by Rhonda Helms
I snorted. “I’m just determined to not flunk out of school my last semester. My parents would never let me live it down.”
She and I spent the next half hour going back and forth, quizzing each other on the topic. We both fumbled a few times, but we worked our way through the problems and scrawled out detailed notes as we did.
Not studying alone was pretty nice. I didn’t do this enough—pair up with other people to work together. Wasn’t sure why, actually. I guessed it was because I tended to compartmentalize everything. I usually studied on my own or with someone else if I had to for a class assignment; I chilled with my casual party friends, who hated math and were quite vocal about it; I visited my family on the weekends for dinner. Everything had its separate space.
But this semester, it seemed like all my spaces were bleeding together, mixing with each other. Kelly and I were study buddies, plus we’d hung out socially again since The Night at the club. Through my network, she was even starting to make a couple of friends on campus.
My parents’ dorm room renovation project on campus was now under way, those students relocated to special off-campus housing, and we’d had lunch a couple of times. I found myself avoiding the area they were working in unless I purposefully intended to see them. I told myself it was so they could focus on work, but I knew it was more than that. I was uncomfortable with the thought of them here. In my world, where they’d never been before.
Not to mention I struggled with how to deal with Nick too. He was my professor, but I had very un-studentlike feelings about him, reinforced more and more with each class. He and I hadn’t been alone since our talk in his office, nor had we emailed. We were just kind of circling each other, not making much eye contact or initiating a lot of interaction.
Part of me was glad. The other part was disappointed. When I was alone in bed at night, staring at the ceiling, I let myself miss what could have been, had circumstances been different.
Oh well. I shoved those thoughts out of my head and made myself focus on the here and now.
“So,” I asked Kelly, “have you seen that one guy from The Mask again? The hottie you danced with?” I hadn’t asked her about him yet because I still felt a little awkward over what had happened that night with Nick. But since that issue seemed resolved, insofar as it could be, I guess, I wanted to know.
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, I didn’t tell ya? Total dud. We went back to his car and kissed some, and then he kept trying to push for sex in the backseat. When I said no, that pretty much cooled that down. I left shortly after and I haven’t heard from him since. I’d given him my number earlier that night, since he’d said he wanted to see me.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. I gave her a sympathetic smile and shook my head. “That wasn’t cool of him.” What a douche. Gotta love the guy who was only out for tail.
“I mean, I admit—there are times I’ve had sex on a first date. But . . . I dunno. For some reason, I thought he was into me for more than just that. I thought the situation was different.” She shrugged, then looked up at my face with a touch of vulnerability in her eyes.
I hoped she didn’t think I was gonna slut-shame her or anything. Hell, I had no problem with people doing what felt good for them. I sure tried to. Life was too short to walk around with a stick up my ass, worrying what people did in their bedrooms. And I didn’t want them worrying about what I did in mine.
“Well, good for you for sticking to your guns and doing what felt right. And for not letting yourself feel pressured. No one wants to feel used, and if you’re not into it, you shouldn’t do it just to make him happy.”
Her responding smile was heartfelt, even if a little shy. “Thanks. I’m so glad we started talking.”
“Me too.”
“Hey, guys—mind if I join you?” Dallas stood at the end of the table, a nervous smile on his face. “I saw you together and figured you might be studying for cryptography.”
“You figured right,” Kelly said. She shot me a quick glance, one brow raised.
“Um, sure, have a seat.” I waved at the table to invite him to sit with us.
Dallas took the seat beside me. His thigh brushed mine and he paused, then shifted his leg slightly away. I saw a dark red stain crawl along the back of his neck.
Wow, this guy wore his feelings all over his face. There was no mistaking anything he felt or thought. It made me wonder if he’d ever had a real girlfriend, had ever gone on a date. His nervousness put me a little on edge, wondering what was going to happen. Somehow I had a gut feeling he’d ask me out, probably soon.
If he did, should I say yes?
