Chapter 9

[Last time on ADKOU: Sutton and Ada became friends again, deciding they would 'go slowly' with their dynamic; the Cyntera crew went out to Happy Hour and Sutton and Ada had fun laughing together; Ada invited Sutton out to lunch on Saturday; at the end of lunch, Ada invited Sutton over to her apartment.]

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Ada lived in a modest apartment building right in the heart of Midtown. Sutton tailgated her into the complex's parking garage, where Ada braked and pointed out her car window to a slew of spaces marked GUEST. Sutton pulled into one of them with ease.

"Come this way!" Ada called when Sutton stepped out of her car. Sutton walked to meet her, watching her pick at the keys on her keychain.

They rode up the elevator together. Sutton thought how funny it was that they had ridden in the work elevator together many times now, but this elevator ride was so much different.

"Seventh floor, huh?" Sutton asked when the doors opened.

"Seventh heaven."

"You hated that show."

"It was embarrassingly cheesy," Ada said, her nose wrinkled. "I still don't get why you liked it."

Sutton stood aside while Ada worked her key in the lock, and then Ada pushed the door open and Sutton was looking into her apartment, into the place Ada now called home.

"Don't just assess it from the doorway," Ada smiled. "Come inside."

The kitchen was spotless. The dishtowels and oven mitts were color coordinated in the same sky blue shade. The hand soap near the sink was one of those big artisanal bottles Sutton had always associated with urban professionals.

"Your kitchen is, like, perfect," Sutton blurted.

Ada laughed as she dropped her bag onto the counter. "No thanks to my roommate. She's a total slob."

Sutton looked around. "Where is she?"

"Probably out thrifting. She collects old records even though we don't have a record player and then she stacks them all on our kitchen table and doesn't move them for days."

"Not that you're annoyed by that."

"Not at all."

"You have almost as many Save-the-Dates on your fridge as I do."

"Your parents are letting you keep them on the fridge?"

"I mean, no, I keep them in my room, but you know what I mean. If I get one more Save-the-Date I'm gonna burn it."

"Some of these are Linda's," Ada said, adjusting the magnets on the fridge. "I swear she gets invited to a new wedding every week. For some reason she loves it. Anyway, come on, my room's over here."

Ada's bedroom was everything and nothing like Sutton expected. Though her childhood bedroom had been saturated with picture collages and music posters, the visual elements in this room were spare. Sutton's eyes roved over the few frames: a picture of Ada's parents, where they are young and vacationing at Niagara Falls, both of them wearing big, exuberant smiles, their teeth showing like they are about to bite on air; one of Ada's grandma--her dad's mom--sitting in a reclining chair and smiling directly at the camera; one of Ada's old family dog, West, who had since died; and one of Ada with friends Sutton didn't know, Ada shining in the middle, all of them laughing around her.

"Are these your college friends?" Sutton asked, picking up the picture frame.

Ada came to stand beside her. "Mhm. That's Laura," she said, tapping the frame, "she was my roommate. She lives in Austin now. Kara was our other best friend. See her shirt? We made those for our flag football team sophomore year. That's Antone, he was Kara's boyfriend and he was a business major too so we had some classes together. That's Lauren--"

"Wait, you had a Laura and a Lauren?"

"Yeah, it got really confusing when we were drunk. Kara and I used to call them 'the Laur's.'"

"Ridiculous."

"I know." Ada pulled her lips into her mouth before speaking again. Her eyes stayed on the picture. "And that's Nick. He was my boyfriend junior and senior year."

Sutton's heart clamped, even though she knew, from Facebook and hearsay, that Ada had seriously dated someone in college. "What happened?"

Ada shrugged one shoulder. "We moved to different places after graduation. Tried long distance but it didn't work."

"Do you still talk to him?"

"I do," Ada nodded. "But that's mostly because we have the same friends. We're long over. He's been dating someone pretty seriously for the last year."

"And--you're okay with that?"

Ada glanced briefly at Sutton. "I have been for a while. I've dated other people since we broke up, anyway."

