Owen flopped down on the couch and stared at the ceiling. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he scrolled through it until he found the text he wanted because apparently he liked torturing himself. He’d been in a shitty mood since he’d gotten the group text from Kristin Sunday afternoon. A group text. Let alone the fact that she didn’t have the decency to call him and she’d texted, she’d included him on a group text. He was just another number she’d added to the recipients for her happy news text. It read:
Hey guys! Just wanted to tell my closest friends I’m engaged! Justin asked me literal minutes ago!!! Had no idea. Thought we were just out for a Sunday afternoon on the boat!
And that was followed by tons of replies from friends wishing the happy couple well. Yeah, well, Owen hadn’t been among them. He wondered if she’d even noticed he hadn’t responded. Justin. So that was Trust Fund Baby’s name. Fucking Justin and his fucking daddy’s yacht.
When the front door banged open, Owen didn’t even move. He just continued staring at the ceiling.
“Man. You know Brynn is pissed as hell at me, right?” Dante’s naturally loud voice boomed out across the room.
“What are you doing up so early?” Owen asked.
“Gym. Had to go early today. I have a business meeting later.”
Owen made a lazy attempt to look in Dante’s direction by turning his head to the side, but Dante wasn’t in his line of sight, so he gave up. “Business meeting? What are you up to now?”
“Big things, my man. Big things. But back to Brynn. She was pretty pissed about getting blown off, you know.”
“Did you tell her I’m damaged goods, that I’m still a little ex-crazy?”
“Yeah, but I don’t think she was buying it. You left the bar with another chick. How’d that go, anyway?” Dante asked. They hadn’t seen much of each other since Saturday night because Dante had spent all day Sunday in the library working on a group project for one of his business classes, and Owen had spent part of the day working and the rest of it moping after he got Kristin’s text. And Monday, Owen had been frantically trying to piece together his paper. He didn’t think he could’ve done it without Marci’s help. That notwithstanding, he hadn’t changed his mind about her since making it up Sunday after getting Kristin’s text. He wasn’t going to chase Marci. Fine. She didn’t want him. Hadn’t he learned his lesson about falling for girls who had no plans to fall for him?
“It went,” Owen said. He couldn’t deny it’d been nice, but they were definitely looking for different things. Time to move on. Away from the ghost of Kristin. Away from the hopeless idea of Marci. “You don’t think Brynn would be interested in a date still, do you?”
“Nah. Probably not. We do need to get you on a date, though.”
“That’s the truth.”
It was quiet for a moment before Dante said, “There is a girl in one of my classes who’s come over a couple times to study. She’d be interested, I think. You probably wouldn’t remember her, but she’s asked about you a few times. Camille.”
“Set it up,” Owen said.
“For when?”
“ASAP,” Owen said. “You have her number?”
“Yeah. You want it?”
“I do.” Owen pulled himself to a sitting position on the couch. Man, he wasn’t going to make it through the day without coffee, a nap, or both. Preferably both. Dante gave him the number, and Owen decided to call this Camille girl before he could change his mind. Phone call, sleep, coffee. If only life could always be that simple.
#
Tyler ran into the apartment Tuesday afternoon and did nothing but several minutes of shrieking and jumping up and down. Marci set the book about the Cold War’s effect on American pop culture she’d been trying to wade through aside and looked up at him. His face was blotched with red as it often was when he got excited about something. After giving him a moment to calm down enough to speak, she walked over and put her hands on his shoulders.
“Tyler. Calm down. Tell me what’s going on.”
He stopped jumping and pressed his fists to his mouth. Then he shook his head and started closed-mouth shrieking from behind his hands. The sound was horrible. Like maybe the sound a small bird being strangled would make.
“Tyler. Focus.”
He dropped his fists from his mouth and put his arms around her. “Callback.” More shrieking. “I got the callback for that guest spot on Falling Back to You!” Falling Back to You was a relatively new sitcom about a man who gets hit by a car and returns to his family as a guardian angel. Marci didn’t think the show had much of a future, and she and Tyler had made fun of it all the time until he got the audition for it.
“Congratulations!” This time when Tyler jumped, she jumped with him.
“It’s just a small thing, and what I really want is to do Broadway, but who knows? Maybe this is how my big break is supposed to start!” Tyler shouted in her ear.
Pulling back a little for the sake of her hearing, Marci said, “Are you kidding? It’s fantastic! I can’t even tell you how happy I am for you.”
“Happy enough to let me borrow your car?” Tyler bit his bottom lip and looked at her in a worried way.
“Of course. When’s the callback?”
“Thursday! You should come with. We could spend a long weekend in New York. It’d be crazy.”
“I wish I could, but I have my kids Thursday nights.” Marci was a teaching assistant, or TA, for one of the big undergrad lecture-style philosophy classes.
Tyler made a face. “Cancel class.”
“Wish I could, but I’m already in enough trouble with Professor Ming.”
“Oh.” Realization dawned on Tyler’s face. Marci had told him what happened with Ming on the day of the coffee debacle. “I guess you can’t cancel that then.”
“Nope, but we should all go to New York for a weekend soon. It’s been so long.”