Dallas opened his book and notebook, then grabbed a pen from his backpack. He nibbled on the end as he flipped with his free hand to the page we were on. He was cute, even if painfully shy. There was something endearing about him. No, he didn’t set me on fire or anything, but that was okay.
Probably better that way, actually. I felt less out of control. With him, I knew what to expect. I knew it could be casual and fun and no pressure—well, I hoped anyway. After all, he seemed to like me, but it wasn’t like it was love or anything.
We spent a little more time going back over our notes and quizzing Dallas on the chapter. He was a smart guy, and my respect for him went up a notch.
“So, Dallas, tell us all about you,” Kelly said with a wide grin.
I kicked her under the table. To her credit, she didn’t flinch, though she shot me a sidelong glance, keeping her gaze on Dallas.
“What do you want to know?”
“What do you do for fun? Let’s start with that.”
He slanted a peek at me, so quick I almost missed it. Swallowed. “Well, I like to ride my bike when it’s nice out. I also collect old coins.”
“What kind of motorcycle do you have?” I asked with a polite smile.
“Oh, it’s not that kind of bike. I meant a bicycle.”
Kelly smothered a laugh. My polite smile stretched at the edges, and I gave an inane nod to cover up my real feelings. Oh God, he sounded like my grandpa, who was an avid stamp collector. How dull.
He chuckled. “Yes, I’m aware this sounds totally nerdy. But the coin thing I started doing with my dad before he died, and I just kept it up because it was his passion.”
My heart lurched at that, and I felt guilty for being so judgmental. What was with me lately? Apparently, hanging around the snarky guys I usually dated had rubbed off on me. I was ashamed of myself for being so dismissive.
“That’s sweet,” I offered in a sincere tone. “I’m sure he enjoyed spending that time with you.”
Silence thickened at the table. Dallas cleared his throat, looked at Kelly, then looked at me again.
Kelly stood and glanced at her watch in an obvious move of leaving us alone. “Crap. I gotta run. You two finish up without me. I’ll see you on Monday!” She gave me a quick, knowing look that said tell me everything that happens, and then she gathered her stuff and took off.
Another minute passed in awkward quiet. Okay, then.
“Well. I guess I should get rolling too,” I told him, and began to put my stuff away.
“Hey, wait. Um.” He cleared his throat. “Are you busy tomorrow night? Do you want to get together?”
I paused. My first reaction was to say no. But with that reaction warred a surge of guilt—my hesitation at accepting was due to it being Dallas asking me, not Nick. Not to mention the guilt I already had for judging him about collecting coins.
I owed him a fair chance. I’d given chances to far less worthwhile guys than him in the past. Who knew—he might turn out to surprise me. And I needed to stop thinking about Nick anyway. Dating other guys was the best way to do so.
“Sure, that sounds fun,” I said lightly.
The smile on his face was so bright it almost made me feel bad I wasn’t more enthusiastic about the date. “Perfect. Dinner? Six-thirty?” He named an Italian restaurant a few blocks from campus.
“Sounds great.
I’ll meet you there.”
He leaned toward me. I could see the pulse fluttering at the base of his neck. “Looking forward to it.” His eyes dropped to my lips, and I had a moment of real conflict about what to do if he tried to kiss me. Then he moved back, gathered his stuff and left.
I stared blankly at my book for several minutes, willing myself to feel more excited about tomorrow night. A glance at the calendar portion of my cryptography syllabus made me realize tomorrow was the day before Valentine’s Day. Ugh. I hadn’t had a boyfriend or significant other on that day in a couple of years.
Maybe after the date, I could run to the store and stock up on pampering supplies—chocolate, ice cream, pretty flowers—and just hole up in the apartment for the weekend. I was off work on Saturday. I knew Casey would be busy doing romantic stuff with Daniel. Oh, wait, maybe Kelly would want to hang out. I was really enjoying spending time with her, and it was nice having a single friend too.
