CHAPTER FOUR
Sunday night, while Spencer and I were at Lucques for dinner, I received a call from Pembrook. This was not unusual if I was gone for days at a time as he would ring me to confirm I was still breathing so I denied the call, planning on calling back when dinner was over.
“So Brown, eh?” I asked Spencer.
“Yup,” he said, perusing his menu but briefly looking up to make a silly face. “So Yale, eh?” he teased.
I sighed in reply.
“How do you suppose we’ll withstand the weather?”
“I plan on racking up thousands of frequent flyer miles. I don’t want to leave, to be honest.”
“Damn, Spencer, that breaks my heart a little.”
“I know, but Brown is my family’s institution and,” he dropped an octave, “no son of my father’s will attend anywhere else.”
“Will you get supremely pissed if I tell you how much I can’t stand your father and that if it were me, I’d defy him just to screw him, no pun intended?”
Spencer’s facial expression hardened and I regretted insulting his father. That is, until he said, “No one can stand my father, including my father. He’s a terrible person and I hate him.”
His expression didn’t change and I realized how deep that resentment toward his father really went.
“Don’t go to Brown then,” I simply told him.
“I can’t do that,” he said, exhaling sharply and staring out the glass into the street.
“Why not?”
His face softened. “I need his money.”
Spencer looked at me and I couldn’t help but stare back. We were all in the same boat, prisoners to greed. Suddenly, my stomach dropped out from under me.
“I don’t want to be like them,” I candidly admitted as much to myself as to him.
Spencer leaned over and took my hand in his, squeezing my fingers in earnest.
“Neither do I.”
“How do we break the cycle?”
He sighed heavily and sank into the plush booth, releasing my hand. “I don’t think we can, Soph. It’s done.”
“Don’t say that,” I desperately argued. “Don’t say that,” I repeated as if that could change it.
“Why not?” he asked me, furrowing his brows in frustration. “We’re dependent on them, utterly. I could no more live in a studio with barely enough cash to feed myself any more than you could.” A single tear fell from my face at the truth of that declaration and Spencer wiped it gingerly away. “We’re stuck, Price.”
“I can’t believe that.”
“Well, try. Look at us, Soph. We party harshly at the Holes on the weekends. I think we’ve all had sex with one another at least once, apart from you and I. And I’d still do you if you’d just admit that you like me as much as I like you.” I cringed into myself a little. When I didn’t respond, he continued, turning to study the nightlife outside our window again.
“The only difference between us and our parents is that we’re younger, we do coke while they drink, but we’ll graduate or simmer to that, depending on how you look at it, as they did. We’re not married but soon we will be and to each other, but it won’t matter because we’ll trade partners like we do now. We’re addicted to the lifestyle. I can’t see a way out of that.” He leaned over me. “And need I remind you, that you rule us all?”
“That won’t be necessary, Spence, but thank you. I’m well aware my standing in our group.”
Unexpectedly, I wanted as far away from Spencer and my life as quickly as possible, but how could I remove myself from the toxicity when I was the main component in the vile concoction that was our lives?
On our way back to the W, I took the opportunity to ring Pembrook.