Sutton wanted to ask more questions, but she swallowed them down. Things were still too delicate to be talking about previous significant others.

She placed the picture frame back on Ada's dresser and swept her eyes over the rest of the room, looking for any additional pictures, just in case, just in case, just in case--but of course there were none. Her chest ached with a dull pain, but she ignored it and stepped silently, carefully, through the rest of Ada's room, absorbing every minute aspect of it, every clue as to who Ada was now.

"You like incense?" Sutton asked, hovering in front of the bookshelf.

"I went through a phase," Ada said, rolling her eyes at herself. "But it smells so good."

Her bookshelf was mostly full of old college textbooks - accounting, finance, other business major staples. But there were fiction books, too. David Sedaris, Dave Eggers, a couple of Toni Morrison tomes. Sutton trailed her fingers over their spines.

Her queen-sized bed was made, the decorative beige pillows positioned perfectly over the comforter. Sutton stared at it, wondering who had last slept in it with Ada, before she caught herself and realized she needed to look away.

There was a mug on her nightstand with a teabag stem drooping over the side. One of her GMAT study books lay next to it, a highlighter sticking out from between the pages. A pile of mail was stacked on the floor next to the nightstand. Sutton glanced at the letter on top and saw the return address of Ada's college.

The closet was bursting with clothes and shoes and handbags it could not accommodate. There was one lone t-shirt strewn over a desk chair: Sutton recognized it as an old Chicago White Sox shirt Ada had had since high school.

"What's the assessment?" Ada asked.

Sutton turned around to find Ada watching her. Her expression was hesitant, guarded.

"I like it," Sutton said, giving her a small smile. "It's new, but it's still you."

Ada's mouth twitched. She moved her jaw to the right and said, brushing past Sutton, "That's how it is with you, too. New, but you."

"Sounds like an ad campaign."

"Yeah," Ada laughed, picking off her wedge sandals, "the campaign for us to be us again."

It was weird, this sweet, tender pain between them. The way a bruise felt when it was a full day past the initial injury but still had mysterious healing time ahead of it.

Sutton wasn't sure what to do or say next. She wanted to plop down on Ada's bed like she used to do in high school, but that didn't feel okay yet. Ada clearly didn't know what to do either: she had started flitting around the room, straightening things that didn't need to be straightened.

Sutton's attention landed on a pair of running shoes sticking out of Ada's closet, and an idea came to her.

"Ade."

"Yeah," Ada said, refolding a pair of shorts.

"Do you want to go for a run?"

"What?"

"Like when we did cross-country? You still run, don't you?"

"Yeah..."

"I have my running shoes in the car."

Ada's brow knitted in. "That's really what you want to do?"

Sutton shrugged. "It's something."

It felt better to have a plan of action, one that kept them moving rather than standing paralyzed with seven lost years hovering between them. Sutton fetched her Aasics from the car and borrowed running shorts and a t-shirt from Ada. (The t-shirt smelled like her; Sutton breathed in the scent as she pulled it over her head in the bathroom.) They stretched without speaking, tied their hair back without looking at each other. Ada locked her apartment door, they took the elevator down to the garage, and they ran.

Sutton chased Ada down the sidewalk, past doctors and nurses in scrubs, past nannies pushing strollers, past college kids with backpacks and headphones, all of them going about their lives in the nucleus of Atlanta. Ada skirted past them with ease and Sutton struggled to do the same, wondering how many times Ada had run this route before. She didn't know how anyone could enjoy running when it entailed weaving between all these people, but after another minute and an abrupt left turn, Sutton found herself following Ada into Piedmont Park, an expanse of green fields and curving running paths breaking up the congested feel of the city.

They only ran a couple of miles. It was hot and Sutton knew they were both weighed down from lunch. Still, it was the perfect run: Sutton's thoughts fell away and all she focused on was the path ahead and the pounding of her heart. The sweat leaked out of her glands and hovered on her skin, and she experienced the satisfying feeling of purging the bad things, of detoxifying her heart and liver and stomach. Ada ran in step with her, a shimmer of movement in Sutton's peripheral vision, her breaths loud and unfiltered--running had always been the truest time she let her guard down.

