Jill was a voice of reason, speaking peace into my chaotic storm of growing feelings for Davin. She listened and observed and told me candidly that she could tell there was indeed “something” between us. As to what that something was, however, she confessed she was as ignorant as I. “The thing is,” she sighed, “guys think they’re really basic and easy to understand. But we, at least, are complex, and so we complicate everything by overthinking, and miss entirely what they are trying to say.” I had to agree with her there.
Walking back to Mercy after dinner one night, we stopped to check our dorm mail boxes before parting ways. Nothing of personal significance ever seemed to find its way in those tiny slots; it was mostly notices from the school and flyers about club meetings, stuff like that. But on that day when I reached in, I pulled out a promising-looking little envelope.
“Oh! You got a card!” Jill smiled.
I was about to say that it was more likely to be for Nicki when I flipped it over and saw my own name scrawled across it. Well, sort of: it was addressed to Dr. Fisher, and my heart fluttered. Who but Davin called me that?
I opened the envelope and pulled out the card while Jill looked on curiously. It was one of those nature scenes that you can get in packs of like twenty-five that are either blank on the inside, or pre-printed with things like “Thanks so much!” or, “Get Well Soon!” I flipped it open and my eyes went straight to the bottom. It was signed, Davin Adam Kowalski.
I closed the card without reading the rest and (rather melodramatically) pressed it to my chest. “From Davin,” I sighed. Jill raised an eyebrow, and I then tried to act as if it was no big deal. “I’ll read it later,” I said, hoping I sounded casual. She nodded, smiled knowingly, and we parted ways to go to the opposite ends of our dorm.
Back in my room, I was relieved to find that that Nicki was out. I sat on my bed and hungrily read the card.
“Dear Anna,” I could hear him say,
“It feels like forever ago that we watched TV in your dorm, drove around town, or even just sat and had a good conversation. I know you probably get tired of hearing me apologize for being so bus, but you med students understand a full schedule, right? (Kidding.)
“Anyway, I just wanted you to know I miss our chats...and I miss your band-aids, believe it or not. But who knows, maybe the profs will ease up soon and we’ll get to have asocial life again. Or maybe we’ll run into each other during Spring Break? Will you be around? Call me sometime (though I’m a lousy phone person, sorry!) and maybe we can catch up. Hope to talk to you soon, Friend.
Davin Adam Kowalski”
I closed the card and sighed. I felt…confused. I appreciated everything he said, but I guess, in the back of my mind, I had been longing for something more concrete. I wanted him to consider me more than just a “friend.” And I’d been hoping for some kind of clue or sign of that in the card. If it was there, I couldn’t tell for sure. All I could tell was that he wanted to hang out. And things don’t get more vague than that.
I shook my head. Spring Break. I didn’t know what I was doing yet. It was only a couple weeks away, but I’d had offers to go home with Jill, and also possibly visit a friend in Virginia. Suddenly I was torn. But did I really want to give up a chance to get away for a week, and to have that vital, soul-feeding time that comes from good girl-bonding? Just for a guy…who only saw me as a friend?
I put off getting in touch with Davin for a few days. I needed to think things over first. I went to Jill’s room rather late one night; I liked her roommate Lindsey, but I was glad she wasn’t there so I could talk freely, and we ended up talking for hours.
“The thing is,” I told her, “I almost feel like there could be something more there. But I’ve been wrong before. And he’s definitely not hinting at anything more.”
“Did he ever say whether that day you spent in Pittsburgh was really a date or not?”
“No.” I shook my head. “That’s just it. If it really had been, he would have said something. Right?”
Jill shrugged, her auburn hair sliding over one shoulder. “I don’t know. Guys can be so complicated. You think you know exactly what they’re thinking, and then it turns out you were completely wrong. ‘Course, it’s the same for them.”
I let my eyes slide over all the artsy, black and white photo posters she had on her side of the room. There was something comforting in their gray tones and soft lines. There were a few of Europe I really liked, but at the moment my eyes lingered on a photo of a man and a woman embracing.
