The Tuition Fee

Chapter 31: September, Year 4, The Interview

Nathaniel

I glance at Alina on the far side of the townhome, sitting demurely at the kitchen table, staring at her phone. She's in a blue sundress, hair curled and makeup evenly applied to try and lessen the dark circles under her eyes. It's the first time I've seen her since the wedding, and every second is agony. 

"Are you ready?" I muster, leaning against the wall. 

She barely looks up at me before looking back down at the table. I've never seen her so small. "I don't think I have a choice." She's barely risen her voice above a whisper since stepping in the house and I have to strain to hear her clearly. 

I frown, crossing my arms. "This is going to be the hardest interview we've had. Can you do it?" She spins the ring on her finger and gives a single nod. "Good." 

I turn my gaze back to the front door and the window just beyond. We're waiting for Mr. Francis, who in our final year at Britton, prefers to make house calls instead of going to his office. It was something we only found out about a week ago, when he'd called Alina to set up a time to come. It was the first message she'd sent me since the wedding. She stayed with Marissa for a few days before moving back in, but I didn't see her. All I did here anymore was sleep, and even that sometimes was too much knowing she was only a few feet away from me. 

I stare out the window for a few more seconds before turning to look back at her. Her phone is still in front of her but she's looking down at the ring, twisting and twisting and twisting it. I scan over her body, now so much thinner than it had ever been before. Reese mentioned to me her dad was getting worse, but I couldn't bring myself to ask her about it just then. Looking at her now, so small, the shredded pieces of my heart begin to squeeze. 

Pushing off the wall, I strolled into the kitchen and grab some bread, peanut butter, and strawberry jelly and make half a sandwich. I place the plate in front of Alina who looks up at me with wide, red eyes. "What is this?" Even her voice is weaker, and her grip around her stomach tightens. 

"You haven't been eating. You need to eat." I don't say anything more, walking back to the window. I do keep one eye on her though, watching how long it takes her to pick up the bread and nibble off a corner. She squeezes her eyes shut and stands, hurrying into the kitchen to get a glass of water. She sits back down and slowly, so slowly it hurts me, she eats the sandwich. 

Right when she finishes, I see Mr. Francis strolling up the sidewalk with his little briefcase and a cup of coffee. "He's here." 

Alina stands quickly, grabbing her plate and cup and moving into the kitchen. I wait a few seconds after Mr. Francis knocks to open the door, forcing a smile to my face. "Hello, Mr. Francis. Good to see you again."

"Mr. Crane! Hello, how are you?" He shakes my hand and I gesture him into the threshold. 

"Fine. Alina is in the kitchen, we just finished lunch." I watch him look around, analyzing the everything about our space. The books in the study, the pictures on the walls, the shoes shoved under the foyer table. I try to see it from his point of view, to gage how lived-in our space looks but it just appears like it always does to me. Home. 

We move into the living room and he scans the blankets draped over the couch and arm chair, the pillows, more pictures and more books. His eyes finally land on Alina, standing behind the sink and furiously scrubbing her plate. 

She looks up and smiles but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Hello, Mr. Francis. Can I get you anything to drink or eat?" 

He shakes his head, holding up his coffee. "Stopped on the way over. Your townhome feels so homey, very comfortable. My wife would be jealous of the blankets you have."