Ada sprinted ahead when they came in sight of the two-mile mark. Sutton continued at the same pace and watched Ada's long legs kick against the pavement.

By the time Sutton crossed the mile marker, Ada was walking in circles with her arms above her head, her small biceps catching the light of the sun. Sutton doubled over, rested her hands on her knees, and let a few droplets of sweat fall from her forehead. She and Ada were both heaving and panting, waiting for their hearts to slow.

Sutton stepped off the pavement and onto the earth, and Ada trailed after her. They leaned against a pair of trees that faced each other. The bark was satisfyingly rigid at Sutton's back. She breathed in grass and dirt and tree leaves, let her sweat pool at her temples and the back of her neck.

"We made good time," Ada panted, checking her watch.

"Do you feel good?"

Ada nodded, her breaths still coming hard. "Do you?"

"Yeah. You don't make me nervous when I'm running next to you."

She had meant it as a joke, but Ada's expression stayed serious. She blinked at Sutton like something bigger was at stake.

"What?" Sutton panted, nervous.

Ada took three long strides toward her, and before Sutton could take another breath, Ada had wrapped her in a fierce hug.

Sutton's heart sprung. "Everything okay?" she said, trying to sound casual.

Ada didn't answer right away. She breathed in and out, her back rising and falling under Sutton's arms. "Just missed you."

Sutton's limbs relaxed. She melted into the hug and let her body meet Ada's. They were both still breathing faster than normal and they smelled like sweat and outdoors. Sutton scratched her fingers up and down the back of Ada's t-shirt, felt her damp temple pressing against Ada's.

After a minute, when their breathing had calmed, Ada stepped back.

"Sorry," she said, her smile shy. "Didn't mean to attack you like that."

"I'm glad you did," Sutton said, brushing her fingers against the frizzy wisps of hair at Ada's temple.

Ada's eyes went to Sutton's mouth for a lightning-quick second, but then she blinked and pulled away.

"Let's go back," she said. "I need some water."

They stood by the sink in Ada's kitchen, chugging ice-cold water from Sweetwater pint glasses. Sutton watched Ada's throat pulse, her neck still glistening with sweat.

"Do you want to shower?" Ada asked.

Sutton flushed. "What?"

Ada's expression showed a half-second of embarrassment before she hastily laughed and said, "Um, not like - I meant, did you want to use my shower? By yourself?"

Sutton broke into nervous laughter. Neither one of them looked at each other, but Ada shook her head and laughed in a free way, like she knew how funny this story would be later.

"Um," Sutton said, steadying her laughter. "That's okay. I'd have to put this sweaty bra back on afterwards, so there's no point."

"I'd let you borrow one of mine, but I don't think we're the same size."

"We haven't been the same size since ninth grade," Sutton laughed.

"Yeah, when you started busting out of your P.E. shirt. Literally busting."

"Shut up."

"Remember how your mom tried to custom order your bras?"

"Remember how she did custom order some but I snuck out to Victoria's Secret with you and your mom anyway?"

"And my mom yelled at me because I wanted to buy a thong. You remember what she used to say about thongs?"

"That they were worse than medieval torture devices."

Ada laughed in surprise. "You actually remember that?"

"How do you forget a description like that? I still share that with people."

Ada's eyes were bright. She shook her head and leaned back against the sink, cradling her empty water glass in her palms.

"What?" Sutton said, her laughter suddenly still.

"Nothing. I just - this is so surreal."

They stood without speaking, awkwardly shying away from each other.

“I should get going,” Sutton said, grabbing her purse off the counter. “I have to run to Petco for Wilson Phillips."

"I'll walk you out," Ada nodded.

"Thanks. Just let me grab my clothes and change—"

“No, don’t worry about it. You can give those back to me later.”

“You sure?”

“Of course. I know where you live, remember?”

Sutton led the way out of the apartment, her tired muscles starting to weigh her down. Ada stepped out behind her and they walked without speaking to the elevator.

"Thanks for lunch," Ada said as the elevator hummed down to the garage. She stood with her arms crossed over her workout tank, her elbow lightly brushing against Sutton's.

