by Lucy Smoke
As I headed towards a corner mat, Kelsey latched onto my arm. "How are we supposed to know what stretches to do?" she hissed, glancing around. I looked in the same direction and while some of the students were obviously a little confused, Mrs. Dennis directed them gently towards sections and spoke in low tones.
"Do you want to stretch with me?" I offered. Kelsey nodded vehemently. "I haven't been in gymnastics in years," I admitted apprehensively as we made our way over to a separate mat.
"You were in gymnastics?" Kelsey stopped next to me as I spread my feet apart and bent over, reaching for my toes with both hands. I leaned towards my right foot and then my left and then the middle. She copied my movements. "Then why are you in the beginner's class?"
I shrugged as I stood up straight once more and took my elbow in my opposite hand and stretched my arm over my head before doing the same to the other arm. "I didn't really get to choose my classes, but I guess it's just that I've been out of it for a while."
"How long is a while?" Kelsey asked.
"Um..." I tried counting back the years. "It was right before I started high school, I think."
“Are you going to start doing it again?” she pressed, curiosity in her tone.
Shaking my head, I grunted as I stretched a muscle I knew I hadn’t stretched in a long while. “Not really.”
“Not into it anymore?”
I had to think about it. I left gymnastics because I had to, not because I wanted to. Did I want to be back here? I was sure if I told the guys I wanted to, they’d let me. Texas had all but asked me if I wanted to stay and finish school. Was that what I wanted?
“Harlow?” Kelsey called.
I blinked and looked her way. “I don’t think so,” I finally said. “This is a good reminder, but gymnastics is behind me.” But was college in my future?
I glanced around the room, and noticed that several students were on their backs, stretching their feet in the air as Mrs. Dennis coached them through the stretches. I winced, wondering if I could do that again. Before I could even contemplate trying to copy their movements, however, Mrs. Dennis stood up from her position and headed our way.
“How are we doing over here, ladies?”
“Oh, just fine!” Kelsey piped up as she strained to reach her toes.
Mrs. Dennis looked to me. “Um, fine,” I squeaked. She raised a brow as I cleared my throat. “Yeah, we’re just stretching.” Although she looked skeptical, she didn’t push and instead, nodded before heading to the next group of girls. I released a breath I hadn’t even known I was holding.
“So,” I said, moving into a new position.
Kelsey watched me and then copied my movements. “So?”
“You’re a sophomore, right?” I asked. “Do you stay on campus in the summer?”
She laughed, shaking her head. “Oh, no way. It’s dead in the summertime. There’s hardly anyone here. Besides, I have to work at my parents’ bar in the summer.”
I blinked, surprised. “Don’t you have to be twenty-one to work in a bar?”
She shook her head, eyes watching me as I leaned up on my side and moved my arm over my head. “You only have to be eighteen to bar-back or serve,” she said. “I just restock beers and stuff and fill out drink orders.”
“Oh, that’s cool.”
“Yeah, I’m a business major because I’m hoping one day to go into business with my dad—you know, help him run the bar and maybe open up another one.”
“That’s cool that you already know what you want to do,” I said as I strained my muscles, keeping my back straight.
“So, what about you?” Kelsey’s face grew red as she did the same. “What do you want to do when you get out of college?”
"Oh, um, me?" My arms began to shake. "I don't really know." I wasn’t even sure if I would finish. Finally, Kelsey collapsed on her side as I slowly lowered myself back to the ground, turning my head to see if the instructor was watching. She wasn't. I turned back to Kelsey.
What the hell did I want to do?
It was a question the guys had asked me before. What did I want to do for the rest of my life? I looked around at the class—comprised of mostly girls—and wondered if they all had plans. I didn't, not really. I mean, I wasn't just passing time with the guys. They were important to me. What they did—what we did—was important to me. But I had never before really had a plan laid out for me. I didn't know what I liked anymore. For the longest time, I had been so focused on putting food on the table, on paying bills, and seeing my mom get better. I was used to the survival of day to day life. Now... now I had a whole life to think about. I needed to actually think about it. Make plans. Find out where I wanted to go. Maybe the college atmosphere—meeting people who had their lives planned out already—was what was pushing me to start thinking about it, and maybe it was a good thing.
