how we move on from here…

I turn to walk through the front doors of Grays Hall and am almost knocked over by Elliot carrying a throw rug over his shoulder and a box under his arm.

“Oh! Sorry, Ana,” He says.

“That’s okay, do you need any help?” I ask.

“It’s just a few more small things.” He says. “I think we’ve got it.”

“Okay,” I tell him, maneuvering out of the way so that he doesn’t smack me with the other side of the rug. School ended for Elliot a week ago and he flew in to help us move our things to the new house and then accompany Kate on the drive back to Washington. To my surprise, or maybe not at all, Elliot doesn’t seem fazed by what happened with the trial. He and Christian sat down earlier this week and Christian told him all the things he said to me, and Elliot seemed to accept it. I wonder though, if that’s just because Elliot feels that someone has to be on Christian’s side. He’s always held a kind of caretaker position for his little brother. I know how deep his love for Christian is, and it’s possible, maybe even probable, that Elliot is just unselfish enough to put his own feelings aside and support his brother.

Can I be that selfless too?

That’s the crux of the issue and the only question that is standing in the way of us moving on. If Christian and I are to have any kind of future, I have to be able to accept what has happened, take his word that it really is all over, and move on. The alternative is for me to break it off with him, and since that notion is too painful to even fathom, I need to learn to accept what is and move past this with him. Hopefully, that’s what this summer will be about. In a few hours, we’ll be alone in our new house and it will remain that way for the next two and a half months. Surely, in all that time, I can find some kind of closure for this.

I ponder the thought as I make my way up the stairs. Once I get to the third floor landing, I notice both mine and Christian’s doors are open and when I turn to walk into my dorm, I see Kate packing the last of her things into a suitcase.

The room is completely bare, no curtains, no pictures on the walls. Even the bedding has been stripped away. The only thing left of me in this room is the small purple carry-on suitcase that rests on my bare mattress.

I look forlornly around the room. It feels bittersweet to be leaving. This was the first place where I truly lived on my own, the place where I got to begin my journey in college, the place where I first fell in love. I think back to my very first day at Harvard, how I had paused outside of the door to really absorb this new step in my life, and I feel grateful as I truly believe I have lived this year to the fullest. Now it’s over, and I’m determined to leave the bad memories behind, and pack with me only the good.

“It looks kind of sad, doesn’t it?” Kate asks, when she turns around and sees me lingering in the doorway. “You know, all the bad memories with that whole stalker thing aside, we’ve had some really good times in here.”

“Yeah, we did,” I tell her. She zips her suitcase closed and then walks over to me and wraps me into a tight hug.

“I’m so happy I get to share all of this with you, Ana,” She tells me. “Really, I wouldn’t want anyone else.”

“Me too, Kate.”

“I’m going to miss you all summer. What am I going to do without you for two months?” She asks.

“Probably send me bossy texts about buying furniture,” I laugh, and she laughs too. We hug again just as Elliot and Christian come up behind us and knock on the door frame.

“Ready?” Elliot asks Kate, and she nods as she pulls away from me, wiping a tear from her cheek.

“Yeah,” She says, and then turns back to me. “I love you. Call me every day, and text me all the time, and get Skype on your computer so we can watch movies together on Sundays.”

“I will,” I promise. “I love you too. Drive safe!”

“Alright, alright!” Elliot says, pulling us apart as Kate hugs me yet again. “We’ve got to get going if we’re going to make it to Cleveland tonight.”

“Okay,” Kate says, frowning. “Bye, Annie.”

“Bye, Katie,” I tell her. She smiles at me as she turns to leave the room. I hug Elliot goodbye and then wave as they disappear into the hall, leaving Christian and I alone.

“Are you ready?” Christian asks.

“Yeah,” I say as I take one last look around the room.

“Good, because I have a surprise for you,” He says, and I raise an eyebrow at him.

“A surprise? I think I’ve had enough surprises from you to last me a while,” I tell him bitterly.

“It’s a good surprise,” He promises, and he reaches out for my hand before he leads me out of the room for the last time.

I turn in my room keys downstairs and follow him out around the Old Yard to the street that runs behind Grays. Parked on the side of the curb waiting for us is a long black limousine.

“You got a limo to take us a mile and half home?” I ask, but he shakes his head.

“Not exactly.”

A driver gets out of the car and opens the door for us, and once we’re settled in, the limo pulls away from the curb and begins driving, not towards the house, but towards the freeway.

“Where are we going?” I ask, but Christian simply offers me a tight lipped smile.

