by Kim Harrison
“Excuse me,” the woman called to a student passing on a hoverboard that didn’t live up to its name. “Do you know where the language arts building is? Hello?” she added sarcastically, her high voice holding an unfamiliar accent when the kid kept going, ignoring her.
“Not today, huh?” Slim hand on a narrow hip, she watched him vanish down the tree-lined sidewalk. “Why are all the cute ones taken or blind?”
Meg’s hands went clammy, and she screwed up her courage. Dr. Jillium expected her to come back with news of having made a friend by next week, and after three hours of relatively anxiety-free class, she’d do anything to not lose access to her new meds. But it was more than that as Meg picked her canvas up and forced herself to the sunny side of the fountain. She wanted real improvement, not simply finding new ways to avoid what made her anxious.
“You, ah, need some help finding your class?” she said, feeling awkward.
The young woman spun. Perfect lips parted in surprise, she looked Meg up and down over her red-rimmed glasses, her gaze lingering on Meg’s necklace, then widening in disbelief at the ankle-length skirt and the long sweater coat.
Meg’s chin lifted at what she thought was disappointment in the back of the young woman’s eyes, and she waited for the lordly assurance that she “didn’t need any help, thanks.” If the woman wanted to stand in the middle of the quad and accost the male student body under the excuse of needing help, it wasn’t Meg’s problem.
But then the woman’s eyes dropped to the canvas, and Meg would have sworn she heard her gasp. “Yes. Yes I do,” she said, her voice fast as she closed the distance between them. Her smile had become real and welcoming, and her tone almost a coaxing persuasion that Meg had never heard directed at her before. “Language arts building?” she added, flashing a brilliant, white-toothed smile. “I’ve got a class later and I want to check out the facilities. My faculty welcome packet didn’t include a map of the campus.”
Teacher, Meg thought, clamping down on the familiar rise of a nameless fear. Her eyes darted to the campus clock, the need to take a pill growing. But she wasn’t going to pop pills in front of this blond goddess who needed her help, and she stilled her jittering foot, telling herself it was her imagination, her mind telling her there’s danger when there wasn’t any. Dr. J wants me to make a new friend, not a pen pal. “You’re staff?” Meg said, forcing a smile. “Me too.” Eyes rolling, she gestured to her dowdy, tree-hugger outfit to try to explain her lack of polish. “In case you can’t tell,” she finished dryly.
But the woman didn’t seem to care anymore, leaning to try to see the canvas. “Is that your work?” she said, staring. “It is absolutely gorgeous.” She took her glasses off, her blue eyes flicking up first to Meg’s artist-themed necklace, then back down to the painting. “Can I see?”
Pride made it easy to ignore her anxiety as she swung her canvas up, the strong sun making the image almost glow.
The water from the fountain chattered, and Meg had a brief thought to move farther away from the spray—until the woman beside her touched the canvas almost reverently. “A painter,” she almost seemed to breathe. “This is amazing work. I’ve never seen anything like it. I don’t know what it is. It’s not minimalist. I’d call it…intuitive, maybe. You’ve left out parts not to define areas as much as to invite the eye to complete them. Oh, this is outstanding.” Putting her glasses back on, she studied the canvas again. “I bet your classes are overflowing.”
Not used to the praise, Meg flushed. “Do you paint?” she asked, and the woman looked at her from over her glasses.
“Me? No.” Letting go of the canvas, she dropped back a step, smiling as if they were old friends. “But I know unique when I see it. I’m a linguist. I’m a guest teacher this semester while some old fart is on sabbatical, and then I’ll be moving on to the next job.”
“Oh.” Meg couldn’t ask for a better friend, one that would satisfy Dr. Jillium, give Meg practice in laying down “positive patterns,” and yet not hang around to the inevitable fall-apart stage. Pulse fast, she let her painting drop to hang at her side, and the woman finally took her eyes off it.
“I’m Haley,” she said, extending her slim hand.
“Meg. I teach alternative oil techniques.” Haley’s nails were exquisitely painted, and Meg felt shabby as she took her hand and gave it a shake. The woman’s grip was cool and light, and almost as soon as they touched, Haley jerked away.