"Hey, you know you don't have to decide right this second, right?" Kelsey's voice drove me out of my inner musings and I looked up, realizing how tight my arms were. I hadn’t been paying attention. I lowered down and rested. Though she probably should have been irritated, Kelsey smiled kindly instead of pointing out my absent-mindedness. "Lots of people don't know what they want to do in life," she said. "That's what college is about. You've got four years to figure it out."
Before I could reply, the instructor clapped her hands, gaining all of our attention and announcing that her assistant had arrived to show us some basic moves. My mind roamed as we were all instructed to move together and watch as the young, slender woman with her dark hair pulled back into a severe ponytail moved forward and began to perform some of the easier gymnastics maneuvers—the handstand, the bridge, the cartwheel. All things I had learned early on. So, as the others oohed and awwed over them, I kept thinking about what I wanted. By the time class ended, I still wasn't sure of the answer, and that bothered me.
"What are you doing for lunch?" Kelsey asked as we exited the gymnasium.
"I'm—"
"Hey, Kels!" Lizzie bounded up to greet us, all wide smiles and exuberance.
"Hey," Kelsey said.
"Wow, good class?" I asked.
Lizzie nodded. "Yeah, I thought nutrition was gonna be a bore, but the teacher is actually pretty cool. She's already canceled a class later on in the semester because she has a conference to attend!" Lizzie did a fist pump in the air. "Score!"
"Should you really be happy about that?" I asked, curiously.
Lizzie shrugged. "Why not? I know I'm like 'losing out on the money paid for the class and blah blah blah' but I'm probably gonna need a break by the time we hit the mid-semester slump."
"Mid-semester slump?" I blinked at her, my voice low with confusion.
"Don't worry about it." Lizzie weaved her arm through mine and then turned back to Kelsey. "You joining us for lunch?"
"If you don't mind," Kelsey said hesitantly.
I smiled, hoping to let her know that she was more than welcome and nodded my head even as Lizzie weaved her other arm through Kelsey's. "Not at all!" Lizzie laughed. "Let's go!"
As we walked towards the cafeteria together, I watched the girls interact. They made me miss Erika. Perhaps, not who Erika had become—distant and more than a little secretive if this mission was anything to go by—but the best friend she had been. She was the whole reason I was here in the first place. I wasn’t actually here to attend college and figure out my life—though the latter would have to happen eventually. That wasn’t my goal. I just needed to keep my head in the right place and not be deterred.
Lunch was over rather quickly, and I only barely managed to dodge more questions about the guys from Lizzie while Kelsey raised her brow at me every so often.
My last class of the day was Fiction Writing in which the professor handed out a list of appropriate novels to pick up, informing us that we would have to email him with our selection by the end of the week because there would be a book report due at the end of the semester. Although it was an interesting subject, I foun
d the professor—a man in his mid-thirties with a terribly obvious comb over, and a dress shirt that was way too tight for his build—to be a bit autocratic and imperious. But he was the professor after all, so what did I know?
I got back to the dorm room, thankfully, well before Lizzie. Slipping off my backpack and storing away my school supplies, I checked my phone for any missed messages. Though there were no text messages, there was one voicemail from Knix waiting. He had called earlier in the morning just after my gymnastics class had started. I pressed play and put the phone to my ear.
"Just wanted to check in on you, Little Bit." His voice rumbled in my ear, deep and soothing. I didn't realize how much I had missed him until then. "Wanted to let you know that Bellamy and I are heading up to Lander now. We received some new information from Alex. I can't talk about it over the phone. But I expect that you'll be busy with your assignment from Bellamy. Meet at the duplex at 6 pm tonight. That's when we should be there." My breath caught. I wondered what they could have found. Just when I thought the voicemail was over, there was the brief sound of the phone being jostled as it was passed over. Bellamy's voice came through. "Hey Sweetheart, don't worry about Cleo. We checked on her before we left. Be safe on your assignment. See you tonight."
