Sweet Water(63)

I make a yuck face. “Oh God, please stop. Both of you.” I never had a brother, and I do not need to know the things boys do to survive when women aren’t around.

My father defends himself. “I didn’t say that one—”

“You’re both at fault.” I groan, disgusted. “Hanna, do you want to go for that run now?” Hanna has been complaining that the freshman ten is starting to attack her midsection.

She rolls on her back. “No, but I need to. I’m going to be a size four by Christmas if I don’t,” she says, as if this is life-ending.

My father gets up and rights the chair in front of Hanna’s desk. “Remember what I said about those boys.” He looks at me sternly, earnestly, and I know he means well—he always has—but he’s wrong about this one.

“Sticky magazines. We got it.” Hanna laughs.

Dad points his finger at me once and walks out the door.

When the door shuts, Hanna shrugs off her cargo pants and Henley top. I can’t see an ounce of fat on her, but she manages to bunch up some skin on the side of her waist as she slips on jogging pants and a GAP sweatshirt.

“Pretty nice sweatshirt to run in.” I have one GAP sweatshirt, and I use it for class.

“Well, if we’re running on campus, we’ll be ‘seen.’” Hanna makes air quotes.

I throw my Christmas-green sweater that I’ve worn ten times already at her. “I thought we were doing this for exercise.”

“We are . . . but while you, Miss Sarah, are here to get your degree, I have other intentions.”

I’m afraid to ask. “What’s that?”

“I’m here to husband shop as well.”

“Oh Lord.” I turn around and put on my sports bra and the rest of my exercise outfit, because I only have one, and it’s not nearly as cute as Hanna’s.

“My mother landed my dad in college. This is a unique time when you can figure out a prospective partner’s potential net worth simply by asking their major.”

“Wow. Don’t you think that’s a bit shallow?”

“No. If I can land a premed student I really like or a brilliant chemist or something like that, why wouldn’t I? You can fall in love with a rich one as easily as you can fall in love with a poor one. Why not go for the gold?” Hanna pulls her long blonde hair up into a tight ponytail. She makes dating sound like an Olympic sport.

“I guess I don’t see it the same way.”

We close the door and lock it, and Hanna pulls a face at me. She looks like the front of a department store ad for athletic gear, and I’m embarrassed to jog next to her.

“What?” I ask.

“Really? You’re dating Martin Ellsworth and you don’t care about money. The boy drives a Saab.”

We take the steps two at a time down to the front of the building.

“It was his mother’s,” I say.

“Right . . . and it doesn’t matter to you at all that he comes from money? Tons of it. And that he’s majoring in robotics engineering, one of the hardest programs to get into?”

We begin to jog down the city sidewalk.

“The money, no. The program, yes. I want someone who’s motivated, but whether he’s going to be crazy rich because of it shouldn’t matter. Not if you really love him.” The truth is that I want both—love and money—but I’d never sacrifice love for money.

“Well, his money should matter to you, because I don’t think he would still be here if he didn’t have it. There were a lot of lawyers in the dean’s office after Tush passed . . .” Hanna stops speaking, but I don’t like the sound of what she had to say. Our pitiful jog turns into a trot. We’re both still feeling the pain of his loss, and I want to believe the best of Martin, because I’ve seen how hard he’s trying in class and on campus to prove his worth since Tush died. Maybe Dad is right and Martin is just “one of the lucky ones”—and Dad doesn’t like that.

“Is work still tense?” I ask.

Hanna works in the dean’s office. She doesn’t need the money—must be freaking nice—but she thinks it will look good on her résumé. She also thinks being a female engineer will give her a good shot at landing a great job when she graduates, because there are so few of them. Hanna is always looking for an opportunistic angle, and I have to envy her there.

“Things have gone back to norm since the university settled. The battle over the charter is still up in the air, though.”

“I don’t think they should lose their charter. It was an accident. My dad has a different opinion. He thinks there should be justice for Tush.”

Our jog slows at the mention of Tush’s name, and I don’t know if it’s because Hanna’s too winded or because she agrees with my father.

“Let’s turn here.” Hanna points toward Schenley Park, and we make a right. We start jogging up a hill I know we shouldn’t attempt, but I’m never one to duck out of a challenge.

“I think Martin is very lucky he has good lawyers. Meat too.”

We start to descend, but the burning has already started in my ears and has traveled down my neck.

“So you agree with my dad?”

“That you should cozy up to more than one boy? Hell yes!”