Surprised at the fast motion, Meg froze. “Don’t move,” Haley said, her melodious voice serious as she eyed Meg’s shoulder. “It’s a spider.”
“Oh, God. Get it off,” Meg demanded, her eyes wide as Haley brushed her shoulder and stomped on the pavers.
“I hate spiders,” Haley said, actually shuddering, but she had gotten it off her and killed it, and Meg thought anyone who could do that for a complete stranger was worth getting to know.
“The wind must have shifted.” Meg turned to the fountain, but either the spiders were gone or the silk couldn’t be seen from this angle, and the angel poured her unending vial into the fountain unadorned.
“Wind?” Haley questioned, and Meg set down her canvas to find her phone.
“They were ballooning off the fountain. See? I’m going to make my students paint it on Monday.”
Haley cautiously leaned forward and looked. “Oh. So they were.”
Feeling as if she’d done something wrong, Meg closed her phone out and dropped it in her pocket with her meds. She doesn’t like spiders. Why are you showing her a picture of thousands of them, doofus? “The language arts building is across campus where the old dramatic arts used to be,” Meg said, pointing. “I’m heading home and it’s on the way. I can walk you there.”
Meg winced, thinking she sounded needy even to herself, but Haley was smiling again from behind her dark glasses.
“Would you?” Haley gushed, and Meg picked her canvas up as Haley went to get a large satchel resting in the shadow of the fountain. “Thank you so much. I’m awful with directions. And I’m usually not this clueless, but I was called in with only a week’s notice. I don’t even have a real apartment yet. I hate living out of a suitcase. I don’t even know where the good restaurants are. And to top it off my alarm was set for the wrong time zone and I overslept.” She readjusted the large bag on her shoulder. “That way?” she prompted, and Meg mentally shook herself.
“Yes.” It felt more than odd as Meg took the lead. That this amazingly polished woman didn’t seem to mind that they looked like opposite ends of the cool meter seemed too good to be true, and Meg couldn’t help but notice that Haley met every person’s eye as if proud to be walking beside her.
Haley was everything Meg wasn’t: bubbly, outgoing, dressed for success with her gold jewelry flashing in the sun and her dark glasses this year’s style. Her steps matched Meg’s exactly as if they were long-time friends, and her heels clicked smartly on the sidewalk to pull attention to them both. Her makeup made her face seem to glow when she looked up at the passing oaks and asked if Meg knew how long they had been growing. Even the woman’s hair was fabulous as it lifted in the slight breeze, like spun gold even in the shade, nothing like Meg’s annoying curls that couldn’t even be brushed lest they poof out.
Haley was the popular girl grown up into success, and Meg slowed their fast pace as she found herself reluctant to find the sidewalk’s crossroads where they’d have to part, Haley to her class and Meg to her dark apartment.
“So you’re a guest teacher?” Meg asked when Haley’s ongoing prattle cut off with a sudden yawn. “Where have you taught?”
Haley flushed as if realizing she’d been monopolizing the conversation. “Everywhere,” she said, her attention coming up from the painting. “I like to travel, and my boyfriend’s job can be done anywhere, so we get around. Neither of us want kids, so we have no reason to settle.” Eyes in the oak branches, she played with her gold necklace. It held a string of birds, all clustered together like pearls, and i
t clinked pleasantly.
“How nice,” Meg said, but inside, she was putting herself in the geek spot. Why was this woman even talking to her? Of course she’d have a boyfriend, and how amazingly lucky he had a job that could move as easily as her.
“We spent an entire year in San Francisco,” Haley said, arms swinging freely. “Before that, it was New Orleans. Before that, outside of New York.” She shuddered, her eyes lost behind those dark glasses. “New York was hard,” she admitted. “You’d think it would be easier with so many people about, but no one sees you in a big city. I’m originally from a tiny place up north called Perfection.”
Meg bobbed her head, thinking it must be hard for the popular girl to suddenly be a small fish in a very large pond. Their parting point was just up ahead, and Meg’s pace slowed even more. “Didn’t the university give you a list of apartments?”
