"Artem, I fucked up."
Four words that were enough to put anyone, even the most calm, level-headed person, on edge. Certainly not what Artem wanted to wake up to any day, much less the day of an important presentation for his Economics seminar.
"What did you do this time, Taylor?" he asked, a knot forming at the back of his throat. By that point, he had formed several theories about the chaos behind his friend's phone call:
a) he'd gotten a girl pregnant,
b) he was caught plagiarizing the Biochem project (for the second time in a row),
c) his dad finally cut him off,
d) or something else entirely unrelated.
"I told Margaux I slept with someone else," Taylor finally said.
"That's it?" Artem asked, surprised
that was, before the deep sense of irritation set in.
John Edward Taylor , the son of John Ernest Taylor and his first wife, Gladys -honestly, who could even keep track of her surname after that many divorces?- got away with many things someone like Artem Gold(stein) could never pull off. They had both made it into the same university, even though Artem had gotten a perfect score in his entrance exams, whereas Taylor only scored a few points below average. All because Taylor's parents had both gone to the same university and were both generous donors to the scholarship fund that helped kids like Artem do something else other than working their parents' fields in the middle of nowhere. Taylor was over six feet tall, green-eyed and good looking, so even without his family's money, he could get away with things poor Artem could hardly even dream of. Despite all of that, however, the two had hit it off as soon as they were placed into the same room by randomized freshman housing. From day one, they had been inseparable, choosing the same field of study and joining the same fraternity.
Even then, however, Artem still could not help but feel a little jealous when Taylor's so-called "crises" arose. Artem had enough financial, academic and family problems to worry about: he had no time to weep about doe-eyed, empty-minded girls (if he could even miraculously attract any).
"What do you mean, 'that's it'? Boy, she's not taking my calls," Taylor complained, "I don't know what to do."
"Taylor, I have a presentation today. Can we talk about this later?"
"It'll be quick, hey, I promise- besides, you know how it works with girls,"
No, I don't know how 'it works with girls,' asshat, Artem thought.
"The more time you give them to think about it without doing anything, the angrier they grow at you," Taylor said.
"I don't know, find her and apologize in person?" like a decent human being who takes responsibility for his actions, perhaps.
"You're right, man! Thanks, agh, I owe you one- you're brilliant! By the way, good luck on the presentation, you're going to kill it," Taylor said, reminding Artem once more of why he did not absolutely hate the guy- it was just impossible to. He was incredibly charismatic, and despite being a little out of touch with the real world at times, Taylor was not a bad person.
Once they hung up, Artem continued to iron one of his two nice shirts- a hand-me-down Taylor had outgrown after he started lifting weights- for his presentation. He was feeling nervous, but confident in his knowledge of the material: he had stayed up for two nights in a row to finish adding in all the graphs and diagrams, double-checking all of the material to avoid any awkward mistakes in front of his professor or the other students. He knew that because of his background and his funny appearance, any mistake he made he could not laugh off as easily as Taylor, and that it would be amplified several times, used as a weapon against students like him.
Before walking to class, he decided to make one last phone call.
"Hellooo," a sweet child's voice sang on the other end, followed by a giggle.
"Julia? Hey, is mom at home?" Artem asked his younger sister.
"She's sleeping," Julia said into the phone. Then Artem heard her shouting in the background, "mommy!"
"No, no, no, it's okay. Let her sleep. How have you been, Jules?"
"My tooth fell off yesterday. The tooth fairy left me three pennies, she's getting stingy."
Artem laughed, but he felt the knot in the back of his throat form again. Julia was not old enough to understand yet, but he knew exactly what that meant. "Did you give her a rotten tooth again? You know the tooth fairy doesn't like cavities."
"It wasn't a rotten tooth! I clean my teeth now, brother, I'm a big girl now and I brush them myself!"
"Good girl. You also shouldn't be eating that much candy," Artem, failed pre-med child, warned.
"But I like candy, candy makes me happy!"
"Fine, you can eat it sometimes, but don't forget to brush your teeth after. By the way, how's mom?"
"Mommy is-" Julia started, but she was cut off by a loud beeping noise.
Out of minutes. Until next paycheck, Artem thought.
YOU ARE READING
Parallel Lines
RomanceHave you ever looked into a strangers eyes and felt as if the two of you had known each other for a lifetime? What about meeting someone and just instantly determining that the two of you would never get along? Follow the lives of twenty-something...