“You’ll see,” He says.

A little over three and a half hours later, I stare out the window, mouth agape with shock, as the New York skyline comes into view. My cheeks hurt from smiling so broadly as the car makes its way past landmark after landmark until we finally pull up in front of the Plaza Hotel. The driver gets out of the car and opens the door for Christian and I to get out. Once he pulls our luggage from the trunk, Christian slides a tip into the driver’s hand and then gestures me forward.

Two men in uniform open the door for us to pass through into the lobby and the moment my feet touch the cool marble floor, I’m overwhelmed by everything around me. We check in and are led up to our room by a hotel employee, who loads our luggage onto a cart before walking us to the elevators. Once the bellhop opens the door to our room and I step inside, my hands fly up to my lips as I try to cover my outrageous smile. The room is unbelievably elegant with a huge king sized bed taking up the majority of the space and modern furniture and finishes surrounding it. While Christian thanks the bell hop and closes the door behind him, I hurry over to the window and take in the fantastic view of New York.

“Is it everything you hoped it would be?” He whispers in my ear. I smile as I force myself to look away from the view and turn to face him.

“I can’t believe you did this,” I tell him. “I mean, New York! I’m in the Plaza Hotel!”

“That you are,” He says, looking pleased as I continue to grin up at him with giddy excitement. Leaning up on my toes, I press my lips to his and he moans softly and moves my lips apart with his tongue. Since the trial, he’s treated every kiss we’ve shared as a precious fleeting gift and I wonder if it’s because he’s constantly worried it will be our last.

“I’m sorry,” He says when at last he releases me. “I didn’t handle the trial the right way. I should have just called the whole thing off. Refused to testify.”

“Yeah, well…” I reply awkwardly. I don’t want to tell him it’s okay, because it’s not, but I guess, if I’m really going to try and move on with him, I have to let him off the hook at some point, no matter how much it kills me inside to do so. Maybe, this is more of a forget situation than a forgive. That doesn’t seem to be how he feels though because he presses on, determined to talk this through until I forgive him.

“You haven’t talked to me much about how you’re feeling over the last couple weeks,” He says. “I know it was hard for you, but I need to know that you’re okay. We won’t get through this if you’re not honest with me.”

Honest? I want to laugh. Like he has any business lecturing me about being honest… but he’s right. We need to talk if we’re going to move on. Well, brace yourself Steele, this is going to hurt like a bitch.

“It hurt,” I tell him. “Not only because you hid how you were feeling from me but also because you protected her. When you told your parents about the two of you, I thought it was because you’d finally realized how wrong what she did to you was. But now, I don’t think that’s the case. I think you did it because I wanted you to do it and now you regret it, and you lied to protect her because some part of you still cares about her.”

“Anastasia…” He hesitates. “You have to understand that for a very long time, she was everything to me. Not in the way you are, not even an iota of the way you are, but for four years, my day, every day, began and ended with her. I know you only see her age and her threats and the punishments, but it wasn’t always like that. When I didn’t want to go to school, she was the only person who was understanding about it. I could talk to her about anything and she didn’t try to analyze everything I said as some cry for help for my shitty childhood. After everything she’s done to us, to you, I never want to see or speak to her again, but for everything she’s ever done for me… I couldn’t go through with it. She saved me from becoming a monster, and now I’ve saved her. I’m not indebted to her anymore. I can let it go.”

I cringe, feeling as though someone is literally gripping onto my heart and twisting it when he talks about her. I don’t understand how he doesn’t hate her…

“I’m really sorry that you see it that way,” I tell him. “You’re a good person. You’re generous, considerate, and caring. That’s who you are, not who she made you. That’s who you are in spite of what she did to you. She didn’t save you, she didn’t help you. She sexually abused you when you were a child and instead of paying for it in prison, she’s sitting at home sacrificing babies, or eating the hearts of virgins, or whatever evil things she does in her free time.”

He chuckles slightly but then looks seriously at me once more. “You might be right, you might be wrong, but the uncertainty I feel in that statement would have plagued me for the rest of my life.”

“So, why did you deny everything?” I ask. “She wouldn’t have gone to jail for having sex with you if you were over the age of consent. You didn’t have to lie about all of it. You made your whole family look like liars and now Mr. Lincoln is going to lose at least half of everything he has, and he shouldn’t. She’s going to make out a king after her divorce, she deserved to at least lose that.”

“I didn’t know what to do,” He says. “They didn’t let me see the other witnesses testimony so I didn’t know what to say and what not to say…”

“So it wasn’t about taking care of her then? About making sure she’d be okay once you cut off contact with her?”