She followed my gaze, then looked back at me, her green eyes questioning. “I thought you weren’t sure if you liked him or not.”
I frowned. “I know. But…I realized I might have some feelings for him. It’s just that I’m all confused. I don’t want to be the kind of girl who falls for a guy just because she thinks he needs her and that she can help him. It’s more than that, I think. Because he really is a good guy. And he’s sweet. And unexpectedly funny. He just…”
“Keeps leaving you hanging.”
“Yeah.” I sighed. “I don’t know.” I was quiet for a moment, my thoughts continuing only in my head until they burst out again. “That’s the other thing. He’s got some big secret.”
My friend looked surprised. “Secret?”
“Well…something like that. He’s so mysterious. There’s something that he’s just not honest about. I mean, he—he’s got something going on in his life, something he doesn’t want to tell other people, something that gets in the way of his friendships. Including ours.” I gave her a few examples of his erratic behavior. “…And he’ll just leave, without any explanation.”
“Weird.” She looked thoughtful. “What do you think it is?”
I looked at the ceiling, as though it would provide inspiration. “Who knows. Maybe he’s depressed, or self-abusive. Is that a thing?”
“You mean, like, he cuts himself?”
I shrugged. “Maybe, something like that. Or maybe it’s drugs, or some other addiction.”
“Maybe he’s not a junkie. Maybe he’s a dealer,” she offered.
I made a face and shook my head.
“Or,” Jill continued, suddenly sounding dramatic, “maybe he’s secretly married. Only they can’t tell anyone because then they’d have to live together and lose their cheap rooms on campus.”
I laughed at her unlikely suggestion. “Or maybe he’s a secret agent.”
“Or in the witness protection program!”
We were both laughing by then. “Or a superhero,” I threw in.
“Yeah, like that Dark Lightning guy.”
I giggled at her statement, then fell silent. I’d been kidding when I said superhero, and hadn’t thought of Dark Lightning at all until she said it. We were joking, of course; but once the idea was out there, it had lodged in my brain. Hadn’t I once briefly considered the possibility of him being Shadowman?
“No—I’ve got it,” Jill announced, interrupting my musing. “He’s a vampire.” I laughed again, feeling there was no end to the outrageous, ridiculous excuses we were coming up with. “Seriously, it makes sense. He’s always tired and pale, and keeps himself away from people so he won’t bite them....Maybe that’s what he’s doing when he disappears. Getting his fix of blood.”
“Ew.” I laughed her silly suggestion off. “That’s gross.”
“Okay, maybe not a vampire. But you have to admit, his behavior is pretty shady. It stands to reason that if he’s trying to keep it a secret, then it’s probably something bad—illegal, or immoral. Or both.”
I frowned. “Yeah, that’s a good point. I mean, he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who would do anything really bad, but I guess I don’t know him all that well.”
“Also, you already kind of like him.” She looked at me. “So, what do you think it is?”
“I really don’t know,” I confessed. “In my Intro Science class—”
“You mean ‘Our Changing Univer
se?’” Jill rolled her eyes at the title.
“That’s the one. Anyway, we talked about this thing called Occam’s Razor, which basically just means the simplest explanation is best.”
“Oh, yeah, I kind of remember that. So, what do you think it is in Davin’s case?”
I sighed. “I guess the simplest explanation would be that he’s just still dealing with his sister’s death. I think it really messed him up. That could explain the depression, and account for his erratic behavior. But I don’t know what the answer is for sure.”
“I like my vampire idea better.”
I laughed. “Well, maybe they should come up with a new principle. Hanschu’s Treatise: the most ridiculous, interesting, and far-fetched idea is best.”
She laughed. “Hanschu’s Treatise, huh? Not bad. Though I was thinking more along the lines of the Sherlock Holmes maxim: ‘When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.’”
“Well, I don’t think I’ve eliminated anything yet… except the vampire idea,” I laughed, and then yawned and glanced at her clock. It was after two. “I guess I should let you get to bed.”
“Let me get to bed? Hey, if you need to go, just say so. I won’t stop you. My door’s always open.”