A monotone voice announced the end of the message and repeated options for me to either delete, save, or re-listen. I re-listened to the voicemail two more times just to hear the sound of their voices before I finally saved it and put it back in my pocket. I was relieved that they would be coming to the university sooner than planned and that I'd be able to see them, but I had a job to do.
Chapter 7
So, Harlow, what did you want to see me for?"
Sitting in Professor Brownson's office felt like taking a step into an antique shop. The kind where nothing was ever labeled. The rusted shell-spoon underneath a basket of doilies could be from the 1920s or the 1990s depending on what you or the bored sales lady knew. The table in the corner, piled high with what looked to be stacks and stacks of white and yellowed bits of paper and books that were both dusty and new, looked to be from somewhere in this last decade at least. While the desk, on the other hand, might have once belonged to the original owner of this office.
I blinked and refocused my attention on the mousy-haired woman with wire-rimmed glasses perched on the end of her bird-like nose. "I—um..." Bellamy had asked me to go to both the admissions office and to Erika's advisor and see if they knew anything about her disappearance. Well, not her disappearance per se, but whether or not she had mentioned Josh at all, and if they knew whether or not she planned to leave before the Fall semester. My trip to the admissions office had already been a bust. They hadn't even let me past the front counter to see any of the admissions counselors. I would have to play this carefully to avoid any further mishaps.
I straightened my spine and flashed Professor Brownson a smile that I hoped covered my nervousness. "Well, um, Professor, I came to Lander because my best friend came here." Truth. "And I wanted to follow in her footsteps." Another truth; I was technically trying to follow in her footsteps—specifically the ones that would lead me to find her. "Right now, I'm undecided on a major, just taking the electives and common core classes required of a four-year degree. But I know you were her advisor. I was wondering if you could give me some information on her major—Business Management, right?"
Professor Brownson leaned forward, narrowing her dark eyes at me. "Young lady, I'm sure you think following a friend is a good choice, but I can assure you that, like romantic relationships, friendships can fall apart too. If you're looking into Business Management simply because your friend—Erika, you said—was heading in that direction before she decided to take a break, then I suggest you take more time to think about it. You only get one chance at being young. You should spend it doing something you want to do, and not something you think you should do."
My mind reeled. Less than five minutes in and I had already uncovered something big. "I'm sorry," I said. "Did you say Erika is taking a break?"
Professor Brownson frowned. "Yes, she informed me and the university that she would be taking a short-term break before returning to finish her degree. I can't elaborate on why—I keep my students' private lives confidential. If you're her friend, though, you should be able to contact her."
I opened my mouth before noticing the suspicious glint in Professor Brownson's eyes. Smiling, I quickly took a breath and stood up. "You're right," I said. "I'll call her and see if she needs any help. We haven't talked much since I moved into the dorm. Starting college is a real culture shock." I shrugged and then politely excused myself from her office, nearly running head first into another student as they approached the door.
The young man in cargo shorts and a light blue t-shirt skirted past me into Professor Brownson's office with a messenger bag slung over one shoulder and a stack of papers in his arms. I barely spared him a glance as I made my way to the stairwell and headed down to the first floor.
Once I was sure I was out of hearing distance of the office, I took my phone out and dialed Bellamy. It went straight to voicemail. I frowned and dialed Knix's phone number, receiving the same. What the hell? This time I dialed Marv, hoping that at least he would pick up. Unfortunately, he too went to voicemail. What was going on?! Then my phone buzzed in my hand.
Marv: In class, what's wrong? Do I need to come to you?
I sighed in relief and typed out a quick reply. At least he had responded in some way.
Harlow: Just got out of Erika's advisor's office. Got info. Tried calling Bellamy and Knix, didn't get an answer.