“No,” He says. “I don’t care about that. Like I said, I’m not indebted to her anymore.”

“Okay,” I finally acquiesce. “Look, I’m never going to agree with your decision, and I’m never going to like it, but I can’t change it. You did what you thought you had to do, and as much as it kills me to see you still so blinded by what she’s done, I don’t have a choice but to accept it to move on. I still think you need to find a way to make this okay with your parents, but… okay. We’ll be okay. It’s done with, it’s over. Let’s just not talk about her anymore.”

“I love you,” He tells me. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I never want to do that.”

“I love you too,” I reply. “Not even this could ever change that.”

He kisses me again and as his arms wrap around me, pulling me close to him, I feel like a weight has been lifted off of me. Nothing has changed really, but I said what I needed to say, told him he hurt me and how it’s still affecting me, and got some answers I needed. And just this one step is like moving a mile in the right direction. As I kiss him again and feel the love emanating from him, I know we’ll be okay… Eventually.

“Let’s go see New York,” He says, and it’s the perfect thing to lighten the mood between us. I smile up at him, my excitement rising out of control again as he grips my hand and leads me out of the room.

The next few days are some of the very best of my life as I explore the city I’ve been enamored with my entire life and feel as though I’m falling in love with Christian all over again. We take walks through Central Park, stroll through Times Square with the lights shining all around us, tour Carnegie Hall and the New York Public Library and endless museums. He takes me to shows on Broadway and to dinner in famous restaurants. We visit Rockefeller Center, Radio City Music Hall, and Madison Square Garden. The city provides an endless list of things to see and Christian ensures everything we do is absolutely top of the line. We have the best tables, the best tickets, and he takes me shopping in the best stores that line Fifth Avenue. When Kate calls me to tell me she and Elliot have arrived back in Seattle a few days later, she’s positively fuming with envy.

“I can’t believe he didn’t say anything!” Kate says. “I would have loved to go to New York to kick off the summer.”

“I think he wanted it to be just the two of us,” I tell her. “It’s been incredible, Kate. It’s exactly what we needed after the whole trial ordeal.”

“I wonder if…” She begins but her voice cuts off.

“What?”

“Well, I mean… it all sounds very romantic. A room at The Plaza, tickets on Broadway, dinners in fancy restaurants. You don’t think he’s planning on asking you a very important question, do you?”

“No, Kate,” I say, rolling my eyes even though I know she can’t see me, but then, as I really think about the time we’ve spent here and how hard he’s worked to ensure everything was absolutely perfect, doubt begins to creep into my mind. “Why?” I ask her. “Did he say something to you?”

“No. But he took you to your favorite place in the world, you’re spending the summer alone together. It seems pretty perfect to me… also, Elliot will owe me $20, and we both how much I love to win a bet.”

I laugh. “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you,” I tell her. “But I think this is more of an I’m sorry, please don’t hate me trip than anything.”

“Well, if he does propose, I expect you to call me immediately, before anyone else, which I know is entirely unreasonable of me to ask, but also fairly expected, don’t you think?”

“Sure, Kate,” I laugh, and then look up as Christian comes out of the bathroom, freshly showered and wearing a suit. “Hey, I’ve got to let you go. I’ll call you when we get back to Cambridge?”

“Sure. Love you, Ana.”

“You too, Give my love to Grace, Mia, and Carrick. Bye,” I say, and hang up. I look at Christian with a raised eyebrow. “You look fancy.”

“I’ve got another surprise for you,” He says. “Get dressed.”

“In what? If we’re going somewhere nice, I don’t really have anything to wear. I already wore that nice dress you bought when we went to see In the Heights.”

“Go look in the closet,” He says, as he slips cuff links through the slits in his sleeve. I get off the bed, staring wearily at him through narrowed eyes, and make my way over to the closet. There is a dress hanging inside that shimmers once the light hits it. I pull out the elegantly embroidered material with metallic gray, gold, and black. It’s fairly short, but the long sleeves and modest neckline make it suitable for day wear. There is a pair pumps sitting on the floor of the closet made of mesh and tiny crystals with the word Louboutin scrawled across the sole.

“What are we doing?” I ask, but his only response is a sly smile.

“Get dressed,” He tells me.

Forty five minutes later, I’m standing at 350 5th Avenue staring up at the iconic building that reaches so high into the air, I feel the familiar sense of dread triggered by my fear of heights just looking at it.