“They did.” Haley didn’t seem to notice their slower pace, her face turned to the oaks again. “But I don’t want to get a car if we don’t have to, and I’d like to be near the good restaurants. I don’t cook much, and what Rorry does can’t be called cooking.” Her smile grew stiff in an unshared memory. “I bet you know where to eat.”
The sudden urge to tell Haley about her apartment building vanished. Though within walking distance of the campus, it wasn’t near any restaurants. But the real reason she kept silent was because she was sure her idea of a good meal wasn’t the same as Haley’s.
“I know a few nice spots,” she hedged, surprised that though she felt odd walking beside Haley, there wasn’t a whisper of angst. At all. Even the passing students who noticed them seemed harmless. I should stop wearing such frumpy clothes, she thought as she smiled at the student and his service dog at the edge of the sidewalk.
“Oh, God, slide over,” Haley whispered, grabbing Meg’s arm and bodily shifting her to the far side of the sidewalk.
“He won’t run into us,” Meg said, and Haley shook her head, her grip easing as the dog and his master moved past.
“I’m deathly allergic,” she said, head down to find a wadded-up, creased tissue in her satchel.
But they had reached the crossroad, and Meg scuffed to a halt, her sneakers looking odd against Haley’s bright red heels as the woman pretended to blow her nose. “That’s your building there,” Meg said, pointing, and Haley stared blankly at her for a moment before turning to it, her expression brightening. “I’m going that way,” Meg added, looking the other direction. Desperately hoping that Haley didn’t think she was brushing her off, and she added, “You should talk to campus services. They can at least give you a listing of who’s got available rooms.”
Her expression pinched with gratitude, Haley took Meg’s hand. “Thanks so much, Meg,” she gushed. “It was wonderful to meet you and you were so nice to help me.” Fingers slipping away, she glanced at the canvas between them. “If you’re not doing anything tonight, do you want to get together for dinner? You could show Rorry and me the town, and I wouldn’t have to eat whatever he tries to cook.”
“Tonight?” A surge of panic washed through Meg, and her hand slapped her pocket where the pills lay. She wanted to take one now so she’d have the courage to say yes.
“We could make it a double date,” Haley said brightly, looking like a goddess in the dappled sun making it through the oak leaves. “Bring your boyfriend and we’ll meet at the fountain. I know how to find that!” she said with a laugh. “Around seven thirty, maybe? I’ve got class until seven.”
Meg blinked in consternation. A double date? She’d have to ask Austin. What if he said no?
Misunderstanding, Haley’s expression fell. “You’ve got plans,” she said, somehow sounding vulnerable. “It’s Friday. I shouldn’t have imposed. I just wanted to thank you for being so nice.”
“No, I don’t have any plans,” Meg blurted. I don’t need a pill to say yes. “Seven thirty would be okay, sure.” Her free hand crept up and clutched her necklace to hide her hurting chest. The anxiety wasn’t as bad, but it was back, and Meg could almost cry, afraid that Haley would think she didn’t like her if she said no. She’d have to call Austin and work things out. But a double date would knock out two of Dr. Jillium’s goals in one trying evening. Just a few hours to work through, and then she could relax the rest of the week. I can do this. “I need to ask Austin, though,” she mumbled, and Haley seemed to bounce right back, her smile in place as she tucked her hair behind an ear.
“Fabulous!” Haley hoisted her satchel higher up her shoulder. “We’ll meet you and Austin at the fountain. You’re going to love Rorry. Everyone loves Rorry.” Still smiling, she gave Meg a wave and turned away. Meg could have sworn that her gaze left her canvas last. “Wish me luck finding my room!” she called over her shoulder, steps fast as she strode to the language arts building.
“Luck!” Meg called back, but she didn’t think perfect Haley from Perfection needed any such thing.
Chest tight, Meg turned away. Still standing in the middle of the sidewalk, she fumbled in a near panic to open the vial of pills that Dr. Jillium gave her. Her hands shook as she sifted one into her palm, and breath held, she swallowed it dry.
The snap of the cap going back on was loud, and only now did Meg look up to see if anyone had noticed. But the quad was nearly empty, and Meg dropped the bottle back into her pocket, anxiously waiting for the meds to kick in.