"You're welcome. Thanks for inviting me over. And for the water."

Ada broke into a smile. "You're thanking me for water?"

Sutton smiled back. "I guess I am."

They walked through the garage and over to Sutton's car. Sutton hovered by the trunk, running her thumb along the ridge of her keys.

"It was a really fun day," she told Ada.

"It was," Ada agreed, her voice sounding the way it had sounded in high school.

They stared at each other while silence and space built between them. Sutton looked impulsively at Ada's mouth, then jerked her eyes away.

"I--will see you on Monday," Sutton said, bouncing in her running shoes.

"Drive safely," Ada said.

"I will."

They hesitated for a half-second, and Sutton had the overwhelming feeling that something might happen, but then Ada laughed a trickling little laugh, leaned forward, and gave her a hug. "Thanks for coming."

Sutton smiled against her shoulder. "Thanks for having me."

Sutton knew her mom would ask where she had been all day, so her mind ran through possible answers on the drive home. She was running errands? She was working out? (That was partially true.) She was hanging out with a coworker? But if she admitted to hanging out with a coworker, that would lead to more questions about this coworker, and Sutton didn't know how much longer she could resist telling her mom about Ada. Why was she resisting telling her anyway?

By the time she pulled into the driveway 35 minutes later, she still hadn't decided whether or not to tell her mom the truth. But when she opened the garage and stepped into her parents' house, no one was home. Her mom's car was in the garage, but both her parents were gone, which had to mean they had gone out together in her dad's car. That hadn't happened since Sutton had been in high school.

"When have you ever known your grandparents to go out together?" she asked Wilson Phillips, but WP yawned and clawed at the carpet and never gave an answer.

At work on Monday they celebrated On-Delay's birthday. Holly-Ann sent around an e-mail informing everyone there would be cupcakes in the break room at two o'clock that afternoon. As a friendly reminder, please limit yourself to one cupcake! the post-script said.

"That's directed at Javier," Wyatt told Sutton. "He ate three cupcakes when we did my birthday, and Holly-Ann threw a bitch fit because she didn't get one."

"I would have thrown a bitch fit, too," Sutton said.

"Javi felt bad when he realized it. Tried to give Holly-Ann the half he hadn't eaten, but of course she wouldn't take it. Debbie swears she saw saliva dangling off it."

"That's disgusting, don't tell me that."

"Just passing on the workplace lore."

At 1:55, Sutton and Wyatt pushed back from their desks and slumped their way to the break room, where a few people had already gathered. Holly-Ann hovered over a tulip-pink box and shot apprehensive looks at Javier, who stood in the corner and ignored her.

Ada and Debbie trickled in together. Ada caught Sutton's eye and came to stand next to her, her hands tucked into the pockets of her satin work dress.

"First office birthday you've been here for," Ada noted.

"Too bad I didn't start in June," Sutton said. "You and I could have had a joint birthday celebration."

"Absolutely not. We have to take every excuse for cupcakes we can get. And the third and the 17th aren't even close to each other."

Sutton had to stifle her smile. She'd figured Ada would still know her birthday--how could she not, when they were exactly two weeks apart?--but it still felt sweet, and tender, and bone-warming to hear her say it.

On-Delay walked into the lounge and pretended to be surprised when he saw them all there--at least, that's what Sutton assumed he was going for, given how he slowly raised his eyebrows.

"Happy birthday, Craig!" Holly-Ann cheered. She began to clap and the rest of them instantly joined in, and their clapping then morphed into an awkward group version of the "Happy Birthday" song. Nearly everyone sang off-key but Sutton found the whole gesture strangely moving.

They finished the song and a few people clapped tepidly. On-Delay looked around briefly, his expression impassive, and then the corners of his mouth twitched the slightest bit and he murmured "Thank you very much" to the floor.

Holly-Ann insisted on passing out the cupcakes herself (she was still eyeing Javier like a mother bird protecting its eggs), so the rest of them grabbed Coca-Colas and Sprites from the fridge and dissolved into smaller pairs of conversation, with Holly-Ann shouting "SEA-SALT CARAMEL OR RED VELVET?" to one person at a time.