I stood and hugged her. “Thanks, Jill. I appreciate that. And thanks for letting me come over and spill my guts.”
“No problem,” she replied. “That’s what friends are for. But are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah,” I replied confidently. I was. Mostly. “I’m just tired, and I have a lot on my mind. But I’m fine.”
“All right. I’ll see you at dinner tomorrow then.”
I walked to my room and entered as quietly as possible. It was too dark to see after I closed the door, but I managed to find my way to bed. I set my alarm, groaning softly about the few hours of sleep I’d be getting. Yet then I lay there, unable to sleep.
My mind wandered back to our silly conversation, and I let myself consider some of our crazy suggestions. None of them seemed likely. But the idea of him being a superhero was still stuck in my head. It was a ridiculous thought, and I knew it. Hadn’t I already ruled it out? He was just a college kid. A sad, messed-up guy who was too busy and too depressed to help anyone. He could barely help himself. Besides, he didn’t even like Dark Lightning. Or people in general, for that matter. His generally brooding and sullen exterior was more suited to an anti-hero, or a villain.
That thought troubled me. Davin a villain? I didn’t like the idea at all. Still, I couldn’t deny that Jill was right about his shady behavior. What if he really did have a dark secret? As much as I wanted to believe he was good, what if I was wrong? The way I’d been with Emily? It hurt my head and my heart to even think that about him for a moment, but since I was having trouble coming up with any other rational arguments, the tiny doubt was also lodged in my brain.
Villain, or hero? I shook my head into the darkness. No. Davin was a lot of things, but I couldn’t see him as either one. He was a weird, complex, troubled guy, but that was all. Before I drifted off to sleep, I firmly told myself to stop jumping to conclusions and remember that he was, if nothing else, my friend. A friend I cared about, more than I wanted to admit.
Chapter Ten
“The affections are like lightning:
you cannot tell where they will strike
till they have fallen.”
—Jean Baptiste Lacoraire
As I left my dorm the next morning, there was a sign posted on the door: REMINDER: ONLY STUDENTS WITH AUTHORIZED ID CARDS MAY ENTER THIS DORM. DO NOT LET ANYONE IN WIHTOUT AN ID CARD. Below that, at the bottom, it read Mandatory Housing Meeting tonight at seven. ALL RESIDENTS MUST ATTEND.
I frowned, annoyed and somewhat puzzled. Mandatory meeting? Just what I needed. I’d been told such meetings were normally restricted to the beginning of each semester, to go over rules and events. I’d only been to two, and already I found them tedious. I wondered what had happened to make them call one mid-semester…perhaps some sort of infestation of bugs or mice? I shuddered.
Hustling to class, I noticed there was a kind of grim aura about the students I passed. Several groups were clustered together, talking in low voices and looking serious. At least one group of girls looked distraught and possibly in tears. I began to worry. Had something happened? Maybe someone—an elder member of staff, perhaps—died?
Whatever was going on, my Comp I teacher either didn’t know, or didn’t feel like discussing it. So my curiosity remained unsatisfied until I got to lunch. Since Jill had an eleven o’clock class on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I often ate with the Comic Book Club. When I finished going through the line and got to their table, I saw that they, too were crowded together, murmuring in low voices.
As I set my tray down, I heard a breathless voice behind me say, “Hey, Anna!” Next to me, Sputnik, my wiry redheaded friend, plopped down. “Hey, guys.” He settled in, oblivious to the somber atmosphere. “Hey, where’s Pete?” he asked, his mouth full as he dug into his sandwich. “I need to ask him how he got past that one level of ‘Battlefront 3000.’”
They guys all stopped murmuring and looked at him. “What?” Sputnik froze and swallowed hard. “Do I have something on my face?” He reached a hand up to feel his freckled visage.
Several guys exchanged glances before Paul, a large but shy senior, spoke up. “Didn’t you hear? His girlfriend was the latest victim.”
“Victim?” Sputnik sputtered, nearly choking. I was confused, too.