She had said yes. Now all she had to do was convince Austin to come with her and get through the night.
“I can do this,” she said as she headed across campus to her apartment. “I can live without being afraid.”
Four
Phone in hand, Meg stood at the living room window and looked down at the apartment’s parking lot, watching her downstairs neighbor struggle with too many bags of groceries. Frustration had furrowed her brow, frustration in that she couldn’t decide if she should call Austin back or just forget the whole thing. He hadn’t responded to her text this afternoon about wanting to talk to him, and it was getting late. Knowing Austin, he might just show up after work, but the parking spot that the two-room, second-floor apartment had come with was empty, and she nervously spun the ring that Austin had given her around her pinky finger.
The growing likelihood that she might have to go alone and explain why Austin was a no-show left her cold, but the thought of standing Haley up was horrifying. The woman would probably think she was a spaz and never speak to her again. That she had even spoken to her once seemed a miracle.
“Why did I ever say yes to this?” she said, almost oblivious to the TV talking quietly to itself. She didn’t have much to wear that wouldn’t look frumpy beside Haley’s perfection. Worse, she had no clue where to take them. What if she got there and had a panic attack before the bread even came?
A quick movement at the edge of the cars caught her attention, and Meg stiffened when a scruffy dog raced across the parking lot and was gone. It was the same one that had been with that homeless guy who’d yelled at her outside of Dr. Jillium’s, and she frowned. The thought to call the pound came and went; the dog had an owner, even if that owner had no home himself.
The sudden sharp knock at the door shocked through Meg, and she jumped, glancing at her phone for the time before tossing it into her purse and crossing the dimly lit living room. It wouldn’t be Austin. True, he had left, but his things were still here and he’d just walk in.
“Yes?” she said loudly as she tweaked the blah-brown curtains beside the door and looked out at the swarthy man in a simple, dark suit.
“Meg Seton?” the man said, his teeth looking very white against his dark complexion as he smiled. He was holding up a badge, and Meg blanched as she saw he was from the FBI. Oh, God, what did I do?
“Yes. What do you want?” she asked, shrinking away from the window.
“I’m Daniel Hun. I work for the FBI.” The man held his badge right up to the window for a moment before tucking the wallet away and taking out a small tablet. “I’m trying t
o find this man. Goes by the name of Christopher. Have you seen him?”
Meg leaned closer to the window, calmer now that she knew he wasn’t there for her. Not that she’d done anything to warrant the FBI’s attention. The tablet showed a youngish man in his early thirties, clean shaven, his blond hair cut evenly about his ears. He was in a set of scrubs, but the rummy look in his blue eyes said patient, not doctor.
“We suspect he may be in this area,” Daniel said, jerking Meg’s attention back.
“Hang on a sec.” Feeling braver, Meg let the curtain fall and opened the door. She stood in the threshold, to take the offered tablet to get a closer look. It almost looked like the homeless guy. “Maybe,” she said, squinting to give him a scruffy beard and matted hair. “But he was a mess,” she added. “Why do you want him? Is he dangerous?”
Daniel smiled as he took the tablet back. “I’d say he was…erratic, not dangerous. I need to get him back to the hospital.”
Nodding, Meg dropped back a step. “I saw a homeless man that looked like him.”
“Homeless?” Daniel ran a hand through his dark, lightly curling hair as he rocked back on one heel to look behind him at the parking lot. It was beginning to get dark, and the need to get ready to go made Meg fidget.
“With a little dog,” she added. Her hand was on the door, but Daniel pushed forward, his eyes alight.
“That sounds likely,” he said, a faint, unfamiliar accent beginning to show as he got excited. “Where did you see him?”
He was too close, and Meg took a step back. “The other end of the quad, near the old textile building. Look, I’ve got to go. I’m sorry I can’t help you.”
“No, you’ve been very helpful. Thank you.” Daniel retreated to the railing, his smile never dimming. “Let me know if you see him again, will you please?”
Meg hesitated, then took the card he was extending. She’d seen that dog not three seconds before Daniel had knocked on her door. But he hadn’t asked about a dog, only the man. “Are you sure he’s not dangerous?”