I typed in a text to her, Dallas asked me on a date for tmrw. Will let you know how it goes. Also, you busy Saturday? It’s V-Day. Up for a foxy date with me? ;-)
With a grin, I tucked my phone away, gathered my stuff and headed to my next class.
I headed to Bertheimer Dorms, where my parents’ project was currently under way, slogging through snow as I cut across the courtyard. The snow was damp and mud tinged; I was glad I’d worn sensible boots to school today.
The air picked up and made the bare tree branches rattle and clack. I shivered in my coat. February was just as cold as January. I was so looking forward to spring, and to regular sunshine.
I shoved my hands in my coat pockets and made it to the sidewalk, stomping the snow off my boots. There was a small trailer set up on the side of the dorm, where my parents were running their operations. Contractors moved in and out between the dorm and the trailer, wearing hard hats.
I knocked on the door and heard my mom call, “Come in!”
“Hey!” I said. “Just wanted to drop by and say hi.” Last night I’d lain in bed feeling guilty about avoiding them so much, so I’d decided to come by today and visit a bit. “Where’s Dad?” I looked around the small trailer, which held a large table covered with blueprint drawings, a table bearing coffeepots and snacks, and a few scattered folding chairs.
“He had to run a few errands, but he’ll be back later. How are you? Come in!” Mom tugged a chair up beside the one she’d been sitting in, in front of the blueprints. “Hungry? Want some coffee?”
I took a seat. “Coffee would be amazing, thanks.”
She poured me some into a paper cup, dumped in several sugar packets—did the woman know me or what?—then handed it to me. “Been a busy one,” she declared as she dropped into her seat and sipped her own coffee from a black mug.
“What are you guys doing right now? Isn’t it hard working in the snow?”
“We’re working on some interior issues at the moment. Moisture leaking through walls and so on.”
I nodded. I remembered a few of my resident friends complaining about water dripping on their beds. “I’m glad you guys are fixing it up.”
“Me too. Both for them and for us.” She winked and tucked an errant strand of hair back in her twisted bun. I was relieved to see she looked and sounded much better than she had the last time I’d seen her.
“You seem like you’re feeling okay,” I ventured. “Your back doing good?”
“Definitely,” she said with a relieved sigh as she pressed her hand to her lower spine. “I don’t know how I tweaked it, but I’m not having any pain today. I’ll take it.”
“You’re still going to call your doctor, right?” I pressed.
She gave me that Mom look. “If the pain comes back, I will. I already told you I would.” In other words, don’t nag her.
“I just worry,” I said in a softer tone. “I want you to feel good.” Mom didn’t like to be pushed. She and I had butted heads more than once when I was growing up. We were both pretty stubborn.
This wasn’t something I was going to back down on though. I’d read online about how sometimes old injury pains came back, which could be devastating for those who’d thought that period was over.
Her face lost its tension, and she sighed, cupped my hand. “I know. That time wasn’t just hard on me. It was hard on you and your father too. But I really think this was a one-off. Not an indicator of the pain returning.”
Nothing in her body language indicated any aches or tenderness in her back, so I had to take her at her word.
I nodded.
“Hey, will you watch the trailer for a few minutes? I’m going to run to the restroom.”
“Sure.”
Mom took another chug of her coffee, then darted out of the trailer. I eyed the blueprints, her familiar block script with notes written around the edges, lines pointing to areas on the walls that had leaks or damage. I couldn’t help but smile. How many hours had she and I spent poring over blueprints, discussing building structure integrity?
Engineering wasn’t necessarily my thing, but I respected her passion for it. It had fed into my own passion for math.
As I shifted in my chair, I kicked my foot under the table and connected with her purse. The rattle of something falling on the floor drew my attention. I ducked my head down to see what I’d knocked out of her bag. It was a bottle of pills.
I picked them up and saw her name wasn’t on them. It was another woman’s, a person I didn’t know.
My heart gave a strange thud. Why would she have someone else’s prescription? What was this medication? I read the label a few times.
Inside her purse were two other bottles, half empty. These had her name on them.