“Yeah...” Paul looked at our expectant faces bemusedly. “Haven’t you guys heard about the attacks?” When we shook our heads, he continued, “Apparently there’s this guy who’s been following girls into their dorm rooms and attacking them. Last night, it happened to Pete’s girlfriend, Alisha.”
A chill went down my spine. “It happened here?” I clarified. “At WPC?” I used the full initials for emphasis. Paul nodded.
“Apparently it’s happened at Pitt and a couple other schools downtown,” Alan spoke up, and I did vaguely recall hearing about it on the news, around New Year’s. “But that was a few months ago. Hey, what are they calling this guy again?”
“The Hallway Stalker,” Paul informed us. “So far, only two Dubsy girls have reported the attacks. One girl lived in Magdalene, and Alisha lived in Mitchell.” Magdalene was the one coed dorm, and Mitchell was the other women’s dorm at Dubsy.
“And they haven’t caught the guy yet?” Sputnik demanded.
Paul shook his head. “They barely even have a description of him.”
“Don’t you find it odd,” a cool voice spoke up from the other end of the table, “that we have a hero here in our city, and yet, when young, innocent girls are attacked right here, he does nothing about it?”
“What are you suggesting, Greg?” Alan asked, narrowing his eyes. My own jaw tightened as well.
“I’m just pointing out that it’s rather suspicious,” he shrugged. “For all we know, Dark Lightning could be perpetrating the crimes himself, which is why he’s never been caught. After all, aren’t the descriptions eerily similar? Dressed in black, masked, elusive….”
“You cannot be serious.” I was livid with Gregory for even making such a suggestion.
“I’m pretty sure it would be easy enough to verify,” Alan said calmly. “We could just cross-reference the dates and times of the attacks with the reported activities of Dark Lightning. After all, he can’t be in two places at once.” Alan, Sputnik and I all turned to see Greg’s reaction.
Gregory clenched his jaw, clearly annoyed by Alan’s quick logic. “Fine. Let me posit an alternate scenario: from my research, I’ve deduced that it’s quite likely Dark Lightning is young, probably no more than college-aged. He might even be a student here, or at one of the other universities. What kind of superhero lets girls get attacked in his own home?”
“You don’t know this is his home,” Sputnik snapped. “Or that he’s in
college. Just because you’re good at percentages doesn’t mean—”
Gregory leveled his gaze at the energetic redhead. “Oh, I’m pretty sure I’m right about this. I’ve been thorough in my calculations and in my hypotheses, and—”
“That doesn’t even matter,” I interrupted angrily. “You can’t expect someone like that to be everywhere at once. If he didn’t help those girls, I’m sure he had a good reason.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Is that what you’ll tell yourself when it happens to you?”
I sat back abruptly, as if he’d slapped me.
“Gregory!” Alan intervened sharply. “What’s wrong with you? Don’t scare her like that!” To me he said, “Don’t listen to him. I’m sure they’re beefing up security and you have nothing to worry about.”
I nodded vaguely.
Gregory shrugged again, in that cool and impartial manner he had. “I’m sure he’s right. And if for some reason Campus Security fails, you can always hope for your beloved hero to save you.”
I just glared at him.
“If I was a hero,” Sputnik murmured, breaking the silence, “and you were in trouble, I’d definitely go out of my way to save you.”
We all looked at him in surprise. His eyes got wide. “Did I say that out loud?”
Alan started laughing, and Sputnik turned redder than his hair. “Crap.” He avoided my eyes. “Forget I said anything, okay?”
I smiled gently. “It’s okay, Sputnik. I’d accept your help anytime.” I meant it, but I also meant to give my words a bit of an edge, directed at Greg. If he got it, it didn’t show; he was already walking away.
It was an equally grim scene at the Mercy mandatory meeting. Sandy, our normally cheerful and motherly hall director, was grave and stern as she talked about extra security measures. “You are to have your ID badges with you at all times,” she insisted. “Never let anyone in you don’t recognize, even if you’re just trying to be nice.”
Tall, Dark Streak of Lightning (The Dark Lightning Trilogy) Page 11