Something Reckless
Page 57
The audience breaks into applause, and my father smiles and waves before exiting the stage.
Beside me, Liz is pale. I’m not sure she’s taken a single unnecessary breath in the last fifteen minutes. In fact, I’m pretty sure she skipped a few essential doses of oxygen.
“Well done,” I whisper in her ear. I help her to her feet, since everyone else is already standing to applaud, and that seems to snap her out of it. She claps with the rest of us until my father returns to our table and kisses my mother hard on the mouth before taking his seat.
“That was an amazing speech,” Sabrina tells my father.
“Agreed,” Governor Guy says as we all take our seats. “I’m afraid my opening speech paled in comparison.”
“Your speech was fantastic, Governor,” Liz says. “The part about Hoosier pride and the two Indianas—small town and city—and how we need to work together so both can thrive? That was spot on.”
Christine beams. “Why, thank you, Elizabeth. I thought that might resonate with this crowd. But don’t be modest. Travis tells me you’re responsible for his speech tonight.”
“I can’t take all the credit,” Liz says. “Connor and Mr. Bradshaw each played a big part in getting it right.”
“She flatters us,” my father says. “Connor and I tweaked, but Liz was the mind behind the speech. Quite the wordsmith, this one.”
The string quartet starts to play, and my father and mother excuse themselves for the dance floor.
When they’re gone, Christine leans across the table toward Liz. “Have you applied for a position on my campaign yet?”
“What?”
“Don’t look so shocked. I’ve known Travis a long time, and he has an eye for talent. You should apply for a position with my campaign. It would be an amazing experience for you.”
Sabrina rolls her eyes. “Mom, Liz is a small-town girl. I’m sure the last thing she wants to do is be stuck on the campaign trail with you. Am I right, Liz?”
My stomach knots as I wait for her to answer. I want her to prove Sabrina wrong, because her presumption is insulting. On the other hand, I don’t want Liz to leave. Maybe this started as a cover, an attempt to appease my father and help my image while keeping Della’s jealousy at bay, but it’s more than that now. It’s more than a campaign move and it’s more than sex. At least, it is for me.
“Home isn’t the place you never leave. It’s the place where you return. New Hope will be here after we get Governor Guy in the White House.”
And as much as I hate the idea of her leaving, I’m proud of her answer. “Christine, don’t corner her now. She’ll think about it and get back to you. Come dance with me,” I say to Liz.
She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip and nods. Taking her hand, I lead her to the dance floor and pull her into my arms. Where she belongs. She settles against me.
“You’re amazing, you know that?”
She shakes her head and avoids my gaze. “I’m not amazing. Your family is amazing. Look what they’re doing for me.”
“I already told you my father doesn’t tolerate anything but the best. He’s not doing you any favors, Liz. You’re talented. Now, do something for me.”
“What?”
“Take a deep breath. You’ve been holding your breath all night and I’d rather not lose you to oxygen depravation just yet.”
She laughs a little and her body softens incrementally. “No one ever took me seriously before. To be fair, that’s my fault. I’m not smart like my sisters, and I suck at taking tests, so I always told myself that my brain wasn’t important. People liked me just fine for other reasons, until your dad brought me into his campaign and pushed me to write his speeches, and rewrite his speeches. I would have thought having someone push me like that would be draining, but it’s just the opposite. I’m energized. I didn’t realize how exhausting it was to dismiss my own mind.”
I slide a hand into her hair, letting the soft tendrils curl around my fingers. “Why do you say you’re not smart?”
“Because I’m not. I wasn’t good at school. No one cares that you can write if you can’t take tests.” She stops and shrugs as if that explains everything, but I wait, knowing there’s more, and eventually she gives it to me. “My mom pulled strings to get me into Sinclair. She never admitted it, but I know it’s true. It’s probably for the best she did, because if I hadn’t been able to go to college with Hanna, I probably wouldn’t have gone at all. Everyone thought I was dumb. I guess those assumptions already come standard with the blond hair, but it’s more than that with me.”
“I never thought you were dumb.”
She sighs. “I had to cheat to pass the written portion of my driver’s test. Seriously, the only thing I can do is write.”
I pull back so I can look in her eyes. “I never thought you were dumb,” I repeat. “Lots of people don’t test well, and, frankly, that’s a pretty arbitrary measure of intelligence. I’ve always thought of you as smart and talented.”
Something flickers in her big blue eyes and she steps out of my arms. “Thank you. I really appreciate that.” She points toward the table. “Excuse me. I’m going to go get a drink.”