The trailer door opened, and I dropped the bottle I held into the purse, then sat up with a smile plastered on my face.
Mom came in with a relieved sigh. “Thank you! Okay, what we were talking about?”
I could barely get the words out. “You were telling me your back was feeling better.”
“Yeah, it is.” She even stretched and turned to show me.
Was there a way to ask her what was up with the bottles of pills without pissing her off? I struggled with it for a moment.
“Oh, but I did get a minor ear infection,” she added, her face blanching. “I have some antibiotics for that.”
Ah. What was wrong with me? Was I really suspecting my mom had a pill problem? She’d had back pain and an ear infection. Maybe she’d borrowed pills from a friend when she’d complained about not feeling well from the earache and she was going to return the rest of them. Guilt swam through me.
I offered a shaky smile. “Well, I’m glad you’re doing okay. I’ll head out now—gotta figure out what I’m making for dinner tonight, so I’m going to stop at the store.”
“Good thinking. Maybe you can come over this weekend? Your aunt Kaye’s bringing the baby.” Dad’s youngest sister had just had a baby a few months ago.
“I’ll try.” I kissed her cheek and stood to go. Suddenly I needed to get out of there. Get away from this shame eating away at my chest. I couldn’t believe what a path my mind had gone down. About my own mother too. The woman who had raised me to be strong and self-sufficient.
I left the trailer and walked down the sidewalk in a much more somber mood than before. The problem was, as much as I was beating myself up for having those thoughts . . . there was still a teeny, tiny chance it could be true. And I had no idea what to think about that.
Chapter 9
I smoothed the soft, buttery fabric of my skirt over my thighs and struggled to maintain an even smile over the candlelight glow on our table. It didn’t help that I felt crazy awkward right now.
I should have realized that tonight’s dinner date with Dallas wouldn’t be the easiest ever. After all, he had never quite seemed comfortable around me. But what had seemed cute and endearing at first was now starting to frustrate me.
Dallas sipped his beer and gave a stiff smile. We hadn’t be
en served appetizers yet, but he was already on his second drink. Not to mention he’d barely said ten words to me the whole evening.
I cleared my throat and scrambled for something to talk about. Anything. Other than class, that was. “Um. So how was your week?” Well done, Megan, I thought as I mentally rolled my eyes at myself. Scintillating conversation, indeed.
“Oh, it was fine.” He swallowed the rest of his beer, and I noticed his cheeks were flushed and his eyes a bit larger. Obviously the alcohol was kicking in. I could see the tension in his shoulders relaxing. “Just studying and stuff. You?”
My heart pinched. Why did he have to drink so much to be able to talk and relax around me? I wasn’t intimidating or anything, was I? I shrugged my shoulders. “I worked earlier today.”
“You have a job at that sandwich place, right?” His eyes roamed around as he looked for our waiter. Probably to order another beer. Fabulous.
A dull heat flooded my face. “He’ll be here soon,” I said flatly.
“What?” His gaze ripped back to me.
“Our waiter. He’ll bring you another drink.”
He must have read the look on my face, because he turned red to the tips of his ears. “Oh. No, I’m fine. I don’t normally drink like this, sorry. I’m just really nervous.”
“Why?” I asked him bluntly. “I said yes. What’s there to be nervous about?”
“Because . . .” He waved a hand at me. “You’re beautiful. I didn’t think you’d even agree to a date. And I don’t want to screw it up.”
My heart softened a touch at that. Okay, that was kinda sweet.
The waiter appeared then, bearing a plate of bruschetta. “Here you go. May I get you anything else?” He saw the empty beer and picked up the bottle. “Another for you?”
Dallas shook his head woodenly. “No, just water please.”
Great. I fought against the urge to grab my phone and text someone to get me out of this. The night was going downhill, fast—Mayday, Mayday! I smothered a laugh.
Luckily, food was a good distraction, and the bruschetta was delicious. I savored the tangy bites and sipped my water.