“Oh, maybe we could stay with Ronnie’s aunt in Trenton. She loves to cook for us, and I do love her pancakes.”
“We’ll talk to Ronnie about it. It’ll be fun.”
Tyler nodded emphatically. “If I get this part, we are going to New York to celebrate.” Cocking his head to the side, he added, “Either that or Miami.”
Marci smiled. “Definitely.”
“Ooh, will you help me rehearse?” Tyler grabbed her hands.
She had a lot of work to do, but he was so excited. There was no way she could turn him down. “Sure.”
“I’ll be right back. Just let me get the script.” Tyler ran off to his room.
Chapter Eight
Thursday night was cold for early October. It was definitely a sign that winter was on the way. Owen resented the weather after the seventy-degree days they’d had all week. He’d gone on a nice, long bike ride yesterday afternoon along the James River that’d helped clear his head a little. Today, he’d been stuck inside most of the day, looking outside at the miserable cold and rainy weather.
He’d missed his regular TA section for his philosophy class Monday night because he’d been trying to get that paper finished in a do or die type situation. His friend, Lil, had suggested that Owen come to her section on Thursday night and ask the TA if he could sit in. Lil loved her TA and always spoke highly of her, so Owen decided to go with her. He needed to make up the session—his TA had made that much clear—and he’d put this off all week, so it was either now or go to his TA’s Friday section. He wasn’t particularly fond of his TA, and he liked the idea of an extra class on Friday even less. So he pulled on his North Face fleece and waited for Lil’s call.
Lil was nice enough to come pick him up. Jeremy had his jeep—again. And Jeremy had “forgotten” to bring it back—again. Apparently, Jeremy needed to borrow the jeep to get to a “job interview.” Owen knew he needed to take a stronger stance with his brother, but it was hard for him to do that. Jeremy had taken their sister’s and father’s deaths harder than Owen had. Owen had thrown himself into work and caring for
his brother and mother afterward. But Jeremy hadn’t found a way to deal. Owen thought he was doing the right thing by looking out for Jeremy, but maybe he’d done more harm than good for Jeremy by protecting him from the world the way he had.
Lil texted him that she was outside, and he grabbed his backpack and ran out to meet her. Lil was a pretty girl—green eyes, blond hair, preternaturally tan. Even in mid-winter. She had an athletic build and had been playing softball since she was old enough to swing a bat. Well, T-ball first and then softball when she outgrew T-ball. They’d met through an intramural softball league actually. Lil could have played for CVU, but she wanted to focus on her studies. She was a biochem and premed double major. Smart, pretty, nice. But Owen had never been romantically interested in her. He knew that Lil had always had a small crush on him. Before, it’d been harmless because Lil had known Owen was with Kristin and completely devoted to her. Now, though, he wondered how things would change. He realized he hadn’t spent a lot of time around Lil since the breakup. Had he been avoiding her?
He hopped gratefully into Lil’s heated Nissan Xterra. “Thanks for picking me up,” he said.
Lil gave him an uncertain smile before reaching across to give him an awkward car hug. She pulled back quickly and said, “No problem. I haven’t seen a lot of you lately. I was getting worried.”
“I’ve just been busy. With school.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you sure? Because I know how you felt, I mean, you and Kristin.” Lil tucked her hair behind her ear, revealing a tiny diamond stud. “This breakup can’t be easy on you.”
“I’m fine,” Owen said hollowly.
“I’m here if you want to talk about it.”
“Thanks,” Owen said although he had no intention of taking her up on that. “But what I want to talk about right now is what in the world was Ming saying yesterday?” Owen asked. “Did you understand…well any of it?” Professor Ming was their philosophy professor, and her lectures were brain twisting.
Lil grinned, revealing a dimple that had probably sent more than a few hearts racing. He thought she might be dating someone right now, but he wasn’t sure. He couldn’t remember if she’d mentioned them breaking up or not. He hoped she was so that things wouldn’t get weird between them. Lil was a good friend, and he didn’t want to mess that up. “Not a clue,” Lil said. “Hopefully, the mystery will be cleared up tonight. You’ll love Marci. She’s great. So smart and funny.”
“Marci?” Her TA’s name was Marci? Had she mentioned that before, and he just hadn’t picked up on it?
“Yeah.” She glanced sideways at him. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah. Fine.” He stared out of the rain splattered passenger side window. So her name was Marci. There was certainly more than one person in the world named Marci. It was a fairly common name. There was no way their paths were going to cross yet again. Right?
Wrong.
Maybe the universe was trying to tell them something. Trying to beat them over their heads with it and wring their necks until they capitulated. Because when Owen walked into the basement classroom in Grouse Hall where the TA section was to be held, whom should he see but Marci King? Looking radiant and gorgeous even under the harsh fluorescent track lighting. She was laughing and joking with one of her students. She wore tall black boots over black tights that she’d paired with a black skirt and a loose-fitting beige sweater. He’d had every lovely curve under that sweater in his hands just a few nights ago. Saturday. Wow, had it really been not even a week ago? The days seemed to drag on forever lately. Ever since Sunday.