Just like that, she slips from my arms, and I find Sabrina sliding into them.
Beside me, Liz is pale. I’m not sure she’s taken a single unnecessary breath in the last fifteen minutes. In fact, I’m pretty sure she skipped a few essential doses of oxygen.
“Well done,” I whisper in her ear. I help her to her feet, since everyone else is already standing to applaud, and that seems to snap her out of it. She claps with the rest of us until my father returns to our table and kisses my mother hard on the mouth before taking his seat.
“That was an amazing speech,” Sabrina tells my father.
“Agreed,” Governor Guy says as we all take our seats. “I’m afraid my opening speech paled in comparison.”
“Your speech was fantastic, Governor,” Liz says. “The part about Hoosier pride and the two Indianas—small town and city—and how we need to work together so both can thrive? That was spot on.”
Christine beams. “Why, thank you, Elizabeth. I thought that might resonate with this crowd. But don’t be modest. Travis tells me you’re responsible for his speech tonight.”
“I can’t take all the credit,” Liz says. “Connor and Mr. Bradshaw each played a big part in getting it right.”
“She flatters us,” my father says. “Connor and I tweaked, but Liz was the mind behind the speech. Quite the wordsmith, this one.”
The string quartet starts to play, and my father and mother excuse themselves for the dance floor.
When they’re gone, Christine leans across the table toward Liz. “Have you applied for a position on my campaign yet?”
“What?”
“Don’t look so shocked. I’ve known Travis a long time, and he has an eye for talent. You should apply for a position with my campaign. It would be an amazing experience for you.”
Sabrina rolls her eyes. “Mom, Liz is a small-town girl. I’m sure the last thing she wants to do is be stuck on the campaign trail with you. Am I right, Liz?”
My stomach knots as I wait for her to answer. I want her to prove Sabrina wrong, because her presumption is insulting. On the other hand, I don’t want Liz to leave. Maybe this started as a cover, an attempt to appease my father and help my image while keeping Della’s jealousy at bay, but it’s more than that now. It’s more than a campaign move and it’s more than sex. At least, it is for me.
“Home isn’t the place you never leave. It’s the place where you return. New Hope will be here after we get Governor Guy in the White House.”
And as much as I hate the idea of her leaving, I’m proud of her answer. “Christine, don’t corner her now. She’ll think about it and get back to you. Come dance with me,” I say to Liz.
She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip and nods. Taking her hand, I lead her to the dance floor and pull her into my arms. Where she belongs. She settles against me.
“You’re amazing, you know that?”
She shakes her head and avoids my gaze. “I’m not amazing. Your family is amazing. Look what they’re doing for me.”
“I already told you my father doesn’t tolerate anything but the best. He’s not doing you any favors, Liz. You’re talented. Now, do something for me.”
“What?”
“Take a deep breath. You’ve been holding your breath all night and I’d rather not lose you to oxygen depravation just yet.”
She laughs a little and her body softens incrementally. “No one ever took me seriously before. To be fair, that’s my fault. I’m not smart like my sisters, and I suck at taking tests, so I always told myself that my brain wasn’t important. People liked me just fine for other reasons, until your dad brought me into his campaign and pushed me to write his speeches, and rewrite his speeches. I would have thought having someone push me like that would be draining, but it’s just the opposite. I’m energized. I didn’t realize how exhausting it was to dismiss my own mind.”
I slide a hand into her hair, letting the soft tendrils curl around my fingers. “Why do you say you’re not smart?”
“Because I’m not. I wasn’t good at school. No one cares that you can write if you can’t take tests.” She stops and shrugs as if that explains everything, but I wait, knowing there’s more, and eventually she gives it to me. “My mom pulled strings to get me into Sinclair. She never admitted it, but I know it’s true. It’s probably for the best she did, because if I hadn’t been able to go to college with Hanna, I probably wouldn’t have gone at all. Everyone thought I was dumb. I guess those assumptions already come standard with the blond hair, but it’s more than that with me.”
“I never thought you were dumb.”
She sighs. “I had to cheat to pass the written portion of my driver’s test. Seriously, the only thing I can do is write.”
I pull back so I can look in her eyes. “I never thought you were dumb,” I repeat. “Lots of people don’t test well, and, frankly, that’s a pretty arbitrary measure of intelligence. I’ve always thought of you as smart and talented.”
Something flickers in her big blue eyes and she steps out of my arms. “Thank you. I really appreciate that.” She points toward the table. “Excuse me. I’m going to go get a drink.”
Just like that, she slips from my arms, and I find Sabrina sliding into them.