I continued outside and down the steps of the building, turning back towards the dorms as I waited for his reply. It wasn't until I got to the front steps of Chipley Hall that he finally responded.
Marv: Just got out. Heading to your dorm. Meet you out front.
I sighed, looking around and spotting several white rocking chairs spread across the front of the dorm patio. I moved towards them, planning to wait there, in the shade, until he got here. I didn’t wait long.
“Harlow!” Marv called out as he jogged across the lawn. My eyes rose and caught on his form. Dryness assailed my throat. Holy…mother…of…Jesus. Dressed in a soft v-neck with a strap of leather around his neck dangling into the crevice of his collar, Marv looked every bit the laid-back college student rather than his usual professional suit and tie ensemble. I bit my lip and stood up on wobbly knees as he approached. He slowed to a walking gait as he rounded a brick pillar into the patio area. “Hey,” he greeted me.
“Hey.” My eyes traveled downward without even meaning to. Dark blue jeans hugged his legs. They looked perfectly tailored to him. Perhaps they were.
Marv collapsed in one of the rocking patio chairs at my side and I blinked before quickly retaking my seat, so I didn’t look like an utter dweeb just standing there staring at him. “So, how’d it go with the advisor?” he asked.
My eyes drifted down to where his shirt pulled tight across his shoulders, outlining the breadth of his frame. “The advisor?”
“Yeah, the advisor—Harlow, are you okay?”
I blinked, flushing hot when I realized what I had been doing. My gaze shot to his to see if he had noticed, but Marv just sat there with both of his brows drawn low as he watched me, confused. “Right, the advisor. She, uh, I mean, what I mean to say is that she—Professor Brownson—” I stumbled over my words and had to stop myself and draw a deep breath. “I didn’t get anywhere with the admissions office,” I finally admitted. “They wouldn’t even let me past the front office area to see anyone. But Professor Brownson let it slip that Erika informed her that she’d be leaving campus for a bit.”
Marv sat up straighter. “She knew, then.” His eyes scanned the front lawn before he stood and reached for my elbow. “Is your roommate in right now?”
Shocked at his abruptness, I shook my head. “No, why?”
“Because we probably shouldn’t talk out here
.”
I nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.” Marv released me as I let us into the dorm. Thankfully, we didn’t run into anyone else as I checked Marv in and went up to my new dorm room. Once inside, he looked around, grimacing—probably at how small and cramped it was. I dropped my bag on my bed and sat at the desk.
“So, what now?” I asked. “Should we call the others?”
Marv shook his head. “If Bell and Knix weren’t answering, they’re probably on the road.”
“But both of them not answering?”
Marv looked at me, storm-gray eyes serious. “Don’t worry, Harlow. We’ll tell them when they get here.”
I sighed. “You tell me not to worry, but I can’t help it. If Erika knew she was leaving, then does that mean that she’s with Josh?”
Marv grimaced and grabbed the back of Lizzie’s desk chair. Turning it to face me, he sat and reached for my hands. “Listen, it’s entirely possible. But we don’t know the whole story yet.”
“If she’s been with him this whole time,” I snapped, “I’m going to be really mad.” I stood, pulling away from his hands and paced across the room before coming back and repeating the cycle. “We’ve been best friends for years,” I explained. “It doesn’t make any sense. Why wouldn’t she tell me what’s going on? Does she not trust me? How can she keep something like this from me? What if she’s in danger?”
Marv stood and stepped into my pacing path, causing me to come to an abrupt halt or risk running into his chest. His hands moved to my shoulders and I looked up. “Relax, Sunshine. It’s all gonna work out.”
“That’s easy for you to say.”
He frowned and shook his head. “No, it’s not.” Marv tugged me to the bed and sat down, pulling me down beside him. “What’s wrong? You’re not acting like yourself.”
“I’m just worried about her,” I admitted. “If she left campus willingly, do we really need to be here?”