Lil nudged his arm with hers, bringing him back to Earth. “Are you going to ask her?”
Owen looked around, his heart beating wildly in his chest. “Huh?”
Lil gave him a funny look and nodded in Marci’s direction. “Are you going to ask if you can stay for class?”
“Oh.” Owen gave a little laugh of relief. For a moment, he’d thought his feelings had been written all over his face, that he’d been incredibly and tragically obvious. “Oh yeah. Sure.”
Owen walked up to Marci, sure she hadn’t noticed him yet as she was involved in the conversation she was having with one of her students. He cleared his throat and called her name. Marci turned to face him. Shock rippled over her face before she replaced it with a smile. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m in Professor Ming’s philosophy class, and I missed my regular section on Monday.” He watched her beautiful brown face for changes as he spoke, but she betrayed nothing. “I was wondering if I could sit in on your section tonight.”
“Sure,” she said smoothly. “Who’s your regular TA?”
“Brian Smith,” he said.
She nodded and scribbled something down on a piece of paper. “I’ll email him and let him know you came tonight,” she said.
He scratched the back of his neck, a little uncomfortable at the way she’d phrased that. Especially with the way his thoughts had gone South since he walked in the classroom and saw her standing there, looking collected and beautiful as always even on a rainy, cold night like this one. She shook her corkscrew curls away from her face and flashed a smile at him that caught him off-guard. “Ready?”
“Huh?” He unzipped his North Face. It was too hot in this stuffy classroom.
“Class is about to start.” She looked at a point behind him, and he followed her gaze to a clock on the wall at the back of the room.
“Yeah. Sorry.” He stumbled to the table in the center of the classroom and took a seat next to Lil.
“So everything’s okay with you sitting in?” Lil asked.
“Yep. Just fine.” Owen busied himself with pulling books out of his bag and finding a clean sheet of paper in his ratty philosophy notebook.
Lil tapped her fingers on the edge of her laptop. “What were you guys talking about up there for all that time? Do you know each other or something?”
“Something.” Owen looked up and gave Lil his best attempt at a smile.
Her blonde eyebrows knitted together. “Really? How?”
“Uhm, it’s a long story. Too long considering class is about to start. I’ll tell you another time.”
“On the ride back to your place?”
“Or some other time.”
“Over coffee at Java Time? Soon? I feel like I never see you anymore.”
“We’ll talk about it after class,” Owen said.
#
Camille, Dante’s friend from class who wanted to meet Owen, was huge in personality even if slight in frame. When he saw her out in front of the restaurant where they were meeting for dinner Friday night, he knew her immediately even though he’d never seen her before. Based on their brief conversation to set up the date and Dante’s description of her, he knew it must be her right away.
She wore a miniscule black dress despite the freezing temperature and towering black heels that made an impressive advance on Owen’s height of six feet four. Her shiny black hair cascaded over her bare, olive-toned shoulders and arms. Her Italian ancestry was clear in her sharp Mediterranean features. She was a beautiful woman—at least on the outside. Still, something was missing. The same thing that had clouded his vision the night he met Brynn at The Hops was clouding it now.
Camille walked up to him like they were old friends and nearly shouted, “Owen!” and wrapped her arms around him in a hug. He was soon to learn that this was her regular voice. As she would later tell him, growing up in a house with six brothers and one very overly dramatic sister, being loud was the only way to be heard.
“Nice to meet you, Camille,” Owen said as they pulled back from the hug.
“You, too.” She gave him an approving, appraising look and then nodded. “This place is only a three-star, but I guess we have to make do with what we have. We’re not exactly in a buzzing metropolis, now are we?”
Owen thought about how eerily that was like something Kristin would say
. “I guess not,” he said. “We should go in.” One thing Owen didn’t like and could not stand. People who thought they were better than others because they had “good taste” that they had subjectively put above the taste of others and a little money. He’d gone through enough of that with Kristin and her parents. But he only had to get through one date. No one was proposing marriage here.
The three-star restaurant thing was definitely a signpost of how the evening would go. Camille spent most of the night talking about how brilliant she was and looking down her nose at most everything in the restaurant. After she sent her first entrée back and in such a condescending manner, Owen wanted to apologize to the server. After she sent the third one back, he wanted to crawl under the table. That time, he did apologize to the server. When he did, Camille gave him a disapproving look that didn’t faze him.
He guessed maybe her elitist attitude was her way of trying to impress people. He wondered if it worked on other people. It definitely was not working on him. Or maybe she wasn’t worried about impressing him and just assumed he should feel grateful to be in her presence. Was this what Dante thought of him? That he liked shallow, self-absorbed girls? Was this payback for ditching Brynn who’d seemed like a pretty decent human being—at least for the brief time they’d met at The Hops? Or maybe he’d just taught Dante to think of Camille as his type by dating Kristin for so long.
While Camille was sneering at the dessert menu, Owen held up his phone and said, “I should really get going. I just got a text from my brother. He needs me to come over right away.”
“I didn’t hear your phone go off.” Camille frowned up at him.
“I keep it on vibrate.” Owen stared down at his phone screen. At least the vibrate part wasn’t a lie. “It seems pretty urgent.”
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