I shouldn’t have stormed out of Simone’s house.
I knew her father was going to challenge me. I just thought Simone would be on my side. I thought we’d face her parents together.
There isn’t a person in this world who could rip me away from her. I thought she felt the same.
So when I turned and looked at her and saw that doubt in her eyes . . . it put a tear in my heart. I could feel the flesh ripping inside my chest.
I would go through anything for her. As long as we’re in it together.
She was embarrassed of me. I could tell. I dressed so carefully. But it wasn’t enough. I can’t change what I look like, who I am.
I felt like a bear lumbering around in an art gallery. Everything I did was clumsy and wrong.
And then I left in a rage—proving I was exactly as uncivilized as they thought.
I try to call Simone after. Twenty or thirty times. She never answers. I can’t tell if she’s ignoring me, or if her father took her phone.
I lurk around their house for days. I don’t see Simone leaving in the chauffeured car. Only her father, and once her mother.
It’s driving me insane.
The more time passes, the more I think that the dinner was my fault. It was too much to expect Simone to back me up when I was acting like an animal. I antagonized her father right from the start—what did I expect her to do?
I have to see her.
I wait until night, and I sneak onto the grounds again.
But this time, the security team isn’t just fucking around. They’re on high alert. They’ve put up sensors and they’ve got a fucking Doberman prowling around. The thing starts barking before I’m ten feet onto the grounds.
I haven’t planned for any of that. I was too anxious to see Simone. I didn’t think it through.
They chase me off immediately, and I can hear one of the guards calling the cops. I slink off, humiliated all over again.
I look up at Simone’s window, which hangs like a bright, glowing frame against the dark house.
I see a figure standing there, hand pressed to the window. I see her slim silhouette, and her spread fingers on the glass. But I can’t see her face. I don’t know if she wants me to leave, or to try again.
I have no idea what she’s thinking.
