Girl, 11 by Amy Clarke (best memoirs of all time TXT) 📕

She giggled and shook her head too, a mutual agreement that he really was such an airhead. “Maggie Henderson! Remember, from the laundromat?”

DJ smacked his forehead. “Of course! I remember now.” He did not, but it hardly mattered. “With the . . .”

“Quarter that wouldn’t work, yes,” she nodded, edging closer. “You were so sweet to give me yours. I owe you.” Her eyebrows lifted in a way that stirred something in his gut.

Now he could place her. The incident happened maybe six weeks ago, though he’d barely noticed her. He had his own washer and dryer at home, but the campus laundromat provided a good source of white noise when the library became too crowded. All the machines whirring and students silently waiting for the endless cycles to finish. It was a supremely underrated study space.

“I was actually hoping to run into you here,” she continued.

This brought a genuine smile to DJ’s face. As Maggie leaned against the wall behind her, he moved in closer, tilting his head slightly. “Oh, really? Why’s that?” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of bright red. He glanced in that direction and froze.

There she was, like a vision from his nightmares.

Loretta.

Momentarily, DJ lost his balance and pitched forward, catching himself on the wall behind Maggie just in time. She shrank away from him, as if she saw something dangerous flicker in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, glancing at her before his eyes returned to Loretta. Without another word to Maggie, DJ straightened up and adjusted his tie. He watched as Loretta spoke to one of the faculty directors from Mitchell who had helped organize the event. The past four years had been kind to her, fleshing out the hollows in her cheeks, although she had shadows under her eyes. The marks of an academic. She had cut her auburn hair into a short, edgy bob—something he never would have expected from the girl he fell in love with. But it suited her.

Nerves buzzed across his skin, skittered around inside his ribs. Maybe this was his chance. He could show her how far he’d come, how much he’d accomplished since she left him. Regardless of her intent, her rejection had woken him up, focused his ambitions. Now he could prove she had made a mistake. If she was here, it must mean she had also gone on to do her doctoral studies, was also single.

Shoulders back, DJ approached her. She was still wearing her bulky red coat, a testament to the frigid winter weather outside. When he was a few yards away, Loretta looked away from the man she was talking to, and her eyes lit up with an emotion DJ couldn’t decipher. He smiled, reached out his arms in what he hoped was a casual, friendly invitation for embrace. She let out a short, astonished laugh but stepped in for a hug. When she was pressed close to him, he felt it and stepped back, shocked.

With his hands on her shoulders, DJ stared at her midsection. He hadn’t noticed with her coat on, but it seemed obvious now how much it stuck out. Heat flooded his neck and cheeks as his mouth dropped open. “I . . . Hi,” was all he could manage.

Loretta offered a small smile. “DJ, hello. How are you?”

“I’m fine,” he said, finally ripping his gaze away from her pregnant belly and back to her flushed face. “I’m sorry. This is a surprise.”

“It was to me too,” Loretta said with a laugh. “Obviously I didn’t plan to have a baby while doing my PhD, but sometimes things happen, I suppose.”

They do, he thought, if you are irresponsible. But it would do no good to tell her what she must already know. They had always been chaste with each other, never sharing more than a passionate kiss, due to their religious upbringings. Even though he had done plenty more since, the thought of her going farther with another man sent a flash of jealousy through him.

Loretta shifted in front of him, scratched behind her right ear. “So, what are you doing here in Minnesota? Jenny told me you were at Yale.”

DJ briefly filled her in on starting his program back East and the subsequent move to Minnesota after his father fell sick. She then explained that she had moved to Minneapolis shortly after graduation, having accepted a fellowship at the University of Minnesota. When she held up her left hand, a gold ring sparkled there. DJ’s heart clenched.

“My husband is from here originally and wanted to be closer to family. It was a small sacrifice to make. The U of M has a great—”

“You’re married?”

Loretta blinked, her hand moving to cover her stomach. “Yes, of course.”

“Why are you here, then?” Fury zipped through DJ’s veins like the aftershock of drinking strong coffee. “This is a singles event.”

Lips tightening, Loretta leaned in and lowered her voice, as if to balance the sudden loudness of DJ’s. “This is a networking event, DJ.”

“It’s disingenuous for you to take the space of a person who actually needs to meet people,” DJ said. “Some of us are actually here to meet fellow PhDs, not flirt with faculty representatives to get ahead.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. He wasn’t sure if everyone had frozen around them to watch the show, or if he just felt like the noise and motion in the room had stopped. He couldn’t look away from her pink cheeks, her obscene belly, her stupid whorish haircut.

“You know, I had hoped you might change over time, but I can see that isn’t the case,” Loretta said, her voice even but firm. Her hands rested at her sides, opening and closing into fists. “What we had was good at the beginning, DJ. But after a while, I didn’t feel like you really saw me. You didn’t have any interest in me as a person, not really. Then I read that letter you wrote to your father, and everything became