Chapter Ten: What If I Never Get Over You

Georgie

WHAT IF I NEVER GET OVER YOU

Performed by Lady A

A couple weeks went by with July slipping into the heat and humidity of early August. The air in D.C. was as humid as the air in New York had always been. I realized, as I settled into my new apartment, that D.C. had as much energy as the city I'd left behind, but it was an energy that held a different vibe. New York was contained chaos. D.C. was forceful control.

The planner in me required me to learn my new city—the facts, the directions, the streets. I needed to know it all. The places you didn't want to journey to on your own, as well as the places that were too rich for your blood. I'd chosen Georgetown after a significant amount of research, including the pros and cons of living in D.C., but now that I was here, I needed to experience it for real. To prove what I'd read.

The first couple days, I spent doing touristy things, like hitting up the memorials and the museums as well as learning my way around the city by foot and public transportation. Then, I wandered the campus so I knew exactly where everything was and how to traverse from one place to the next. I got my schedule and bought my books, and my excitement about going back to school slowly increased.

I found myself cracking the books open and even taking notes on the chapters. It felt good to be delving back into research and studies. The portion of my brain that I needed for papers and textbooks felt stale, and I wanted to kick the rust to the curb before the first day of school.

Once I'd started delving in, I couldn't stop. I journeyed to the law library almost daily, looking up abstracts and case law that applied. I was listening to the news Daniella had blaring from the three TVs and found new things to look up based on that news.

I was deep into my research at the library one day, typing furiously and highlighting lines in a newspaper article, when a man stopped at the table where I had my materials spread. He was in a suit and tie that seemed to have been crafted specifically for him, but what caught my attention was the look of curiosity he had on his face.

"Fourth Amendment?" he asked.

I nodded.

"Are you looking for something in particular?" he continued.

My cheeks flushed slightly. I wasn't exactly embarrassed by my uber enthusiasm, but I also wasn't sure why or if this man would really be interested in my recent obsession.

"I've been looking at varying case studies regarding search and seizure," I told him .

"Because you've been arrested?" he asked with a smile, leaning against my table in a way that put him in my personal space. I backed up a little at the same time I smiled back.

"No, I haven't been arrested. I was just following a case on the news where a woman had told an officer she didn't consent to the search of her bag, and he did it anyway and then arrested her for the illegal drugs he found there."

The man, who still hadn't introduced himself, was slowly taking me in. "Did the officer have a warrant or cause?"

"No warrant. But the cause is the conflicting part, right? What exactly would deem a situation cause worthy?"

He looked down over my books. "Are you enrolled in summer classes or starting in the fall?"

"Starting in the fall."

He smiled. "Professor Collins on your schedule?"

I nodded.

"Well, now you've met me," he said. He stood up from his lounged position. "I have to head out now, but if you stop by my office tomorrow around two, I can get you started on the case studies we'll be doing in the practicum course."

"Really? That would be great," I said, no longer caring if my enthusiasm topped the side of overly eager. "I'm Georgie, by the way."

"See you tomorrow, Georgie." Then he headed out the library doors.

My stomach squished with ridiculous happiness followed by an audible growl that had me looking around to make sure no one had heard my hunger cry. I didn't need to worry. The library was obnoxiously empty during the summer.

I packed up and headed back toward the apartment.

I stopped at a deli I'd been frequenting on my way and was waiting in line when a text from Raisa came in.

RAISA: Please put me out of my gloom.

ME: Do you mean, out of your misery?

RAISA: This is no time to correct my English.

ME: What's up?

RAISA: Father and Malik are at odds once more.

ME: Why now?

RAISA: They would not let me hear. They shut the door when I went by the study.

I often forgot about the dark side of Petya's business. Maybe it was on purpose. Maybe it was so I could have "plausible deniability." Raisa didn't have that option. She lived it. I'd joked with Ava about Petya being followed by multiple agencies when he came to the States, but I wondered now if that was also the case for my siblings. Would they have their own tails when they came? With a sort of shock to my system, I wondered if I'd been followed whenever Raisa had visited me in New York. I wondered if our conversations had been listened to.

The happiness that had filled me at the library dimmed. Back in Rockport, I'd been hard on Mac for letting the idea of my family stop him from kissing me again. I'd pulled on my normal, to-hell-with-you attitude. But now it made me wonder if he'd been right to be wary. To step away from a woman with ties that could never mean anything good.

When I'd left Ava's, I'd also expected to leave behind Mac, our one stormy kiss, and the pull he'd had on me. Instead, he'd tormented my dreams in a way that left me aching in the morning like I hadn't ached before. As if I was suddenly missing something that had never been mine.

For the first time in a long time, my bitterness was directed at my parents instead of the person walking away from me. Would my family prevent me from more things in my life? Things other than kisses? Would I be admitted to the bar with their history sitting on my shoulders?

I returned to the last text from Raisa.

ME: It'll pass. It always does.

RAISA: It will not matter once I am at Stanford. I wish I were leaving tomorrow.

Suddenly, I feared that everything with Petya might actually matter, for both her and me, but I didn't want to be the one to darken her hopes.

ME: A few weeks more. September is right around the corner.

RAISA: Love you, moy dorogoy .

ME: Love you, malyshka.

Thoughts of my family and Mac followed me back to the apartment.

After eating a sandwich, I purposefully lost myself back in the Fourth Amendment with a podcast that I'd discovered on the topic. I allowed myself to geek out over the law and the facts that I could see in black-and-white instead of the what-ifs of my family.

When the last episode on the podcast ended, I took off my noise-cancelling headphones and heard the TV on downstairs. Daniella was home. I wondered if she'd want to catch up on the latest episode of Fighting for the Stars . I'd started watching the singing competition because Brady was going to be a guest host in a couple of weeks, but the show had slowly sucked me in—and Daniella along with me. It had been a good way to bond with my new roommate. We'd laughed, screamed, and thrown things at the TV over the judging.

Now, I could use the show and her company to continue distracting me from my thoughts.

I headed down the stairs, water bottle in hand. "Hey, Daniella…" I started, and I abruptly stopped when I realized that she wasn't alone on the couch. There were two dark heads tucked together—one decidedly male. "Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't realize your boyfriend was here."

The two bodies jumped apart. Daniella yelled, "Ew," at the same time that the male said, "What the fuck?"

My water bottle clattered to the floor as the male body that rose from the couch and turned to face me was the same one that had haunted my dreams. Now he was here...in sweats and a T-shirt that showed every part of him that I'd tried desperately to forget.

We all stood, staring at each other as if someone could find an explanation as to how—in all of D.C.—Mac had ended up in my apartment.