A Different Kind of Us

Chapter 7

They ditch the boys. Ada gives Joey an extra key to her basement door and orders him to lock it after he and Derek are inside for the night. Then Sutton and Ada walk home, both of them nestling their hands in their hoodies.

They tiptoe up to Ada's bedroom. They put on their Old Navy cotton pajama bottoms and choose t-shirts with their favorite bands' names on them. Sutton laughs inwardly because she knows they'll be sneaking their hands under these clothes anyway.

They come together in bed and start kissing right away. Ada whispers silly things in the darkness to make Sutton laugh. Sutton lets her hands roam beneath Ada's t-shirt and enjoys the husking noises Ada makes. It's only been a few weeks since Sutton first witnessed these sounds, and they're still thrilling to her.

They cuddle up to each other after they've both come. Ada kisses Sutton's forehead and tries to soothe her into sleep, but for the first time in her 17 years, Sutton is awake.

Sutton existed in a zombie-like daze on Monday morning. She drove down into the city, nursing a thermos of coffee her mom had brewed for her--her mom could always tell when she was out of sorts, even at 25--and listening to NPR. She never listened to NPR, but she thought hearing about other events in the world might distract her from this collision with her past.

But she couldn't help but think of Ada. What would Ada be doing right now? Where was she driving in from? Sutton didn't even know where she lived.

She wondered if Ada would be drinking coffee. Ada had hated coffee when they were in high school--she had rolled her eyes every time one of their friends suggested Starbucks as a hangout spot--but Ada had said on Saturday morning that she sometimes drank it now. Did that mean every morning?

What would she be listening to? Was Radiohead still her favorite band? Was she playing Pandora or Spotify or her iPod? Or was she one of those people who made phone calls in the morning, rather than waking up with music?

Sutton negated that last thought as soon as she processed it. Ada had always hated talking on the phone.

There was one thing Sutton did know about the current Ada, and it settled onto her chest as she rolled her car into the Cyntera parking lot.

Ada did not trust her. And probably never would again.

It was one of those mornings where Sutton couldn't bring herself to do any work. She refreshed her Facebook newsfeed at least seven times before the 9:30 Monday meeting. To her right, she saw Wyatt's desktop screen: he was doing the same thing.

Marta must have sucked up everyone else's energy and swallowed it down into herself--surely that's why she was practically bouncing around the room while the rest of them keeled back against their chairs like shriveled up old people. Marta took them through a review of the "company pillars we erected this weekend" (Mikey P. snorted audibly), which included teamwork, accountability, creativity, and a persistent focus on the future. Sutton was restless through the meeting, crossing her right leg over her left, then her left leg over her right, then stretching out with her legs in front of her in completely un-ladylike fashion ("Piggish!", her mother would say), then slumping forward with her head on her hand.

Ada sat upright and still through the meeting, that haughty expression back on her face. Sutton wanted to outright throw something at her--a pen, a paperclip, anything--but whether to get her attention or just make her flinch, she didn't know.

"I am so out of commission right now," Wyatt said when they were back in the legal nook. He dragged his hands down his face and shook his hair like a wet dog. "You know what I need? Donuts. A dozen sugary, fattening Krispy Kremes. That's what we all need. You wanna come, Sutton?"