“The Empire State Building?” I ask, and Christian gives me a mysterious, half kind of smile as he reaches for my hand and leads me forward. He pays the man standing behind the main desk for us to ride up to the observation deck and once the elevator begins to rise into the air, I start to second guess my decision to come up here.

“Are you sure about this?” I ask nervously as I watch the floor number over the elevator creep past 80. Christian looks down and smiles, squeezing my hand reassuringly.

“Don’t worry, we’ll stay far away from the railing so you can’t look down, you can’t miss this view,” He says, but as he turns to look at the floor number, which has just hit 90, I notice the tension in his jaw line. He swallows hard as we continue to rise into the air and I realize… he looks nervous.

The elevator begins to slow as the floor number rolls over to 86. There is a pinging sound and the doors slide open, releasing us into a small, square, glass room. Christian leads me through the double doors, and we step out onto the observation deck.

A gentle breeze, cooler up here than down on the ground, blows against my face as I stare out at the city below, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. The view literally takes my breath away. There is no noise from the street below, only the whipping sound of the wind. We make the full circle around the deck, taking in the view of the park and of the buildings that surround us and yet are still far below. In the distance, I can make out the tiny form of the Statue of Liberty standing proudly in her harbor.

“Christian, it’s beautiful,” I tell him, awed. He steps behind me and wraps his arm around me, holding me tight against him.

“It’s the world,” He whispers in my ear. “And it’s at your feet.” I hear the echo of his voice in my memory telling me he’d give me the world one day and it makes me smile.

“Look at you,” I say, “Making good on your promises.”

“I intend to. I truly do,” He says, and he reaches down to take my hand and turns me so that I’m facing him. He smiles down at me for a second and then reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a small, square black box with the words Tiffany & Co printed over the top.

My heart stops.

Oh. My. God.

“Here,” He says gently, and I reach out to take the box from him, wondering I should be offended he isn’t getting down on one knee. With shaking hands, I lift the top of the box but instead of a ring, I find a pair of round diamond earrings. They’re exquisite, bright and clear, and probably weighing around two carats each, and yet I feel a sinking sense of disappointment that it isn’t an engagement ring.

“They’re beautiful,” I manage to say, covering my chagrin with a smile.

“They’re celebratory,” He says.

“What are we celebrating?” I ask, and he takes a deep breath before he continues.

“I got the money,” He tells m,e and I feel the smile on my face slowly fade away.

“What do you mean?”

“The money for GEH, uh, Grey Enterprises Holdings, that’s what we’re calling the company. It came through about a week and half ago. Ros and I put a bid in for a small fiber optics company in Seattle. They accepted our offer this last Tuesday. She’s filing our Articles of Incorporation with the Washington Secretary of State as we speak.”

“So… you’re leaving then?” I ask, and I feel the threat of tears begin to sting my eyes as what he’s telling me begins to sink in.

“Well, it’ll take a while for our licenses and the different permits we need to come through. I’m going to spend the summer here, with you, just as we planned, but yes, once the term begins and Kate and Elliot return, I’ll be moving back to Seattle. Ros and I won’t be returning to Harvard in the fall.”

“I-I-” I stutter, but I can’t form a coherent thought to respond to him. I’m actually speechless as I attempt to process what’s happening. A few seconds ago, I thought he was about to propose and now, he’s telling me that he’s leaving… for good.

“Hey,” He says, wrapping his arms around me. “I know this is going to be difficult, but we’re going to work it out. I’ll get an apartment for us in Seattle and if you arrange your schedule so you only have classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I can fly you out to Seattle when you get out of class Thursday, and you’ll fly back Monday evening. As my company grows, I’ll be traveling to the East coast all the time and I’ll make time to come down to Cambridge to stay with you when I can. And you’ll come home to me for all the holidays. It’s not ideal, but it’ll only be until you finish school and then we’ll be together all the time.”

“So… you want me to live in Seattle four days a week and then fly all the way across the country for three days and then do it all over again every week for the next three years?” I ask.

“Yes, and I know it’s a lot but you’ll have more time than you think. You can do homework on your flights, think of all the extra time you’ll have to catch up on your reading. And maybe it wouldn’t have to be every weekend. I could come to Cambridge one weekend a month when my schedule allows it.”

“Christian, surely you see how ridiculous that sounds. I can’t simultaneously live on opposite sides of the country. What about campus life, and study groups, and my job?”

“You wouldn’t have to work,” He says. “I’d take care of you. You can schedule your study groups for Tuesday and Wednesday nights. I can’t really give you campus life, but isn’t it worth giving up to be together?”