"So is this it?" Sutton asked Ada in-between bites of her white chocolate cupcake. "We sing 'Happy Birthday' to the person and then we eat sugar?"

"Once in a while there's a party game," Ada said, licking icing off her thumb. "My favorite is when we role play The Hunger Games and go at each other with javelins."

Sutton stared her down until Ada began to laugh.

"What were you expecting?" Ada said. "It's an office birthday party. They're notoriously lame."

"Summer after 1L," Sutton said, picking at her cupcake, "I worked for this firm in Nashville. Three people had birthdays while I was there. And every time, the partners turned off all the lights and turned on this strobe light, and there was a disco ball hanging from the ceiling, and we all had to dance at our desks to whatever song the birthday person had picked."

"Are you serious?"

"One of them, she was this older lady, chose 'E.T.' by Katy Perry. I swear I had an out-of-body experience that day."

"You're shitting me."

"I'm dead serious."

Ada's smile spread across her face. "That's amazing. I'm picturing it right now. It's even funnier because I know what a bad dancer you are."

"Shut up," Sutton said, swatting her arm.

"Team!" Marta called, her voice rising over everyone's chatter. "I have some news to share while you're all here together!"

All conversation fell away until the only sound was the humming of the refrigerator. Marta looked serenely around at them and said, without preamble, "We've officially acquired the company in Florida."

Sutton joined in with the applause. Ada looked particularly excited, her eyes shining and her smile unchecked.

"It's a big moment for Cyntera," Marta continued. "The board is revved and ready to go. I've assured all parties that this team right here, the people in this room, are the best patchwork of people we could have behind us. I want to thank all of you for contributing to Cyntera, and I'd like us to especially acknowledge Ada, Wyatt, and Debbie for their role in clinching this acquisition."

Sutton clapped even harder. There was a surge in her chest and it flowed through her arms and down to her palms. Ada was grinning shyly now, hardly daring to look anyone in the eye, but there was no mistaking the pride on her face.

"You're awesome," Sutton told her, not caring who heard.

Ada's eyes connected with hers, and Sutton wanted to tell her again and again and again.

On Tuesday they had a long team meeting about the ins and outs of the acquisition. Javier earned a reprimand from Marta when he pointed a laser at Mikey P.'s forehead in the middle of a presentation. ("The ferrets like it," he muttered under his breath.) On Wednesday Marta traveled down to Boca Raton to visit the new company, which meant everyone in the office went about their work more slowly and Debbie and Wyatt spent most of the day flirting in the legal nook, much to Sutton's annoyance. Sutton took respite in the sales hub, where Ada treated her to an excited explanation of how the new company's business model would be absorbed into Cyntera's.

"Wow," Sutton interrupted her.

"What?" Ada said, almost breathless.

"It just occurred to me that all this time, we thought I was the nerd of the two of us--but it's actually you."

"Shut up," Ada laughed, spinning her chair back around.

On Thursday, Sutton worked late, suddenly overwhelmed by acquisition paperwork. Wyatt toiled alongside her, his hair getting increasingly messier. Marta stayed with them, arguing with one of the board members on the phone. Sutton and Wyatt only heard the first part of her conversation before she shut the door to her office, but she looked up at them through her window every so often, as if something was wrong.

It was close to 7:30 PM when Sutton finally got home. She dragged herself into the house to find a strange sight before her: both her parents sitting at the kitchen table, a hot meal spread out before them, their body language anxious, like they had been waiting for her.

"What's going on?" Sutton asked, dropping her workbag.

Her mom coaxed her into sitting down. Her dad insisted on pouring her some wine. And when she was finally settled with a hot plate of eggplant parmesan and a full glass of wine in front of her, her mom explained.

"Your dad and I went to see our attorney on Saturday," she said, her lined face showing no emotion. "We've been going to see her for a couple of months now, actually."

"Why?"

Her mom dropped the news in a sterile, matter-of-fact way. "We're getting divorced."