“Christian…” I reply hesitantly, feeling a tear fall down my cheek as I feel myself being pulled apart by the decision to be made. “Of course I want to be with you. I love you, more than is probably good for me, but… Harvard is my dream. I mean, my dad literally went to war so I could be here.”

“I know that,” He says, looking me in the eyes. “I’m not asking you to give it up.”

I don’t know how to respond to him. In truth, I’m still flabbergasted. I wasn’t prepared for this even being a possibility. I thought they didn’t have any prospective investors and both he and Ros told me they were giving up.

Put me in shackles, I’m your willing prisoner.

That’s what he told me the night after it all came out, after he told me that he’d lost his very last option, getting the money from Elena.

I freeze. The moment I think her name, a horrible, disgusting thought comes into my mind, so terrible that I can’t allow myself to even entertain the idea. I look up at him suspiciously.

“Where did you get the money?” I ask.

“What do you mean?” He replies.

“You told me you were giving up, that you’d run out of options and that you were going to have to wait a few years before you tried again. So where did the money come from?”

“It turns out we hadn’t quite exhausted all of our options,” He says evasively, and the way he diverts his eyes from mine as he speaks makes me actually believe I’m right, and bile creeps up into my throat.

“Did Elena give it to you?” I ask, struggling to maintain my composure as I fight off the torrent of tears that I know is coming.

“What makes you think that?” He asks, but I’m not going to be distracted by his side stepping the question.

“Did Elena offer to give you money to start your company if you lied for her on the stand?” I continue, but he doesn’t respond this time. I see his eyes dart back and forth as he wracks his brain for an excuse. He’s going to lie… again.

I’m not going to fall for it this time.

“She did, didn’t she?” I ask again. “That’s why you didn’t just lie about how old you were when it started, but that you had never had sex with her, because infidelity would still be enough for Mr. Lincoln to take his money in the divorce and you needed to make sure that she would get at least half of his money so that she could pay you, so you lied about it all.”

“Ana-” He begins, but I hold my finger up in front of his face to stop him. The depth of this betrayal is infuriating, but in this moment, I welcome it. The anger helps me fight back the tears and the crippling agony I know is just on the other side of this argument. There is no way we’ll move past this now. Whatever tenuous bond existed that held us together over these last difficult weeks, just snapped completely in half, leaving us both stranded on opposite sides of a chasm that neither of us will find a way to cross.

“Don’t,” I tell him, my voice hard. “I don’t want to hear another word from you until you admit to me what you have done.”

He doesn’t say anything, but I can see fear in his eyes now.

“Admit it, Christian. You traded your testimony for startup money,” I demand. His gaze bores into me as I see him physically brace himself.

“Yes,” He says, and with involuntary quickness, my hand flies out, and I slap him, hard, across the face. He doesn’t react, he just continues to stare back at me with the same disbelieving, panicked look in his eyes.

“I can’t believe how selfish you are,” I spit at him. “Do you know what this has done to your mother? Your father? Do you even care? You’ve lied to me over, and over, and over again. There are a lot of things that I would forgive for you, Christian Grey. But this… this is not one of them.”

I push the earrings back into his hand and turn to storm back to the elevator, but he reaches out and grabs my elbow, effectively stopping me and turning me back to face him.

“Ana, wait!” He says, alarmed, “What are you-?”

“Don’t touch me!” I yell, attempting to wrench my arm out of his grasp, but he doesn’t release me.

“You can’t leave,” He breathes. “You can’t run.”

“Let me go, Christian,” I warn him.

“No!” He says again. “No, no, no!” He’s searching now, looking desperately around as if the words he needs to say to make this all better will suddenly fall out of the sky and into his lap. They don’t though, there isn’t anything he can say, and so he turns a pleading look back to me. “Please, Anastasia.”

At last I’m able to pull my arm free of his grasp. “You know, I used to feel sorry for you, for everything she’d done to you physically, emotionally… but you’re right. You’re not a victim,” I tell him coldly. “You’re a whore, and she’s paid for you now.”

He doesn’t try to stop me when I turn this time and I hurry across the observation deck and through the double doors to get away from him. A family of tourists pour out of the elevator just as I reach the doors and I slip inside and begin pounding furiously against the door close button. I can see Christian through the glass just outside the room and I think he comes out of whatever stupor he’s in as, suddenly, he begins running for the double doors.

“Ana!” He calls out with desperation, but the elevator doors close just before he can reach me, and I dissolve into tears as I make the descent to Fifth Avenue.

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